#brett dalton x reader

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words counts: 3000

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[jackiequick]

In fifty years, will all this be declassified? | Agents Of SHIELD Fanfic

Pairing: Amelia M. Parker & Grant Ward (WardParker)

Summary: In other words, suffering is worse than falling down low..

Characters feature/mentioned: Kara Palamas, Melissa Wallace, Marlene Kassdy, The Young Avengers

Timeline: Set a year after Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Agents Of Shield Season 2 (2014-2015)

Warning: Mentions of torture, blood, needles, heartbreak and fighting

Fic Type: Angst

——

A/N: Goodness, someone help them all. Also sorry if it's a long fic! I hope you enjoy it ;) And yes I reference a Taylor Swift song as the title hehe

Inspired by: Agents Of Shield 2x21/22

—

Dry pastel lit color faded between the clouds, as the soft yet grime shades filled the room. 

The air thick with dust and the distant sound of wind howling against the cracked windows. A mild, yet faint screeching pierced the silence, mingling with the rhythmic dripping of water somewhere in the shadows.

The autumn chill that sinked though the cracks of the door made its way towards her body, responding her eyes to slowly flutter open. She squinted her eyes turning her around to see the area she was set in.

Confusion wrapped around her like a mask; the last thing she remembered was sifting through the scattered remnants of an old agent’s life in a deserted apartment, searching for files that could’ve been used for other purposes.

It was darkly and dimly lit when she made herself present in that apartment reaching for the last lines of the forgotten report, hearing a soft thud, a shadow looming behind her—then nothing.

Amelia blinked, forcing her mind to piece together the fragments, but all she grasp was the nagging dull pain against her neck. Her fingers twitching waking themselves up only to hit a wooden board. She glanced down to noticed her wrists were against a table, yet her ankles were tied backwards to the chair.

She tugged against the restraints, but they held firm, the rough fibers biting into her skin. Panic clawed at her throat as she took in her surroundings: the rusted beams overhead, the scattered debris underfoot, and the faint light filtering through the grime-coated windows.

With every strained breath, the cold air seeped deeper into her bones, heightening her senses. The screeching outside grew louder, mingling with the pounding of her heart.

Just then, a door creaked open somewhere in the warehouse, and her breath caught in her throat. Amelia huffed and winced catching sight of who it was.

Grant Ward.

Following behind him was Agent 33, Kara Palamas, an a former SHIELD agent. Her was brain given some deep suffering, due to memory loss from Daniel Whitehall and of course she was helped afterward, tested by Fitzsimmons, then she left again. More or less…

Grant smiled sitting across the table from her. One of fingers lightly pushes a strand of hair away from Amelia’s face to see her clearly. Grant will never admit it but he didn’t like having her kidnapped, but he needed SHIELD to reveal any information that had on the Projects and Daniel Whitehall.

Amelia was one of SHIELD most well known and possibly active agents they had. According to the rumor mill she was loved and appreciated, having help put The Young Avengers together, being his co-captain in the very beginning of Coulson’s team back in 2013 and the list went on.

But he knew that Amelia Parker only scratched the surface, of the people she was surrounded by. He knew that none of the recruits and so-called friends truly cared for her, watched her six. If they did care, they would’ve found her by now. Hell, Agent Hill was the one who pushed her senseless into being the agent she was today. 

The poor workaholic agent who was pushed to the brink of it all, making the choices to see the good in others and step in to put herself in danger for the sake of the people around her. 

For the sake of the mission. 

Pushing down all the hurt and blame for her own sake. Taking the hits, making the kills and watching the ones she cared for suffer. 

All Grant wanted to do was keep her safe, have her join him in the mist of SHIELD’s fall back in 2014 and live on the run. But she refused to stay with him.

Because her loyalty was too high and her trust in others were on the balancing act of being destroy right before her eyes.

And yet, here she sat in front of him, her own green eyes staring right into his brown ones.  

“Hi baby.” He said in a calm low tone. 

She held a tight calm smile as she responded, “Hi.

“I’mma cut to the chase. You do know why you’re here, right?”

“Cause you miss me, hon?”

Kara, who was standing a few steps behind Grant, crossed her arms and held back a scoff at her remark. She knew the two had history, which annoyed her completely.

“Miss you? That’s a bold assumption,” Kara shot back, forcing the humor even as her pulse raced slightly.

Grant leaned forward, the smile fading as he studied her. “You’re in a warehouse, tied to a chair. I don’t want to play games, Ames.”

Kara shifted, her posture rigid as she eyed Amelia. “You don’t have to protect her anymore, Grant. She’s not one of us…”

“Not one of us?” Amelia echoed, the bite in her voice sharper than she intended. “You think that just because you’re playing for a different side now, it makes you less of a traitor?”

Kara bristled, but Grant raised a hand, silencing the tension in the room.  “This isn’t about sides,” he said, his tone even but strained. “It’s about information. SHIELD’s been sitting on something big, and I need you to help me find it.”

Amelia’s mind raced at the thought. The thought of betraying her former team sent a chill through her. “And what if I refuse? What makes you think I will help you?”

He leaned closer, intensity radiating from him. “Then you’ll stay here. And trust me, we both know I always find another way to get what I need. But it won’t be pretty for you.”

“Is that a threat, baby?”

“Call it a promise. I said don’t ever want to hurt you, Ames, not again, but if it comes to it, I will.”

Amelia’s eyes fell of Kara and exhaled, “And her?”

Grant noticed her gaze and leaned backwards. His expression turned serious as he said, “Kara, is none of your concern.”

“Liar. What is it that I did that so wrong to her?”

Kara shifted and met her gaze, leaning forward with a slight glare. “You know what you did, you're responsible for my kidnapping, you and Wallace had my location rigid and led me to Whitehall. When I did escape, Marlene and the others were late to get me back to base. I was tortured and enslaved for what felt like ages!”

Amelia’s eyes darted as she shifted, trying to stand up from her chair. She snarled, “The location was rigid to begin with! It wasn’t mine or Melissa’s fault. It was none of our faults!”

“Then apologize!”

“For a miscommunication? I did weeks ago!”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“..why have it be just me? Not strap Melissa or anyone else to a chair?”

That’s when Kara allowed a small smirk to appear on her face.

“Because. Melissa will just give me a snarky remark and scream, she’s not trained for the physical and mental discomfort across the body. But you are.” Kara explained to Amelia.

Amelia’s eyes darted back to Ward with a warning tone. “Grant.” She muttered. 

Grant stood from his seat and grabbed a device from the wall as he contained the explanation to a minimum, “We’re using you as an advantage here, Ames. If we want SHIELD to give us what they want as well and see a piece of them crumble, why not have one of their finest agents be the representation of it all?”

“Which means?” Amelia asked.

“We will keep you here.” Kara said, “In result, disorient the other agents such as Melissa, Marlene and your precious boyfriend, who I bet has no idea that your gone, into running around in rampage looking for you. The more pain you inflect, will give the others no choice but to give us the information needed.”

Amelia’s heart raced with a mix of fear and defiance as the words hung in the air. 

She scoffed as a small smile broke across her face. A shake chuckle escaped her hips for whatever reason. “You’re both just petty and delusional.” Amelia remarked. “Even if it I am not found by them, and I’m tortured. You realize that The Young Avengers will get concerned and try to find me, right?”

Grant crossed his arms and shook her head, as he strapped a wires and tightened the chair a bit more. Beforehand, he used anesthetic to remove any sensation of pain from Morse-Parker, however the sensation of the shockwaves and needles will be an unbearable pain, hitting her body all at once. 

Kara claimed to many beforehand, that was the pain she felt when she was harmed by Whitehall and when she regained control of her mind once again. 

When no one answered her remarked about The Young Avengers—Liane, Rick, Rochelle, Cole and the others—would grow panicked and try to find her, it was a clear as day response. They were too busy and selfish to care for others’s turmoil to save them. Kara and Grant convey that answer by just exchanging a glance at Amelia.

 Amelia's heart raced, a mixture of defiance and dread coursing through her veins. “You really think that will work? You’re underestimating them.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, masking the worry gnawing at her.

Grant tightened the straps, his brow furrowed with frustration. “It’s not about underestimating them. It’s about making them desperate.”

Kara’s smirk faded as she stepped closer. “You think they care enough to risk everything for you? They’ve got their own battles to fight. You’re just a pawn in this game, Amelia.”

The weight of her words hit harder than any blow. Memories of laughter and camaraderie flashed through Amelia’s mind, but the shadows of doubt loomed larger. She shook her head, unwilling to let them see her falter. “You’re wrong. They won’t stop searching for me.”

Grant leaned back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “And if they do find you, what then? You think they’ll storm in here and rescue you? They don’t even know where you are.”

Kara stepped closer, her voice low and chilling. “They’ll waste time chasing ghosts, and by the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

-----

A silence fell, heavy with unspoken truths. Amelia felt the chill in the air deepen, a reminder of her vulnerability as the hours went by. She felt herself growing hungry and weak by the second, as her eyes tried their hardest to not give into the weight and close themselves.

Deep into the night, the weight of Grant and Kara’s words hit pierced harder than any words. Every moment spent in the room, tied to the chair, her wrists trying to wiggle out of the restrains and the needles digging into her fingers send an engulfing pain across her body. The wires sending shockwaves through her body, were just as bad, she could practically taste the metal in the air, under her skin. 

Amelia was on the brink of giving into the pain and torment, that she was lost caused. She wasn’t going to be saved. That Kara and Grant were right. She was fool to think SHIELD and The Young Avengers—her friends—would care to save her. To release any evidence in hopes of having her come back to them.

That loyalty and trust that tied her to her team was slipping between her fingers.

She could’ve sworn she heard typing of a laptop and invoices being messaged between the two in another room, whenever Kara or Grant weren’t inside with her. She could hear Grant’s low murmur, the occasional sharp retort from Kara. The sound of certain agents from the messages, such as Marlene, her voice was faintly heard, so was Melissa. A flicker of Jeremy’s tone of voice and a few others that she didn’t quite recognize.

She wondered if Jeremy was negotiating a deal to the data on Whitehall or some kind of information in general. She wondered if Melissa trying to relocate the trace of the phone's pattern to her location, or maybe Marlene had just threaten to murder Ward.

Gods know what the others on the line must've been discussing.

However nothing from The Young Avengers.

As for their mouths moving? Conversation between the three echo though the warehouse, a mixture of screams, snarky remarks, and words that were sharper than a knife. Grant was one of the few people, who knew her better than anyone, he had a hand in training her and sense her downfall from a mile away. 

He knew that she knows that there was no one coming from her. And if they did. They would be too late, suffering the lost of someone who they assumed, they care for deeply. It was a twisted symphony of betrayal and desperation that echoed around her, each note driving the point home: she was alone.

Speaking of echos being said, at one point, when Amelia refused to once again to apologize to Kara, the closure to heal according to Grant, the brunette slapped Amelia across the face before she walked around the chair with a wicked smirk.

“If you want a nice view of my ass, sweetheart, that will be...” Amelia said in a slight witty tone, however her voice trailed off, hearing the sound of fabric and a wince of a blade, “..what is she doing?”

Grant didn’t let her swift her neck around to see the damage about to inflect upon her, instead snatching her chin under his fingers, forcing her to face him. For a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, a hint of regret flickering in his brown eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Ames. We can work this out—” He said in a soft tone. 

“No.��� Amelia cut him off, her tone resolute, almost shaking in a hush tone, “Not like this..”

Before she can even repeat her words, a sharp passing of a knife slide across the back of her knees, her inner knees, as she let out a deep whine. She squeezed her eyes and gasped breathing heavily, her chest rising and fall, due to the action taking place. Her eyes water as she gulped, catching Grant’s gaze as she tried to wipe her face towards Kara.

Amelia’s breath came in ragged gasps, the pain radiating through her legs, refusing to show weakness, however it was clear. Grant’s grip on her chin tightened, his gaze searching hers for a flicker of compliance.

Kara stepped closer, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You really think you’re in control here? You’re tied up, and your friends are miles away. This is your reality now.”

Amelia felt the weight of her words sink in, but she wouldn’t give in just yet. “And if I break? If I give they what you want? What happens then?”

She shrugged, a cruel smile curling her lips. “Maybe we’ll let you go. Maybe I won’t. It all depends on how entertaining you are.”

Before Amelia could respond, Grant’s expression shifted, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “Enough, Kara. This isn’t a game.”

Kara rolled her eyes, dismissing his concern. “Oh please, Grant. You’re not her keeper. She made her choices.”

Amelia’s eyes flickered between the pair. Despite Grant’s protectiveness over her, he was true as day that he cared for Kara just the same. He may claim to still love her, but his heart had made space for Kara. She scoffed, honestly, with how delusional they both were, they desires each other. 

“Choices?” Amelia scoffed, her voice steady despite the pain. “Um, I didn’t choose to be here, and you know it.”

Grant’s jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and a hint of guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t want this for you, Amelia. I wanted to protect you.”

“By letting Kara and yourself torture me?” she shot back, her gaze unwavering. “You’re not protecting me, Grant. You lied to me once, you’ll do it again.”

He always said that one thing, she will understand everything he ever done, but she won’t. One look from Kara and Grant, and she realized she was more than a pawn, in this sick game. She’s the queen. The moment she decide to cooperate or her teammates come and find her, give them any information about Whitehall, the game changes. 

If she might even survive this.

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

The hours went by, no help, no hope of salvation—none. 

It was hopeless.

She whimpered and winced, gasping for air as her fingers were being pierced by needles and her body was attached to the wires from earlier. She has been yelled at, bleeding and bruised.

She was purely shaking at this point. At least she was able to convince Ward to release her ankles for some breathing room. However, she was cold. From her feet to her toes, despite the clothing she was wearing, she was feeling the air bouncing against her skin.

As she wiggled her wrists against the restraints, searching for any weakness, the faint sound of footsteps approached. She held her breath, heart pounding, readying herself for whatever was to come.

The door creaked open, and Grant stepped inside. He paused, meeting her gaze with a mixture of concern and resolve. 

“You okay?” he asked, a hint of sincerity breaking through his hardened facade.

Her voice was slightly shaky under her breath, “Is that even a question?”

“Ames.”

“Not even close, and you know it.” 

“It’s gonna be a long night, I knew you’ll be tough. Coulson’s got an eye for talent.”

“So did you..”

He sighed, his harden facade slowly returned, as a tone that was undoubtedly unreadable appeared. He sat down across from her. Her breathing was deep and hitched, her glares softened ever so slightly, before slowly hardening once again.

“You and I are a lot alike, Ames.” He began, his voice simple yet smooth. “Emotions buried deep inside where nowhere will ever find it.”

She shook her head lightly, “Why’s that? Because you know me very well?” “Because the reason why you kill and fight and recruit others..it’s not because you feel it’s a duty.”

“It is..you caught onto that lesson very early on. Being pushed to the prime level, because it hides whatever uncertainty you have..”

“That’s what you think? Are you referring to me or yourself?”

Amelia paused remembering a conversation she had with Skye involving the context of Ward. He kills because of his emotional attachment and his desire to help, not just for his own desire but for a gain. 

But there was something more to that.

After a moment Amelia said under her breath as she admitted, “..it’s not because of nothing, or that it’s a duty to serve..it’s because you feel too much..i feel too much..”

Grant watched her eyes gearing up, the shift in her eyes, at the realization. The pain, the despair, the suffering, the repeated questions and conversation. It was like memories flashed—every laugh, every time she was snapped at, every snarl or glare, every moment of believing in trust and faith—it all came crashing down upon her.

The right push and she can be forced to see the truth, even if she denied it. Hell, the words that Amelia said hit Grant as hard a brick. It wasn’t false, he did care, sometimes way too much. But like he said, he buried it deep, to save himself the heartbreak and torment.

However he did say if Amelia didn’t corporate, or if SHIELD didn’t release information on Whitehall, he will do a certain job. One that she has seen done before..

“Baby, listen to me.” Grant said, bringing her back to the moment holding up needle in-between his fingers. “Kara needs closure. Your teammates are already suffering with no idea where you are, thanks to Kara. But you, just admit you betrayed her and we can end this.”

She scoffed, “You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Betray her? Honey, may I remind you that you betrayed your whole entire team! You betrayed me.”

“For the—! For the hundredth time, I was loyal to Garrett, not HYDRA!”

“For the hundredth time, I don’t care!”

“Amelia!”

“What?! You always have that excuse or decide to blame Garrett for your choices!”

“We both know, if it was the other way another and you were in my shoes, you would understand! We talked about this!”

“I know! And for the that, I say, screw you!”

That’s when Grant leaned forward against the table, his body dangling among the chair he sat in. Their face were mere inches apart, they can feel the other’s hot breath against one another’s face. Every scare, bump and bruise, laced across their face.

The tension was heating off their bodies, their breathing was thick and hitched. 

“You don’t know me as well, as you think you do.” He growled under his breath, his back arched and his palms pressed against the table.

“Sure I do, baby.” She responded, growling in the same exact intensity.

However she held a light smirk, ripping off her restraints that she spent the last hours  loosing up, grunted as she both hands grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the table.

She held out a breath, snatching the needle from his grasp and stabbing him with it. Grant broke free from her grasp just as quickly, as Amelia stumbled backwards. He launched at her as she jumped over the table and kicked him the chest. 

Before they two knew it, they were dancing around, blocking and trying to punch one another into corners. Spinning, turning and trying to slam the other into a wall. Grunts, pounding from footsteps against the ground, shouts and screaming were heard from within the warehouse, as they broke though the walls and into the hallways.

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

At one point, Amelia raised her height was going to cause her a real disadvantage, Grant was taller than her by a lot. So just as he was about to launch at her once again, she reached up to a poll, grasping a tight grip before swinging her legs forwards launching Grant to break though the window of the door. 

“I taught you well..” He muttered, a hint of pride in his voice, before grabbing her and swinging the brunette around as they head butted one another hitting against the tight narrow hallway.

Amelia head was slammed backwards, pounding firm near a wall, before her body slid downwards onto the floor as she grunted and let out a groaned. Grant towered over her just as Kara hurried in, holding her gun towards Amelia.

She was ready to shoot her, but didn’t, yet. She wanted to hear the apology, understand her pain. She exchanged a look with Ward.

“Anything you want to say to Kara?” Grant asked, letting out a deep breath.

Amelia’s eyes darted between the door of them, her vision was blurry as she said, “..yeah.”

“She’s waiting.”

“I’m not sorry anymore..” Amelia muttered under her breath. 

Kara exhaled, lowering the gun, “This isn’t right..I’m not feeling, she’s not sorry..”

Grant took the gun from her stuffing it into his back pocket and placed a hand on her shoulder, “It’s alright, baby, I know what to do..”

Her gaze flickered between the pair, one look from Grant and Amelia knew what was coming for her, he going to pull the trigger. The hours were running up. 

He’ll do the one thing she seen him do, only once, years ago. 

It will not just make her suffer but the ones who claimed to love her...

~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

AHH! It was a lot I know but let me know what you think! Thoughts, comments and what you love about it all. Pls like, comment and share for more.

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @starkleila @aidanxsophxoxo @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @rickb-chaos @topgun-imagines s @hardballoonlove @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @ximehs @savemewattpad @theonlyblackcanary y @terry-perry @triptuckers @daughter-of-melpomene @superspookyjanelle @infinetlyforgotten and etc

[nino-rox]

SHADOWS OF BETRAYAL

PART 1

Grant Ward x Male Reader

Show SPOILER ALERT ! Do not read further if you wish to watch the show

Content Warnings : Angst, Agents of Shield AU, Male OC, Betrayal. {Context: After the Shield collapse (Team Coulson including Y/N ( Your/Name) is at secret base Providence), when Skye finds out about Ward)}

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

Author’s Note: Please keep in mind that watching “Marvel’s Agents of Shield” is important to understand the plot of this story - Contains Spoilers.

In the dimly lit and eerily quiet Providence base, suspicion saturated the air, casting a shadow over every corner. Grant Ward, once a trusted agent, now sat on the edge of a worn-out couch, his rugged features marred by a mix of angst and determination. Y/N, a formidable agent in his own right, observed Grant with a keen eye, his mind racing with doubts and unspoken truths. The weight of his relationship pressed against Y/N's every thought, the delicate balance between love and betrayal hanging in the balance.

Providence, a top-secret base that had become a refuge for Coulson's team after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., was eerily empty. It was just Y/N, Grant, and Daisy, who had stumbled upon the evidence that shattered Y/N's trust in Grant. In the bathroom, Y/N had discovered Daisy's damning message scrawled on the wall, revealing Grant's allegiance to Hydra and his role in the murder of agent Koenig.

The Day turned into a sleepless night as Y/N meticulously gathered evidence, piecing together the fragments of Grant's secret life. His conversations grew strained, laced with unspoken accusations. Grant, sensing the weight of his knowledge, made no attempt to deny his actions. Instead, a storm brewed within him, a potent mix of fear and determination. One pivotal moment, amidst the hallowed silence of the empty Providence base, Y/N intercepted Grant's path. His eyes locked, and the charged atmosphere crackled with unspoken words. Y/N's voice quivered, his resolve mingling with a tinge of vulnerability.

"Grant," Y/N's voice held a mix of strength and uncertainty. "I can't let you go."

Grant's features contorted with a mixture of resignation and trepidation. He knew the consequences of his actions and the revelation that awaited him. With a deep breath, he met Y/N's gaze, acknowledging the intelligence and perceptiveness that lay behind his eyes.

Their confrontation escalated swiftly, the years of shared intimacy and trust now fueling the violence that erupted between them. Grant, aware of Y/N's lethal skills, recognized that he was as competent and cunning as the renowned “Cavalry” (Melinda May) herself. Every move was calculated, each strike intended to incapacitate without causing lethal harm.

But in the midst of the fight, as Y/N's love for Grant battled with his duty, a fatal misstep occurred. A swift motion, a flicker of hesitation, and Y/N found himself on the receiving end of Grant's blade. Pain seared through his body, shock registering in his eyes.

The realization of what had transpired washed over Grant, his panicked gaze locking with Y/N's. Fear mingled with regret, as he never intended for things to reach such a devastating climax. But his desperation to pursue Daisy and secure the hard drive had clouded his judgment, leading to irreversible consequences.

As the agony coursed through his veins, his love for Grant remained steadfast. It was the love that had held them together, and it was the love that pushed him to fight for the truth. With his remaining strength, he locked eyes with Grant, the unspoken words of forgiveness and understanding passing between them, eyes laced with a glint of hatred for their predicament. Their world, once filled with promises and shared dreams, crumbled in that moment. Grant's conflicted emotions mirrored his own as he cradled him in his arms, their intertwined destinies entangled in a web of pain and remorse.

As the darkness closed in, Y/N's consciousness faded, slipping away, leaving behind a shattered bond and the weight of a choice that Grant would carry for the rest of his days.

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Hate To Watch You Go, But Love To Watch You Leave

A/N: Brett Dalton has my heart and watching him be all flirty and give heart eyes to the stunning Gabi Mosley in NBC’s show Found has me giggling like a school girl. Thought I’d toss in my two cents with an OC included in the fun of Episode 4.

Let me know what you think! 🤗

Pairing: Mark Trent x reader (no descriptions used but feminine pronouns are used by other characters when describing the reader).

Warnings: fluff! And a bit of harmless flirting.

I stepped out of my house and turned back to lock the front door. As I was done securing it, the car waiting for me by the curb honked loudly. I offered a middle finger behind me before walking down towards the car and smiling at the driver. Dhan smirked at me and rolled his eyes as I opened the passenger door and sat myself down.

“Was the beeping necessary?” I asked, buckling myself in as Dhan took off.

“Absolutely, annoying is my favorite past time. Was flipping me off necessary?” he said with a deadpan expression, his voice mocking mine. I scoffed at him but smiled nonetheless. Dhan and I were always like this, teasing and annoying each other to the point where people naturally assumed we were siblings. Truth is, Dhan was my best friend. Ever since we started working at Mosley & Associates, Dhan and I were inseparable. I turned back to look at him as we drove to our destination.

“Thank you for picking me up, the mechanic swears that my car should be ready by Monday at the lastest,” I smiled sweetly at Dhan as he rolled his eyes playfully once more.

“You sure it isn’t because you want a guaranteed designated driver so you can get smashed?”

I laughed, shrugging.

“I mean, I was being genuine but be careful cause I might just take you up on that. You ready for another rousing team bonding night?” I teased, knowing that he would rather be doing anything else than playing silly board games at Zeke’s house.

The whole team bonding experience was curated by Lacey, who truly was a sweetheart, and wanted everyone to come together and celebrate a night without any cases to solve. A night where we could let loose and just enjoy each others company. I thought it was a genius idea; things often got too dark in our line of work and a night of inebriated fun sounded like heaven. Every 3rd Friday night of the month, we would all meet up at Zeke’s house for booze, food, board games, charades and even karaoke.

Dhan huffed out a laugh, turning onto Zeke’s block.

“Whatever you say, Short Stop.”

I gave him another middle finger while we searched for parking. We finally found a great spot down the block and walked up to Zeke’s side door. It seemed that the door already ajar with laughter and music seeping through. Lacey was the first to spot us and ran over to me with two beers in hand.

“Yessss the team is all here! Just one more person to go and then we can get this shit started. I’ve only had one drink and I need to rectify that ASAP.”

I laughed while Dhan took his first swig, thanking Lacey for the drink. I went around giving everyone while asking Lacey what she meant.

“One more person? Who else is coming?”

I plopped down on the couch as Lacey answered, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Oh you know, just Trent.”

The look she was giving me screamed “the cat caught the canary” and I could only smile. Lacey has been doing her absolute BEST to try and get Mark Trent and I together for the majority of this past year. Little did she know, he and I were already in a secret little situation-ship of our own. We had been keeping it quiet, not wanting to let anyone into our own bubble for as long as we could help it.

I kept a neutral face and smiled back at Lacey, ignoring her suggestive glances.

“Oh is he? That’s great, it’ll be an amazing ego boost for me when I kick ALL of your asses at Catan.”

Lacey gave an annoyed huff and I took a generous swig of my beer. Dhan groaned out loud and I looked back at him.

“Why the fuck does the cop have to be here? He’s pompous as shit.”

I laughed loudly and Gabi chuckled from across the room. Dhan hasn’t been Trent’s biggest fan for quite some time now, but his dislike only seemed to intensify over the past few months when Trent and I got together. Of course he didn’t know we had gotten together, but it just seemed that Dhan’s brotherly figure senses kicked in magically and he felt the need to always make a snarky comment about Trent.

“Remind me again why you don’t like him?” Margaret asked from her spot by the fridge.

“He’s annoying as fuck and I don’t know if anyone else can see it, but he just eye fucks Short Stop over here any chance he gets. It’s kind of disgusting.”

I almost spit my drink out and snorted out a laugh while Lacey rebutted before I could speak.

“Disgusting? I think it’s hot, he clearly has a crush on our girl here. And he’s such a nice guy, always helping us out,” she smiled at me again, winking as if that was the selling point that would make me finally jump into Trent’s arms.

“I can’t help it if he stares, have you seen me? Fucking gorgeous!” I teased, standing up and giving a little shimmy while I walked to the kitchen to grab the bowl full of chips.

The sound of Zeke’s door opening caught my attention and I looked up, crunching on a chip as I did so. Mark Trent popped his head in and smiled, holding up a two cases of beer as he walked in.

“Hey guys,” he smiled in greeting, nodding at everyone. He hugged Gabi on the way to the kitchen counter to place beer cases down. I smiled at him, and he walked around the counter to say hello with a hug. I took in a breath after wrapping my arms around him, inhaling his cologne and smiling to myself. He gave me a gentle squeeze before pulling back.

“Hi,” I said sweetly as he smiled back.

“Hey you,” he said before addressing the rest of the team.

“I caught the tale end of whatever conversation was going on here before I walked in. Who’s gorgeous?”

Before I could reply, Lacey spoke up. I could see Dhan rolling his eyes and turning around to tune out the conversation.

“Our girl! I mean look at her, isn’t she just stunning, Trent?”

I blushed and threw a chip at Lacey as she pointed at me, and Zeke’s chuckled loudly at her ridiculous attempt at playing matchmaker. Trent looked back at me, a twinkle in his eye as he smirked and gave me a quick once over.

“Yeah, she’s alright.”

I let out a incredulous laugh and slapped Trent’s shoulder. “Dick,” I laughed again and moved away from him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back, laughing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in close.

“I’m just kidding, you’re beautiful.”

I beamed under his praise, his voice melting my heart. I stared up at him, loving how his brown eyes shined with mirth as he stared right into my own. We smiled at each other, forgetting where we were for a split second before a loud cough from Dhan’s brought us back to reality.

“Anyyyyy way, who’s ready to play! Guys verse girls, let’s go ladies!”

Lacey dragged me and Gabi towards the couches to get settled. I was laughing before my eyes connected with Gabi, who had a smirk on her lips. She quirked her eyebrow at me as if she knew something. I gave her an innocent smile and ignored her stare as we began to play.

Hours went by and we were having the best night. We were all slightly buzzed and finally relaxed. I had gotten up at some point to use the bathroom and retuned back to find that the only seat free was by Trent. The rest of the gang was busy watching Zeke and Margaret battle each other in Mario Kart on one of the giant flat screens. I plopped down next to Trent and smiled at him. The feeling of his thigh pressed against mine and his arm tossed nonchalantly over the couch behind me warmed my heart again. I suppressed a shivered, loving the idea of being close to him physically while everyone else was none the wiser. Almost as if he had read my thoughts, Trent leaned down to speak to me.

“Hey,” he whispered, eyes full of happiness.

“Hi,” I whispered back. “Having fun?”

Trent shrugged and nodded, looking back at the team as they all cheered Margaret on.

“Yeah, it’s fun. Everyone’s nice, even Dhan mellowed out after giving me dirty looks all night. What the hell is that about?”

I giggled and looked back to see Dhan place his hands on Zeke’s shoulders, shouting at him to speed up.

“Yeah, apparently he doesn’t like the way you “eye fuck” me,” I said nonchalantly but gave him a teasing look. I leaned in a little closer, the alcohol in my system making me braver in this current setting. “Is that what you do, Trent? You like eye fucking me?” I said sultrily, looking at him with a small smile on my face.

Trent’s eyes tracked from my lips back to my eyes and he gave me a playful smirk, leaning closer to me as well. The arm that was behind me on the couch moved closer, Trent’s fingers playing gently with the bottom of my ponytail.

“Okay, so what if I do like eye fucking you. You have a problem with that?” He said, licking his lips and giving me a smile that made my knees weak. I giggled and looked back behind me to make sure everyone else was still preoccupied with Mario Kart before speaking.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Gonna demonstrate how you do it?” I teased and reached up to fix the collar of his checkered button down. Trent adjusted his position on the couch to face me even more and leaned closer, making my smile wider.

“I could…or I could get you alone and demonstrate a different type of fuc-“ He was cut off by the loud sound of Margaret, Gabi and Lacey cheering while Dhan and Zeke groaned. Trent and I straightened out, both of us with stupid smiles on our faces. I got up to go join the girls, but before I did, I leaned back to whisper in Trent’s ear.

“Maybe you can show me that demonstration you were talking about later at your place…” I winked at him and walked away, swaying my hips just as tad more than usual before leaning my chin on Lacey’s shoulder. In that moment, I knew that Trent probably hated to see me go, but I know damn well that he loved to watch me leave.

*gif not mine*

[buckyseddie]

traps and angry confessions

pairings — grant ward x fem!coulson!daughter!reader, featuring, bff!skye x bff!fem!coulson!daughter!reader, and bff!jemma simmons x bff!fem!coulson!daughter!reader

summary — in which, she’s avoiding her feelings and ward all together and their friends take the two agents’ fate into their own hands and decide to trap them in coulson’s office, forcing them to face their unresolved issues.

word count — 6.1k.

warnings — flashbacks, soft!ward, use of pet-names [princess], HELLA angst, fluff, mentions of both reader’s and ward’s separate traumas and past, first meeting in italics and so is the team talking about her behavior, both reader and ward get very heated and angry at each other near the end, SEXUAL TENSION, passionate (HEATED) kisses.

notes — hi! i’ve noticed that there aren’t a whole lot of fics for ward. so, i’ve decided to write my own (since not a lot of the ones i’ve already read/seen have really interested me). anyways, i’ve just started aos (finally! although, i’ve been wanting to start the show for awhile for fitzsimmons and skyeward.) and i just started s3 and i absolutely adore ward! i know a lot of the things he’s done and that he’s hydra (mostly, from spoilers because it’s marvel and we ALL know how obsessed i am with that universe, etc.), but i still love him (and i’m lowkey simping for him!). i truly can’t wait to see more of his character as i finish the show. anyways, i hope to make more fics about him and the same with general kirigan, since i’ve just started (and finished) shadow and bone, and i usually like to write fics for characters for ALL shows i begin and finish (if i end up liking them). also, please forgive me if i get any of the surroundings’ details wrong. after all, i just started the show! gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

THE MOMENT HE GIVES UP on knocking on her door and the sound of his footsteps finally fade away, [y/n] heaves in a deep sigh of relief. finally. 

after yet another one of her decisions to avoid him, ward instantly noticed the distance she had put in between the two of them and kept trying to approach her every time she walked into the same room as him. 

honestly, it was not easy avoiding him — when they’re literally colleagues and on the same team, it’s kind of hard to stop going to the places she normally would.

and it truly hurt him when it had crossed his mind that she may have decided that she doesn’t want to be around him. i mean, we all know that — as much as he tries to hide it and act all tough — he’s really just a big old teddy bear with so many sensitive emotions that he tries to hide.

and it didn’t just hurt him to come to this realization; when [y/n] had first realized she was failing to keep her feelings hidden and in check, it broke her to even think about ignoring him.

she may have feelings for him, but he has always been one of her friends, not just a teammate. thus, why she felt like she had to keep her feelings completely hidden and buried.

and the second she began to avoid him? she felt immense guilt and regret for hurting him — that had never been her intention. she wants him to be happy and she hates that she’s causing him pain like that. but, she doesn’t really have a choice. at least, in her head, she doesn’t.

because there’s something else that she fears way more than hurting him; ward finding out the truth.

she’d rather die than admit the truth and ruin what they have. because... surely, he could never love her, right?

after ward had found out about [y/n]’s distant behavior, it wasn’t very long before skye had found out about it, too.

the rest of the team found out about it soon after skye — [y/n] hadn’t been very discreet about her most recent behavior and actions.

skye, being the nosy and clever one of the team, was able to find out before fitz and simmons — although, they’re geniuses and all, they’re only able to figure things out fast enough when on missions.

but, in real life? it took the brilliant geniuses awhile to figure out what ward and skye had first noticed right away.

and coulson and may? coulson may have spent most of the time worrying over his only daughter, but he had his own problems to focus on. and may was too busy brooding and training to notice her friend’s — or rather, teammate’s — weird behavior.

but, one day, while most of the team was relaxing about in the lounge — for once, considering that most of the time, they’d be out on a mission — skye blurts it out

she’d been overwhelmed by the bizarre behavior from her friend for the past week. 

and not only did she have a reason to be worried, but it was in her kind nature to be concerned for [y/n].

with a trembling sigh, [y/n] nervously ignores the lingering gazes of some of her teammates — and the burning one of ward’s — as she stumbles over to a cupboard to grab a glass to fill with water.

as he continues to watch her do something as simple as getting water, a cloud of darkness overwhelms him deep in his gut — her ignoring his existence was really getting to him, more than he’d like to care to admit.

after noticing ward’s broken expression, fitz stops talking and moves forward to place a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“mate, you alright?” he questions, still clueless of what’s going on between two of his closest friends, but still noticing the hurt that ward’s clearly trying to hide. 

usually, ward’s very good at compartmentalizing his emotions.

but, when it comes to [y/n]? it’s very easy for him to forget that he even needs to act a certain way, in order to hide his true feelings — he doesn’t need to necessarily hide his feelings, but with the trauma he endured as a child, and how he went through his childhood, he’s always felt like opening up was something he just couldn’t do.

realizing where he is and who he’s surrounded by, ward shakes himself out his daze. “i’m fine, fitz.” he mutters, not bothering to even look at him. 

the rest of the team’s eyes follow the upset and poor-looking woman’s figure as she hurriedly makes her way back to her room. 

sighing, jemma grows quickly frustrated. “does anyone know what’s going on with her? fitz and i have been trying to figure it out, but it’s been unsuccessful. she’s bloody good at not giving out any clues.” she questions, turning to ward, raising a brow at him in question.

“you guys, seriously haven’t figured it out yet?” skye bursts out incredulously, causing a more-brooding-than-usual ward to look up at her confusedly.

fitz and simmons turn to her, sputtering. 

“how would you know what’s going on with her?” ward questions in a suspicious tone of voice, brows knitted together. 

“did she tell you?” he asks again, trying to figure out how she could know that [y/n] is ignoring him. 

everyone stares at her expectantly as she opens her mouth to respond, but closes it again and repeats the action like a fish under water.

“well?” he questions once more, raising a brow at her, causing her to groan in defeat. 

“fine! no, she hasn’t told me. you all should know that; she doesn’t like opening up. she thinks it’s weak to be vulnerable. but, i have noticed that she rarely talks about herself anymore and spends most of her time in her room when there’s not a mission she needs to be on.” she states, catching may’s and coulson's attention. 

“and have any of you noticed how she’s never in the same room with ward anymore? or how she will race out of a room if he’s there? she’s clearly ignoring him for some reason.” she explains in a obviously-tone. 

ward deflates at skye’s confirmation. 

he was really hoping to get some answers. too bad he was unsuccessful.

after skye’s outburst about the truth behind the reason why [y/n]’s acting differently, ward forced himself to snap out of his self-pity and tried harder to talk to [y/n], even if it was damn near impossible.

and while ward kept trying — and failing — to get to the bottom of what was going on with his friend, the team, including coulson, began more aware of [y/n] and her behavior. 

and skye? well, she set out to speak to her friend. 

a knock sounds at [y/n]’s wooden door, startling her and snapping her out of her anxious thoughts about the current situation with ward.

“yeah?” she hesitantly calls out, moving away from the door and smoothing down her hair as she hopes to god that it isn’t ward back to try to talk to her some more. 

“hey, it’s skye. can i come in?” the calming voice of her best friend slowly eases her nerves.

“y—yeah.” [y/n] answers uneasily.

as skye opens the door and enters, quickly shutting it behind her, [y/n] shakily crosses her arms over her chest. 

“hey. how are you doing?” skye gently asks, moving to sit down on her friends bed. 

[y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion. “i—i’m fine.” she stutters, staying frozen in place. 

“can i ask you a question, [y/n/n]?” skye asks softly, trying to show her friend that she’s on her side. 

“sure, yeah. what’s up?” [y/n] nods, finally moving to sit beside her on the bed.

“you’re avoiding ward. is it because of your feelings for him?” she questions, raising her brows at her. 

[y/n] swears her blood runs cold, heart stopping. “w—what?”

“you heard right. [y/n], i’m not going to tell anyone, i promise. but, seriously, i see the way that you look at him.” she states seriously, not ready to let go of her question. 

“w—what makes you think that? how would you know?” [y/n] questions, quickly realizing that it’s too late to lie — skye would see right through her. 

“c’mon. you look at him like he’s your whole entire world. but, there’s also a nervousness and hesitance there, too. you’re scared that you’re going to do or say the wrong thing, right?” skye explains further more. 

“i—i don’t—” [y/n] stutters, not quite fully understanding how she found out. 

“—don’t beat yourself up over it. it’s not like it’s obvious to anyone else. not even ward knows that it’s because of your feelings. i think he just thinks that he did something wrong.” skye states gently, trying not to overwhelm her friend with the information as she places a comforting hand on [y/n]’s shoulder.

“w—what? he thinks he did something wrong?” she questions, heart stopping once again. 

skye nods. 

“how could he think that? he hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s nearly impossible for him to!” [y/n] exclaims to herself in shock.

“it’s not your fault that he’s clueless.” skye says, giggling, obviously choosing now to crack a joke. 

a trembling sigh leaves [y/n], not even hearing her friend’s joking statement — she’s too focused on her emotions that seem to be heightening by every passing second, after hearing this new information.

she didn't want to hurt him. but, now that she knows that it’s more than just pain he’s feeling — that he thinks he did something wrong — the guilt and regret quickly intensifies. 

tears begin to cloud her [y/e/c] eyes as [y/n] begins to think about their first time meeting, and how she’d do just about anything to go back to that. 

a groan leaves the young woman’s throat, rolling her eyes at the worried voice of her father’s on the other side of the phone call as she makes her way to the back of her parked car.

“dad, seriously! i’m going to be fine, alright? i have the training down. and besides! when i’m not out in the field, i’ll be behind a computer and helping out the two other brilliant geniuses you’ve added onto the team and acting as a guide for anyone out on mission.” [y/n] states in a matter-of-factly tone of voice, popping the trunk with her keys and making sure to grab the bags she needs. 

“i know that, honey. as much as you’re trained and know exactly what you’re doing, you’re still my daughter — i’m going to worry as much as i want to.” he replies seriously as [y/n] begins to sense the lecturing-like tone of his voice.

“okay, dad. i get that. but, you’re going to be there with me most of the time. so, you can worry about me then. i just need you to trust me, alright?” [y/n] sighs, hoping that agreeing with him will make the worried phone call end faster.

especially, when she and him can easily talk inside what he prefers to call ‘the bus’. 

a sigh is heard on his side of the call. 

“okay, look. dad, i’m already here and i need to bring in my things. so, i’ll talk to you when i get inside, alright?” [y/n] questions, still balancing her phone in between her shoulder and ear as she tries — and fails — to grab some of her things.

then finally, she’s able to grab each bag and her suitcase, and places them all on the ground, before shutting her trunk gently.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you inside.” he sighs again as [y/n] smiles in victory at getting everything out without any clumsy acts of hers. 

she snaps herself out of her little victory-daze. “okay, dad. bye. i love you.” she murmurs and then is quickly taking the phone away from her ear to end the call. 

with a sigh, a small excited smile twitches on her lips as she tucks her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

excitement begins to consume her at the thought of doing something that could help people — it’s everything that she’s ever wanted.

the small smile quickly turns into a frown, anxiety easily forming deep in her gut as she senses the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying. what if the team doesn't like her? what if she messes up and disappoints her father? what if she ends up getting someone innocent killed?

more anxious thoughts swirl around in her head, causing her to take a few calming deep breaths as she places a hand on the edge of the trunk, leaning forward. 

“okay, [y/n]. just breathe. you’re going to be fine. don’t freak out just yet. you can do this.” after stating this to herself, she gets a few judgmental stares.

ignoring the sudden temptation to flee the area — the best that she can — [y/n] takes a deep breath and goes to grab her duffle bags, placing them wherever she can; her shoulders, her hands, her arms.

the heavy weight of the bags on her body weighs her down a bit as she goes to grab her suitcase. 

as she starts to turn around, dragging her suitcase with her and holding the handle by her hand, she only focuses on her bags and suitcase.

now, considering the area of the globemaster that she’s on, is almost completely filled with agents roaming around hurriedly, it may not have been the best idea for her to not be watching where she’s going. but, she continues to do it anyways. 

and if agent ward himself hadn’t been one of those agents walking in her general direction, maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. but, he is.

and being the brooding and closed-off man that he is, he snaps at her when she accidentally runs straight into him. “mind watching where you’re going?”

“oh god! i—i am so sorry. gosh, i was really hoping to avoid being clumsy, but it seems that’s impossible.” she stutters out an apology, not even realizing the harshness of his tone as she instantly moves to bend down to grab the duffel bags that fell to the ground when she’d ran into him.

thank god she hasn’t really gotten a good look at the agent yet. because if she did, she’d be stumbling over her words more than she already is.

ward bends down to grumpily hand her some of her bags as she continues to grab the rest of her bags and her suitcase. “again, i’m, uh, i’m really sorry about that. i really don’t understand how i’m the daughter of a shield agent, yet have the klutz gene.” she stutters once more, nervous giggles leaving her lips as she looks up.

and when she does, her heart nearly stops. 

her throat goes dry and her heart starts to beat faster than ever, in the sense of her being nervous. even her hands start to get clammy with sweat.

all because of the extremely attractive man standing in front of her. 

agent ward stands in front of her, eyebrows raised and arms crossed on his chest, waiting for her next nervous response.

“w—wow...” she trails off, not even realizing she’s not being too discreet on checking him out from head to toe. 

he clears his throat, snapping her out of her very aware daze.

shaking her head, she nervously runs her fingers through her hair, anxiously beginning to fidget.

“uh, sorry. i—i’m [y/n].” she stutters once more as she lifts a hand up in the air to shake his, only for him to stare at it warily. 

without another response, he turns around and walks back inside.

“o—okay then?” [y/n] mumbles to herself in question form, confused. what is his problem?

a nervous laugh comes from behind her, causing her to turn around.

“sorry about him. agent ward usually keeps to himself — he’s pretty closed-off and rarely relaxes. but, he’ll eventually warm up to you.” jemma simmons states with her accent, giving [y/n] an easy-going smile as she goes to reach for two of her duffel bags that are hanging back on her arms. 

she glances back down, quickly realizing what she’s trying to do. “oh, thank you.” she says, letting jemma take the two bags by their straps.

“really, it’s no trouble. what’s your name? i’m jemma simmons.” she introduces herself as they walk further inside, [y/n] making sure to watch where she’s going this time.

“well, at least someone’s welcoming,” she mumbles, feeling a bit more hurt about ward’s harsh attitude towards her than she’d like. “uh, i’m [y/n], coulson — coulson's daughter. i’m supposed to have multiple different jobs here; i’ll either be in the field, helping you and leopold fitz, or helping guide anyone on missions through the comms.” [y/n] explains as jemma leads her to her assigned room.

after she puts her bags on her bed, she turns to her new friend, listening intently to what she’s saying. 

“so, coulson — your father — i guess, wants us all to meet in the lounge as soon as we’ve been inside.” she explains, leaning against the doorframe.

“oh, okay. let’s go now, then.” [y/n] nods, letting jemma lead her to where the lounge is. 

“oh, and jemma?” she asks, causing the young genius to turn to her in question. “yes?”

“i know i’m his daughter, and all. but, i don’t want anyone to treat me differently because of it, so you can just call him coulson around me — i really don’t want any special treatment.” she states just as they appear outside the lounge. 

jemma nods in agreement. “of course.”

as [y/n] looks around, jemma motions her boyfriend over to them. 

“fitz, this is [y/n], coulson's—” she starts, but quickly catches herself, “—this is [y/n]. coulson's newest additional agent to the team. and [y/n], this is fitz, my brilliant genius of a boyfriend.” she brags in a prideful tone, succeeding in changing the subject from the fact that she almost slipped-up.

ward’s attention becomes drawn to the three people, wondering what jemma was about to say about coulson.

he catches the nervous glance of [y/n] as she nervously shakes fitz’s out-stretched hand. 

“hi. it’s nice to meet you, [y/n]. welcome to the team!” fitz excitedly says, before coulson himself clears his throat, interrupting the little introduction. 

he motions for her to stand beside him in the middle of the room. 

“so, as some of you know, this is my daughter, [y/n].” he starts off as she moves to stand beside him.

she winces as a gasp is sounded nearby, which is obviously fitz. 

she sighs, accepting defeat and accepting the fact that she’ll now be treated different because of this fact being revealed as she dips her head down in embarrassment.

“she’s going to be joining us. she’s got the training, but she won’t always be out in the field — other times, she’ll be helping fitz and simmons out, or will be guiding any of you on missions through the comms.” coulson finishes saying, not noticing the change in his daughter.

daring to look up, she notices the reactions of her new teammates.

ward looks shocked, although he’s trying to seem uninterested.

may wears a — somewhat — surprised look with a raised brow, obviously not that interested in making a big deal out of it.

jemma is wearing a frown, knowing why [y/n] didn’t want to make a big deal out of her being the daughter of coulson.

skye looks surprised, but gives [y/n] a gentle smile, after noticing the anxious expression on her face.

and fitz is only excited at the news. 

“oh, bloody brilliant!” fitz excitedly exclaims, a huge grin placed on his face. 

deeply inhaling in a nervous manner, [y/n] nods. “uh, yes. i’m his daughter. b—but, i don’t want any special treatment, or to be treated differently because of that.” she nervously stutters. 

“yes, of course. leo, sweetheart? you can do that, right? let’s not look at her as just his daughter and only that, yeah?” jemma questions seriously, trying to get his attention. 

after finally noticing the nervous expression on [y/n]’s face, fitz instantly nods, clearing his throat.

“hi, [y/n]. it’s great to meet you. i’m skye.” skye says, stepping forward with a welcoming smile. 

“h—hi. it’s nice to meet you, too.” [y/n] agrees, moving closer to her to shake her hand, feeling a bit more at ease. 

as everyone else starts to lead her to the kitchen and ask her questions, ward, may, and coulson stay put, silently observing her.

ward watches her curiously, almost feeling guilty for being so rude to her.

may watches her with open curiosity.

and coulson watches his daughter with pride over how she handled the situation so greatly.

later that night, [y/n] leaves her door slightly ajar as she makes her bed and moves some of her bags to the floor, just beside her bed. 

an abrupt knock sounds on her doorway, causing her to jump in shock, not having expected the sound. 

she raises her hand over to her heart, which is now beating extremely fast, and sighs in relief when she realizes that it’s just ward at the door.

he watches her in amusement, arms crossed on his chest as he leans against her doorway.

“oh, hey. what’s up, agent ward? do need something?” she questions, quickly becoming a bit nervous because of their first meeting earlier.

he chuckles, shaking his head.

“[y/n], is it?” he asks, raising a brow as she nervously nods. 

“don’t be so formal. you can just call me ward.” he says as she nods, sitting down on her bed.

“so... was there something you needed?” she questions after a few seconds of them just staring at each other in silence. 

he shakes his head, as if he was shaken out of a daze. “right. uh, yeah. i wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier today.” he replies, staying in his spot against the doorway.

“o—oh.” she stutters, brows furrowing as a thought crosses her mind. 

“y—you’re not apologizing just because you found out that i’m coulson's daughter, right?” she questions, hoping he’ll give her the right answer. 

“no, no. of course not. i mean, i’m glad i know who you are. but, i just realized that the way i acted was a bit too harsh.” he explains himself. 

“oh. well, thank you. that means a lot, ward.” she says, no stutters evident in her voice, for the first time all day. 

he nods. 

“goodnight, [y/n].” he says, before turning to leave.

then, he pauses. “oh, and i hope to learn more about you.” he says, turning back to face her, a glimmer of something that she can’t quite understand flickering in his eyes. 

“y—you too.” she stutters out as he finally starts to walk down the hall, a red color filling up to her cheeks.

“[y/n]? are you okay?” skye’s distant voice calls out to her, quickly noticing the faraway look on her friend’s face.

still not getting any response from the lost-in-thought girl, skye shakes her shoulder abruptly.

“huh? what’d you say?” [y/n] mumbles, finally looking over at her, a nervous look in her eyes. 

“i was saying that you should just tell him the truth.” skye repeats her earlier-said statement from when [y/n] was stuck in her thoughts and thinking of the memory of her first day — that day was months and months ago and her and ward had indeed gotten to know each other.

“w—what? why would i do that? that’ll just destroy what we have.” [y/n] sputters, fear practically consuming her. 

“[y/n/n], you know that he’d never let anything mess things up between you and him. i know the story about how you two met — simmons told me. and from the way you’ve bonded? there’s no way he’d let a secret or feelings get in between that.” skye sternly says, trying to convince her friend that admitting the truth won’t be as bad as she thinks. 

“y—you don’t know that!” [y/n] — not being able to help it — incredulously exclaims, abruptly standing up.

“look, maybe i do, maybe i don’t. but, what i do know, is that he’d never hurt you on purpose. and i think that’s what this is really about — you’re scared of getting hurt again. and it’s understandable. but, that’s what falling for somebody requires. love needs sacrifice. and it’s only ever up to you, to give him your heart — to trust him with it. when you love, getting hurt is inevitable. and i can’t force you to tell him. all i’m saying is that you never know whether this opportunity to tell him will be the best choice of your life, or the worst. i just want you to be happy. so, do what your heart truly wants, and i’ll support you, no matter what, okay?” skye states slowly, willing for her statement to sink in.

and it does — it leaves [y/n] almost speechless, so speechless that she becomes completely lost in thought.

and taking her cue, skye decides to leave her friend alone to her thoughts and feelings.

—————

SKYE’S AND [Y/N]’S DEEP CONVERSATION happened three weeks ago.

and every moment in which she saw ward after, was complete torture.

not only was she overwhelmed with guilt and regret over hurting him, but she was also filled with fear of getting her heart broken.

it made her realize that perhaps, skye was right about one thing; [y/n] is scared of getting hurt.

although, she doesn’t talk much about any of her past experiences with relationships — whether that means simply carrying feelings for someone, or dating, or having only platonic relationships — there’s a reason [y/n] rarely talks about herself, or her past.

not even her father knows — she didn’t want to seem weak or vulnerable or not capable of taking care of herself and the team to coulson, or to her teammates.

besides, coulson already worries about her as it is. she didn’t want him to worry any more than he already does. 

but, to her — and skye and jemma — there’s a reason she stopped trusting people so easily.

in every single relationship she’s ever had — except for her father — everyone always hurts her or leaves her.

to understate it, she’s got trust issues and abandonment issues.

and you can’t get hurt if you don’t let anyone in, right?

but, with ward? she unintentionally let down her walls.

she hadn’t even realized that she’d opened up to him and became vulnerable with him, until it was too late.

and honestly? it scared her to no end.

because when all you know is pain, you don’t want to feel it ever again.

and ward is someone that [y/n] will always care about and can never truly have in the way that she wishes. at least, that’s how it is in her head.

after skye helped her realize that the real reason she’d been pushing ward away, was because she was scared to get hurt… well, avoiding him became instantly harder. 

and her becoming much more paranoid and nervous all the time, makes it much more easier for the rest of the team to make a plan that will end the ridiculousness of the situation.

and let me tell you, the conversation between coulson and skye is quite the talk, when he finds out that two of his agents, which consists of his best agent and his only daughter, are harboring intense feelings for each other.

but, nonetheless, after processing what he learns, he eventually agrees that trapping the two heartbroken agents in the same room to talk, is a good call.

after all, if agent ward is the one thing that will make his daughter happy, he can’t exactly object to it. 

after they all finally finish the planning, may — being the best liar of the team — knocks on [y/n]’s door and tells her that she’s needed in her father’s office. 

after hearing the statement, [y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion.

but, nevertheless, she doesn’t think much of it and makes her way towards coulson’s office. 

on the way down the hall, she notices an excited look shared between jemma, fitz, and skye.

she frowns, wondering what the three of them have planned for god knows who.

if only she knew that the excited looks were for her.

sighing, she walks inside her father’s open office, staring down at her feet anxiously.

nervous thoughts swirl around in her head, making her wonder if her father had finally noticed her behavior and was going to lecture her on it. 

but, the sound of the door clicking shut from behind her causes her to snap her head up in the direction of the door. 

“what the hell?” she mutters, racing over to the door, trying to open it, but it’s no use. it’s locked.

after coming to this realization, she groans in defeat, before turning around and leaning against the door.

and when she does, she catches the eyes of the one person she’s been trying to avoid. “w—ward? what—what’re you doing in my father’s office?” she asks in a trembling and wavering voice, swallowing thickly.

“that’s what you have to say? you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. and the first thing you say to me is, why i’m here?”

“wow.” he scoffs, his jaw clenching in frustration. 

“w—what do you want me to say?” she asks quietly, trying to keep herself calm and collected. 

“how about... why you needed to talk to me in coulson’s office? or, better yet, why have you been pushing me away for weeks?” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air for emphasis.

[y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion. “ward, what are you even talking about?” she questions, crossing her arms onto her chest. 

he scoffs once more. “are you that desperate to stay away from me that you need to act like you have no idea what i’m talking about?” he exclaims, jaw clenching harder, if that’s even possible. 

“wha—no! grant, i’m not talking about that. i was talking about the other thing; i never asked to speak with you in here. i’m only here because may said my dad had to talk to me in his office.” she states, raising her brows at him in question, trying her best to act like his words aren’t affecting her as much as they are. 

he turns to her, brows knitted together in confusion. “skye said you had to speak to me urgently.” he states, realization now hitting him.

[y/n] groans, tossing her head back in the air. “great. it can’t be a coincidence that two people on the team said to go in here, right after skye talked to me. they obviously tricked us.” she mumbles dejectedly, before she’s sliding down the door, lost in thought. 

for a moment, the two agents just stare at each other emotionally.

ward’s once angry eyes soften as he notices [y/n]’s teary eyes. 

he heaves in a deep breath, hoping he won’t become more frustrated as they talk. 

“why’d you do it?” he asks in a gruff voice. 

“b—because i had to.” she shrugs, not liking that she’s being forced to remember what she did. 

“that’s not good enough. tell me more.” he sternly says. 

she sputters, the annoyance and frustration deep inside her slowly seeping through her. “not good enough? are you fucking kidding me, ward? you have no idea how hard this has been!” she exclaims, having had enough as she stands up, eyes blazing with anger.

it’s rare that she ever let’s her anger control her, but she’s been bottling everything up for weeks. 

his jaw ticks as his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ shape. “oh? then, make me understand, princess.” he tensely states, using the nickname that he knows annoys her, as a dark look crosses his face. 

she groans at the nickname — that’s what he calls her when he’s upset with her.

he calls her it to remind her that she’s coulson's daughter, knowing that she doesn’t want special treatment.

“how could you possibly understand? besides, the second i tell you, you’re going to hate me!” she exclaims, ignoring the insulting nickname as she throws her hands up in the air frustratedly. 

“try me.” he insists, the dark look still placed on his face. 

slowly, the tension and anger and built-up emotions between them grows and grows by every passing second. 

and then, it’s like it all pops — exploding — and [y/n]’s control over her anger and hesitance to keep quiet is quickly forgotten. 

“alright, ward. you wanna know what’s going on?” she asks annoyedly, tone almost dangerously calm as he slowly nods, jaw still clenched as he takes notice of her anger.

“i've been, what you call, ‘pushing you away’, to protect you. you see, i haven’t opened up, or been vulnerable with anyone in a long time! you know why? because everyone either hurts or leaves me! i haven’t trusted anyone or opened myself up in a long fucking time. and then, you,” she angrily says, walking over to him and poking his chest to annunciate the word ‘you’, “you fucking walked into my fucking life. and for the first time in forever, i didn’t even question it as i just let you in — i let my walls down, i trusted you, and i let myself get attached!” she continues on, getting more angry and emotional by every second as he simply listens, trying to ignore his own anger that’s starting to build up deep inside him.

then, the tears start to cloud her vision, making everything blurry.

but, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn’t let them escape. 

“and you know what i got? i got falling for you. i got the realization that these little secret feelings that i've been harboring for you for months could destroy us. i got my heart broken over the guilt and regret and fear of getting hurt. i got my best friend telling me that i’m scared of you hurting me, and telling me that you thought you did something wrong! i got her telling me that i’m hurting you. and i got her telling me that i need to tell you how i feel, or i’ll lose you forever!” she yells this time, almost completely falling apart as shock overtakes ward.

“don’t fucking tell me that after this, we’ll be fine. because we won’t! you don’t feel the same, and i have to live with it.” she continues, practically shaking at this point.

“so, ward. you wanna know what you did wrong? the truth is, you did nothing wrong. you’re fucking perfect. because it wasn’t you, who did something wrong. it was me. and you wanna know what i did wrong?” she questions, her voice breaking. 

he’s silent now, tears of his own surfacing.

“i let you in — i fell for you! and it’s my fault!” she exclaims, now hitting her fists onto his chest, tears and sobs leaving her. 

not being able to completely get a grasp onto what she’s confessed, he lets her use him as a punching bag. 

“so, ward. tell me, is everything going to be fine?” she spits out, continuing to smack his chest angrily. 

and then, it’s as if he snaps out of his shocked daze and the anger is tumbling out. 

“yes. it is.” he mutters.

he easily grabs onto her wrists, stopping the constant angry hits from her. 

she gasps. “ward, what—” she whispers, still emotional, as he drops her hands to fall to her sides and grips the back of her head.

then, he heatedly pulls her to him, instantly closing the distance between them as he smashes his lips to hers.

a strangled noise of shock leaves her, but she doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

the kiss is full of angst, anger, and love, all combined. 

his tongue enters her mouth and the kiss becomes much more heated as she moves her hands up to his hair.

she tugs on it, bringing a groan to leave ward’s lips.

and then, they’re pulling away for air. 

“w—wow.” [y/n] stutters, gasping for air. 

he nods, thinking the exact same thing as he gently caresses her cheek, most of his frustration gone. 

“i thought you didn’t feel the same. but, i guess that kiss is my answer then, huh?” she mumbles, blushing as he chuckles.

“i can give you that answer again, if you want?” he offers with a smirk.

“yeah. yeah, i’d like that very much.” she says, giggling as he closes the distance between them again, this time being a lot more gentler.

and… let’s just say things got a lot better for them after that.

[justauthoring]

Trapped In Sanatorium [M.M.]

Request: Can you do a mike x reader from until dawn where he finds the reader trapped in the sanatorium and she’s injured and he helps her

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count: 750

Blinking, you groan. My head... 

As your vision clears, you realize that you’re in some kind of room. It’s dark. but not too dark that you can’t see. You’re on concrete and the ceiling above you is also concrete, both equally dirty and covered in dust. Where are you?

Or more importantly, how had you ended up here?

Moving to set up, you ignore the pounding in your head, pressing your hand against your forehead. You try to think back to what you last remember. You’d made it to the cabin with the rest, Mike and Jessica had gone off on their own and then Matt and Emily had also left... Then you’d gone for a short walk, just a short walk.

It was blank after that. You faintly remembered running, something chasing you but you don’t remember what. It wasn’t human. You know that.

And now you were here, with a pounding headache, your shirt ripped and you’re pretty sure there was blood dripping from your forehead. God, how had things turned so fucked up?

Rubbing at your eyes, you move to stand up, placing hand on either side of you. But, as you do so, a sharp pain shoots through your leg and you fall back to the ground with a cry. “Jesus!” Slumping against the wall like before, you lower your gaze to your leg, pulling back the ripped flap of your legs to reveal a nasty scar across your calve and a swollen ankle. You must of sprained it.

Perfect.

Well, now what?

You don’t have much time to think of answer for your own question before you hear distant footsteps. You freeze, breath halting as you feel all your muscles tighten up. What if what that... that thing? Oh, God, please don’t be that thing.

For what feels like forever but can’t be more than a few minutes, you simply sit there, listening to the... whatever it is, footsteps echo around behind you. And then, you hear a voice, it’s faint. But it’s definitely human. You shift closer to the edge of the wall you’re both leaning against and hiding behind, trying to decipher the voice. If it’s one you know or someone you can trust.

“Jesus, what is this place?”

Wait. You know that voice.

“Mike?” Pulling your body around the wall, you finally lay eyes on the owner of the footsteps, sure enough finding Mike stood just a little bit ahead of you. “Is that you?” He turns sharply at your voice, obviously not having realized it was you at first given the fear in his gaze, before it settles on your own and is replaced with worry. 

“Y/N?” He calls, rushing towards you. He stops, crouching down to meet your gaze steadily before his eyes wander across the rest of your body. “Jesus fuck, what happened to you. How did you get here?”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t remember?’

“I left the others just to go for a walk,” you begin, voice shaky. You reach forward without thinking, hands falling on Mike, desperate for some sort of comfort. “Just a walk and then there was something chasing me. I ran, but it was fast and I...I think it got me. It scratched me on my leg,” you pull back your leggings once more, showing Mike the nasty scar. “And then I think I got away, kept running without knowing where I was going... I must of ended up here.”

Mike nods, glancing at your scratch briefly before you pull his attention back on you. 

“Mike...”

‘Yeah?”

“The thing,” you begin, voice shaky. “The thing chasing me. It... It wasn’t human.”

Mike doesn’t seem as surprised as you expect him to be. He doesn’t even seem to doubt your words. For a fraction of a second his eyes widen and then he sighs, shoulders falling. “We’ve got to get you out of here. Get back to the others.”

“Wait, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll explain on the way, okay?” Mike says, meeting your gaze, holding his hand out towards you. “But we have to go, now.”

You nod, placing your trust in Mike and letting him pull you up to his feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. And, somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize that Jessica is missing. One look at Mike and you see something in his eyes, something dark, sad, and something deep inside you tells you not to ask.

You’re just thankful he’s here.

-

Let me know what you thought?

[mysuperheroobsession]

Dear Lizzie Chapter 14

Elizabeth Olsen x reader

Thecoffeeshopgirl So apparently (since everyone is making a huge deal) I have to announce that yes I do know RyJames. He is my daughter's father and a great one at that. No, we are not together but we get along great cause what matters is our little girl. We were best friends before Dotty came into our lives and we are still best friends so please everyone stop hating on him.

Tagged: RyJames

Comments have been disabled.

A/n: I know it’s short.

[sea040561]

Agents of Shield Fan Fiction

Does anyone out there write AOS fan fiction with the real life actors? Specifically Brett Dalton? Or if you aren't comfortable writing real life actors, I'd even take Grant Ward (except he never turned bad lol) For some reason, I'm all of sudden dying for a fic with Brett/Grant x reader (me!). These are the key points for the fic that I'd prefer: -Must include smut -Reader is a virgin (doesn't matter her age) -Doesn't know who Brett or Grant are (actor or AOS) -Never been in a serious relationship -Relationship leads to marriage & pregnancy (can be implied)

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: In the eerie sanatorium halls, a Wendigo attack leaves you injured, pushing Mike's protective instincts into overdrive.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Graphic description of injuries but not too deep. Angst. Happy ending. Heavy make out session.

You can consider this a part 2 of the fist fic i wrote for Mike but it can easily be read as a standalone. Thank you all so much for all the comments and likes on my first Mike Munroe story! Now I have an excuse to write more for him ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Words counts: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The oppressive darkness of the sanatorium clung to every corner, the air thick with the stench of rot and decay. Your footsteps echoed faintly as you and Mike moved cautiously through the long, decaying hallway.

Mike was ahead, gritting his teeth as he wrestled with the stubborn door of the room that held a shotgun and ammunition inside. He was trying everything. Shouldering it, kickin it, using his weight to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. The door was rusted and seemed to be mocking his attempts to open it.

"Come on, you piece of shit," Mike growled under his breath, slamming his shoulder against the door again with a frustrated grunt. His breath came out in harsh puffs, fogging in the cold air.

You stood a few feet behind, your eyes flickered nervously around. Every distant creak or scrape set your nerves on edge. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching, lurking just beyond the reach of your flashlight.

A faint voice echoed from down the hallway. "Help... please... help me." It was Jessica's voice. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear swirling inside you. Jessica? You thought she was dead.

"Mike, did you hear that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, already taking a few hesitant steps toward the source of the sound.

Mike's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the task at hand. "What? No. I didn't- wait, what did you hear?" He glanced over his shoulder, but you were already moving down the hallway, drawn toward the voice that called out again, more desperate this time.

"Help me, please!" Jessica's voice cracked with pain, and your mind raced. You moved quicker, following the sound into a side room, your flashlight shaking in your trembling hand.

It couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. But the voice was so familiar, so desperate, that you couldn't stop yourself from moving toward it. Your legs seemed to act on their own, driven by a faint hope that somehow, Jessica had survived.

The voice came again, more desperate this time. "Help... please..."

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you moved cautiously into the room. The floor was littered with debris, broken furniture, shards of glass, and piles of crumbling wood. The walls were covered in mold, and the air smelled of damp rot.

"Jessica?" you whispered, your voice shaking slightly as you scanned the room. "Jess... where are you?"

The voice, once a call for help, turned into a twisted, distorted mimicry of Jessica's scream.

A figure dropped down from a broken window above. The Wendigo landed with a sickening thud, its bones pressing grotesquely against its pale skin.

The remnants of torn and dirty clothes still clung to its body, a reminder of the human it once was. Its face, a twisted mess of teeth and sinew, sniffed the air, its milky-white eyes darting around the room, searching for movement.

They're blind, they only see those who move.

The creature's head snapped to the left, its limbs twitching unnervingly as it started to replicate Jessica's voice again. "Help me. help..."

The mimicry was perfect, the voice identical to Jessica's, but there was something horribly wrong with the way it was spoken now that you heard it up close. It was hollow, empty, as though it was toying with the memory of the girl you had once known.

You didn't dare to move.

You didn't even breathe.

It was close now, inches from you, its breath hot and rancid against your skin. You could hear the crackle of its joints, the faint click of its jaws as they opened and closed, tasting the air.

Just when you thought the creature would tear you apart, the deafening blast of a shotgun shattered the tense silence. The Wendigo's body jerked violently as the shotgun's impact threw it against the wall with bone-shattering force. The creature let out a shriek, the noise echoing through the room.

"Don't you fucking dare touch him!" Mike's voice rang out, fierce and raw with emotion. He stood in the doorway, shotgun still smoking in his hands, eyes blazing with fury.

He was at your side instantly, his hand grabbing yours and he yanked you out of the room with a sense of urgency. "Run!" he commanded, and together, you bolted down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could hear the Wendigos now, their guttural snarls and skittering movements echoing through the corridors.

"I swear, if you ever do something that stupid again, I'll-" Mike began, his voice tight with fear, but before he could finish, another Wendigo screech from behind you.

It was gaining on you both, its skeletal form moving unnervingly fast as it closed the distance. It leaped at Mike, its claws outstretched, aiming to tear him apart.

"Mike!" you screamed as the creature tackled him. Mike grunted as he used the weapon as a makeshift shield, blocking the Wendigo's swipes as they slashed toward his face. The Wendigo screeched, its jagged teeth gnashing together as it tried to claw its way through the weapon. Mike grunted, his muscles straining as he shoved the creature back, the shotgun rattling in his hands.

Its claws raked against the shotgun as it was knocked out of his hands in the process. The weapon skidded across the floor, out of reach, as the creature lunged at Mike again, pinning him to the ground.

For a terrifying moment, you saw the Wendigo's claws hovering inches above Mike's throat, its grotesque mouth open wide as it prepared to strike. Without thinking, you grabbed the machete that had fallen from Mike's belt and charged forward, your heart racing as you swung the blade with all your strength.

The machete barely cut through the thick skin of the Wendigo's head, but it stopped moving. The creature collapsed on top of Mike, its lifeless body twitching.

Mike let out a breathless grunt, shoving the body off him with a groan, his chest heaving from the effort as he turned to look at you.

Mike's eyes were wide, his face a mixture of shock and gratitude. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Holy shit," Mike breathed. "You saved my ass." His voice was thick with emotion, his usual cocky smirk absent as he stared at you in awe.

Mike's gaze softened, his lips parting as a slow, proud grin spread across his face. The adrenaline still pumped through his veins. You had saved him. You had fought for him. And now, as he lay there on the ground, bruised and battered, he couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness and admiration.

How did I get so lucky?

Mike's thoughts raced as his eyes traced over your form, taking in the way you stood, strong and capable and in that moment, with you standing over him, your chest rising and falling with exertion, sweat glistening on your skin, he wanted nothing more than to pull you down to him, to feel you against him. He imagined pulling you close, his hands wandering, his lips finding yours, desperate and hungry.

"You're incredible, man" Mike said, his voice softer now, more intimate. "I mean... I always knew you were tough, but that-"

He was cut short when the sound of another window breaking snapped him back to reality.

Another Wendigo burst through it, moving with a terrifying speed. Its claws were outstretched, eyes wide and blind, as it lunged directly for you. The machete slipped from your grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground as the creature slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs. The Wendigo's claws raked across your side, leaving a fiery slash that tore through your flesh. You cried out, clutching your side as blood soaked through your shirt.

"NO!" Mike screamed, his voice raw with terror as he scrambled for the shotgun. The Wendigo grabbed you by the leg, its claws sinking into your skin as it began to drag you toward the window.

You thrashed against the creature's grip, panic flooding your senses. The pain from your wounds made it hard to focus. The Wendigo's strength was overwhelming, its bony fingers tightening around your leg as it pulled you closer to the jagged glass of the broken window. The debris on the floor slashing your skin in the process.

Mike was on his feet in an instant, the shotgun in his hands as he sprinted toward you, firing wildly at the wendigo. He kept shooting, missing a few times, the desperation clear in his voice as he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred from the pain, your limbs heavy and weak as you tried to fight back.

"Get off him!" Mike roared, his voice full of desperation as he fired again, this time hitting the creature square in the chest. The impact sent the Wendigo stumbling backward, its grip on you loosening just enough for Mike to reach you.

With a grunt of effort, Mike grabbed your arm, yanking you back to your feet and into the room. You collapsed onto the floor, your body trembling from the pain and adrenaline while Mike closed the door.

He was at your side in an instant, his hands hovering over your wounds, his face pale with fear.

They were deep. Three long, jagged cuts across your back, blood pooling beneath you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mike cursed under his breath. His hands were shaking as he pressed them against the gashes in your side, trying to stem the bleeding, but there was so much blood.

The pain was unbearable, but seeing Mike like this hurt even more.

"Jesus, this is bad. God, I'm such an idiot." he muttered, his voice trembling.

You groaned in pain, the agony in your side intensifying with each passing second.

"Mike..." you croaked, trying to get his attention, but he wasn't listening. His hands were still pressing desperately against your wounds, blood staining his fingers as he kept cursing under his breath.

"This is my fault. I should've-fuck, I'm so fucking stupid. Why did I let you come here? Why didn't I-"

"Mike, stop..." you whispered, your voice weak from the pain.

But he wouldn't stop. He was spiraling, the guilt consuming him as he rocked back on his heels, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"We need to get out of here," Mike muttered to himself, his voice strained with desperation. He looked down at your injured form, his gaze flicking between your pale face and the blood soaking through your clothes.

The Wendigos were still out there and you were in no condition to run. Mike's mind raced as he tried to think of anything, anywhere, that might offer some kind of safety. His eyes darted toward the hallway as he recalled the old map he had found earlier, remembering the position of the nursery.

"There might be something there," he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

He leaned down and scooped you into his arms, cradling you as if you weighed nothing. You winced at the sudden movement, the pain in your side flaring up, but Mike's grip was steady, firm, holding you as if he was afraid to let go. He held you close, bridal style, your body pressed against his warm and sturdy chest as he began to move.

"I've got you" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing.

His heart pounded in his chest as he carried you down the darkened hallways, the dim light of the flashlight casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound seemed like a threat, and Mike's grip on you tightened with each step. He refused to let you go.

"Just hold on," Mike said through gritted teeth, his eyes darting around the narrow hallways as he moved cautiously.

Your head rested against his chest, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was pounding hard, faster than usual, fueled by adrenaline and fear. The pain in your side had dulled to a throbbing ache, and you couldn't help but notice how tense Mike's body was, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"Mike" you managed to rasp out, the pain making your voice hoarse. "You're... freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," he snapped, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the path ahead, "I just... I need to get you fixed up. I need to-"

"Mike" You reached up, your hand weakly brushing against his chest, trying to calm him. "I'm not dying."

He didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was low and shaky. "You don't know that."

You tried to force a smile, though it hurt to do so. "I've had worse."

"Yeah? When was the last time you were clawed by a fucking monster?" His eyes darted to yours, his fear masked by frustration. "You're bleeding all over the place, and it's my fault.

"It's not your fault," you said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "I chose to come with you"

"And I shouldn't have let you," Mike muttered, more to himself than to you. "I should've made you stay behind."

"You know I wouldn't have stayed behind," you replied, a weak smile tugging at your lips. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

His jaw clenched, and he didn't respond, his eyes fixed forward as he continued down the hallway, his arms never loosening their hold on you.

You didn't know how bad the injury was, but the blood that soaked through your clothes was enough to tell you it wasn't good.

You felt the world spinning slightly as he moved, your vision blurring at the edges. It was getting harder to stay awake, harder to keep focused on anything but the searing pain in your side. The sounds of the sanatorium echoed around you. All you could hear was the frantic beat of Mike's heart against your chest.

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. "Mike..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He snapped his head down to look at you, eyes wide and desperate. "Don't. Don't you dare close your eyes," he growled, his voice rough with panic. His arms tightened around you, almost painfully so, as he quickened his pace. "Stay with me, damn it. Stay awake. You hear me? You're not going anywhere."

But it was so hard to focus. The exhaustion was pulling you under like a heavy tide, dragging you down into the dark. Your eyelids fluttered, and you heard Mike curse again, his breath hitching. "Hey! No, no, no. Look at me. Look at me!" His voice was sharper now, laced with fear. "Stay awake. We're almost there. I swear, we're almost there."

The strain in his voice pulled you back, just for a moment, and you forced your eyes to open a little wider. His face was set in a scowl, but his eyes were wild, desperate.

Mike finally reached the nursery. It was a small, decrepit room, the paint on the walls peeling, and the furniture broken and scattered.

Mike set you down on one of the dirty beds as gently as he could, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled away. You winced again, the movement sending another sharp wave of pain through your body, but you forced yourself to stay quiet.

He hurried to the other side of the room, his eyes scanning the shelves and cabinets for anything that might help. He found an old, dusty first aid kit, half-hidden beneath a pile of debris.

Mike knelt beside you, his hands still shaking as he opened the kit. Inside were a few old bandages, a small bottle of alcohol and a torn-up sheet that he could use as makeshift bandages. He tore the fabric with his teeth.

It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

The silence between the two of you was heavy as he peeled off your shirt. Mike's hands hovered over your wounds, his face twisted in concentration at the deep gashes torn into your side.

He poured the alcohol onto the wounds, the stinging sensation making you clench your teeth to keep from crying out. He was doing his best to be gentle, but the pain was still excruciating.

"Shit... sorry... I'm sorry," Mike kept repeating under his breath, his eyes flicking between the injuries and your face. He looked as though he was about to break, his guilt consuming him.

"If you wanted to get my shirt off, all you had to do was ask." You said, your voice soft despite the pain radiating through your side.

He didn't smile, didn't give you that sarcastic comeback you had been hoping for. His jaw was still set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on wrapping the gauze around your waist.

"Don't joke about this," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You're bleeding everywhere, and I-"

"I'm serious!" you interrupted, forcing a grin through the pain. "If you wanted to play the hero, you could've just asked. You didn't have to engage in a whole monster attack just to impress me."

He refused to look you in the eye, his jaw clenched as he muttered something under his breath, too quiet for you to make out.

You saw the fear and guilt etched into his face. He was scared. More scared than you'd ever seen him before. His focus was singular, driven by the overwhelming need to fix the damage, to keep you alive.

The usual cocky, confident air that surrounded Mike was gone, replaced by a quiet panic that seemed to consume him.

You knew you had to say something. Mike was drowning in guilt, and if you didn't pull him out of it, he might never forgive himself.

Time to try again.

"Come on, Mike," you said, your tone playful despite the situation. "You're not enjoying the fact that I'm shirtless in front of you? I thought this was, like, your dream scenario. You, me, a creepy sanatorium, and a lot of body contact."

You were expecting at least a flicker of amusement, a quirk of the lips, anything that showed he was still the Mike you knew. But there was nothing. His silence only made the fear gnaw at you more.

Your hand reached out to gently touch his arm. "Mike, I'm serious. You saved me. You're the reason I'm still here, okay?"

His shoulders tensed under your touch, and he finally looked up at you, his expression conflicted. You could see the guilt still etched into his features, the self-loathing that twisted his mouth into a grimace.

"But you still got hurt," Mike snapped, his voice rising slightly with the weight of his emotions. His hands clenched into fists, the bandage half-finished as he pulled away, unable to look at you. "I wasn't fast enough. I should've... I should've done more."

"Done more?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to inject a little more lightness into your voice. "What were you supposed to do, Mike? Punch the Wendigo in the face? Because I'd like to see that."

For a brief moment, you thought you saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Hey," you said softly, reaching out again to touch his arm, this time gripping it a little tighter. "Look at me."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but after a moment, he turned his head toward you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I'm still here," you said quietly, your voice filled with as much reassurance as you could muster. "Thanks to you."

Mike's eyes flickered with something, some internal struggle playing out behind them.

"For a guy who spends half his time flexing and trying to show off his heroics," you began, leaning back slightly on the bed, wincing a little as the pain in your side flared up. "You're really bad at taking credit when you actually save someone."

That got a reaction. Mike's brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced at you, confusion mixed with frustration.

"I'm just saying," you continued, pretending to be casual as you gestured with your hand, the blood on it had now dried up. "You've got the whole 'tough guy' thing down, but when you actually do something heroic, like, I don't know, saving my life, you act like it wasn't enough."

Mike's frown deepened, but this time there was a spark of something familiar in his eyes, something like the Mike you knew.

"Not everything is a joke, okay?" Mike muttered, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice now.

You grinned. "I know it's not a joke, Mike. I'm just trying to remind you that you're not a screw-up. I know you're used to making dumb decisions, but this wasn't one of them."

For a brief moment, Mike looked like he was going to argue, but then he let out a quiet, exasperated huff. His lips twitching in a way that told you he was fighting back a smirk.

"There he is," you teased lightly, your grin widening. "I knew you were still in there somewhere."

Mike's shoulders relaxed slightly, and for the first time since the attack, his expression softened. He shook his head, finally finishing the bandage on your side. The corner of his lips tugged upward as he tried to suppress a smile, a trace of his usual cocky confidence returning.

"You're an idiot," Mike muttered, but there was a warmth in his voice that hadn't been there before. He met your eyes again, the weight of the guilt starting to lift.

"I had to learn from the best," you shot back playfully. "You're pretty good at being an idiot yourself."

Mike chuckled softly, a sound that sent warmth through your chest despite the pain. "Yeah, well... guess I can't argue with that."

You leaned back against the pillow, the tension in the room finally easing. Mike's usual sarcastic demeanor was starting to slip back into place.

"I never really thought I'd spend a night in a creepy-ass sanatorium being patched up by a guy who probably spent his teenage years trying to impress girls with bad one-liners." You said, trying to keep the conversation going.

Mike snorted, shaking his head. "First of all, my one-liners were legendary. They even had you blushing when I dropped them on you. Second, I'm pretty sure I'm saving your life right now, so maybe a little more appreciation, huh?"

"Oh, believe me, I appreciate it," you replied with a grin. "But you have to admit, this is pretty far from a normal night out."

"Yeah, well, normal's overrated," Mike said, his tone lighter now. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes lingering on the bandage he had just finished tying around your waist. "But... seriously. I'm glad you're okay."

That fear hadn't fully left him yet.

"I'm okay because of you." you said, your voice softer now, more serious. You sat on the bed, looking up at him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your lips were sealed tight so you wouldn’t produce any sound of the pain still lingering.

Mike met your gaze again, his expression conflicted, torn between the guilt that still lingered and the relief that you were alive. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he just stared at you, his eyes dark with emotion.

Without warning, he leaned down, his hands gripping your face with a force that nearly made you gasp. His lips crashed into yours with a desperation that took you completely by surprise. The kiss was rough, almost violent in its intensity, his breath was hot and ragged, each exhale trembling with the intensity of the emotions he was trying to keep in check.

His tongue pushed past your lips with an almost feral hunger. The roughness of his tongue mirrored the intensity of his kiss, his movements sharp and demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough to you, couldn't feel enough of you. His tongue explored your mouth, not gently, but with a wild fervor that made your heart race and your body tremble under him.

You responded instinctively, your arms tightening around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your body aching yet craving the connection he was giving you. His weight pressed down on you more as the kiss deepened.

His breath grew hotter, more frantic. His fingers tightened on your skin, almost painful, like he was terrified to let go, his tongue still working against yours, desperate to drown out any space between you. You could feel his desperation in every frantic breath, his rough kisses stealing away any sense of time as he devoured you.

His hands slipping from your face to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, needing more.

Needing you.

You could feel the heat of his breath as he pulled back only for a fraction of a second before diving back in, his lips pressing into yours with renewed force.

Your lungs burned as the kiss deepened further, but you didn't care. All you could focus on was him. On the raw, unfiltered emotion in every press of his lips, every tremor of his hands. Mike's hands roamed your body, careful to avoid your injury, but firm enough to hold you in place. His breath was hot against your skin as he kissed you with a kind of hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you gasping for breath. His eyes were dark, clouded with emotion, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. His hands still cradled your face, thumbs brushing softly against your skin as though trying to calm himself after the storm he had unleashed.

His breath was shaky, his body trembling slightly as he looked at you with a mixture of relief. "I promise. I won't let anything happen to you." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

No matter what would happen next, you had Mike. And Mike had you.

And that was enough.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Next week I think I’m gonna post a Mike Munroe jealous fic with smut! Hope you’ll like it ♡

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: At the lodge, your friendly chat with Matt sparks Mike's jealousy. In the woods, he finally confesses his feelings, igniting a passionate connection between you and him, culminating months of hidden desire.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Oblivious reader. Friends to lovers. Jealousy. Emily is hostile to the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Smut out in the open. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Blowjob (r giving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3.

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The cold mountain air bit at your skin as you trudged up the snow-covered road toward the lodge. A chill ran through you, and you tugged your jacket tighter, glancing around at the quiet landscape. Your boots crunched softly against the thick blanket of snow with each step.

You didn't hear it at first, but you felt a presence behind you and soon two large, warm hands suddenly covered your eyes. You froze for a split second, your heart leaping into your throat as a familiar voice whispered in your ear, low and teasing.

"Guess who?"

For a second, you were caught off guard and frightened, but then, just as quickly, you let yourself relax, recognizing the rough feel of his calloused hands, the deep timbre of his voice, and the warmth radiating from his body as he stood close behind you. His chest was almost touching your back.

Mike.

Of course, it was Mike.

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused, and leaned back slightly against his chest, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. With a gentle push, you pried his hands away from your eyes and spun around to face him.

"Real subtle" you said, shaking your head as you met his eyes.

He chuckled, his breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, it worked, didn't it? You jumped, so I won."

"You're an idiot," you retorted, though your tone was more playful than annoyed.

Mike shrugged, his grin widening. "Yeah, but I'm your favorite idiot”

You shot him a quick glance, unsure if you'd imagined the shift in his tone, but the playful grin on his face remained, as if daring you to respond.

"You really are full of yourself, huh?" you teased, hoping to mask the sudden warmth blooming in your chest.

Mike grinned wider, clearly unfazed. "Someone's gotta be, right? Besides, it's fun getting reactions out of you."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts," you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your heart was racing.

Mike chuckled again, his tone softening as his gaze lingered on you. "You look good, by the way," he said, almost offhandedly. "Really good."

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered for a moment, unsure how to take the compliment without overanalyzing it.

"Thanks," you muttered, trying to play it cool. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Not so bad?" Mike echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, I know I look better than 'not so bad’ “

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, fine. You look good, Monroe."

He flashed you a cocky grin, clearly pleased with himself. "That's more like it." His voice was smooth, laced with the kind of playfulness he always reserved for you. He was standing closer than usual, his gaze unwavering. You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension.

"So, how are things with Emily?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Mike's smirk faltered for just a second, he ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before looking back at you. "We broke up."

You blinked, surprised. "Oh... I didn't know. Sorry."

You had already an idea of why it might have happened.

"Nah, don't be," he said with a casual shrug, though there was a heaviness in his tone that betrayed his words. "It wasn't working out."

The ease in his voice didn't quite match the tightness in his jaw, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of guilt for bringing it up.

"Besides," he added, stepping a little closer, "I'm single now."

His voice was low, almost suggestive.

He glanced at you, trying to gauge your reaction. A part of him wanted to see something, anything in your expression that hinted you cared about his relationship status, that maybe you were glad he was no longer with Emily. He didn't know if he could ever tell you how much he'd thought about you while he was with her.lo

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne mixing with the crisp mountain air. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made your pulse race and your thoughts blur.

You both continued talking, light and casual conversations together and Mike's thoughts were only on you. How good you looked standing there, snowflakes clinging to your hair, your cheeks flushed from the cold. How amazing it felt when you'd leaned back against him earlier, even if it was just for a second. He'd wanted to hold you there, to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

He caught himself glancing at your lips more than once, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you right here, right now, in the middle of the snowy mountain. To show you, finally, how much he cared, how perfect things could be between the two of you if you'd just let h

But he hadn't said anything yet. Not because he didn't want to, but because... well, because he wasn't sure how you felt. He'd never seen you with anyone else. Sure, you were always friendly, always laughing, but he didn't know if that meant anything more.

So, instead of saying what he really wanted to, Mike kept the conversation light, teasing you, making you laugh and you shot back with your own sarcastic retorts.

Eventually the moon was already high in the sky and it got dark really quickly. You started making your way up to the lodge together, racing on who could arrive first.

When you both arrived at the lodge, the warmth of the fire greeted you, along with the sound of your friends chatting and getting settled in

Mike scanned the room, spotting a seat on the couch. He dropped down into it, stretching his arms out, hoping—praying—that you'd sit next to him. It was still cold, and having you close would have been perfect.

"Come on," he called, patting the empty spot next to him. "I saved you a seat."

You rolled your eyes, shrugging off your coat and getting rid of the snow stuck in your hair. "How generous."

"Hey, I don't offer my couch space to just anyone," he replied with a wink. "Consider yourself special."

You shook your head, laughing softly as you made your way toward him. But just as you were about to sit down, you noticed Matt struggling to carry a mountain of bags. One of the suitcases slipped from his grasp, and without thinking, you stepped over to help him, bending down to pick it up.

"Thanks, man," Matt said with a sheepish grin, adjusting the rest of the bags. "I swear, Emily packed like we're staying for a month."

You chuckled, handing him the suitcase. "No problem. Need any more help?"

"Nah, I think I've got it now," Matt replied. "But I appreciate it. How was the drive up here?" Matt asked, shifting one of the bags in his arms. "Did you come up with anyone?”

"Nah, I came up solo," you replied, shrugging. "It was a nice drive though, peaceful"

"Yeah, I get that. I bet it's nice to have some quiet," Matt said, nodding in agreement. "Emily barely let me get a word in the whole ride. Nonstop talking."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Sounds like a nightmare."

The two of you exchanged a few more words, just casual small talk. Mike' eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange, his jaw tightening. You were talking to Matt, laughing with him, and it bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

The way you smiled at him and the way Matt's eyes lingered on you made Mike's blood boil.

He sat back on the couch, his arms spread out across the cushions, his body language as casual as he could manage.

His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest, the cold air from outside still lingering in the room, but the warmth of the fire did little to chase away the chill in Mike's mood. He wanted to be near you. Hell, he wanted you sitting next to him right now, your body close to his. The couch had more than enough room, and he'd made sure to stretch out, hoping you'd notice and join him. But instead you kept chatting up with Matt.

It wasn't fair. How could you not see what was happening? How could you not see how much it bothered him? How much did he wanted you? He had spent the whole walk up to the lodge teasing and flirting, practically laying his feelings bare, and yet you were there, caught up in conversation and acting the same way you did with him.

Matt's hand lingered just a little too long as he reached out to take the suitcase back from you and Mike's fingers curled into fists, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his cool.

"So, are you thinking about moving soon?" Matt asked, setting the bags down all together in a spot. "Or are you staying put for a while?"

"I've been thinking about it," you said, nodding. "It'd be nice to have a little more space, you know?"

Mike's grip on the couch tightened, his knuckles turning white. Moving? Why hadn't you mentioned that to him? And why the hell were you telling Matt about it?

Matt smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I get that. More space is always nice. Have you thought about getting a roommate?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Maybe, but for now, I'm good with my own space."

Mike's stomach churned at that. Good with your own space? He had been thinking about how to get closer to you, how to spend more time with you, and you were chatting with Matt about moving and staying solo.

Just as Mike was about to get up and interrupt the conversation, the door swung open, and Emily stormed in, her eyes zeroing in on you and Matt.

"Didn't take you long to start flirting" Emily sneered, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached you and Matt.

Matt looked bewildered, the expression in his face telling you that he knew something you had no clue of. "Emily, it's not like that-"

"Right in front of me? Really, Matt? And with him?" She jabbed a finger in your direction.

You blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Emily's eyes blazed with fury as she took another step closer, her voice rising. "Don't play innocent. You think I didn't notice?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion as your brain tried to make sense of her words. "What?"

"You heard me," Emily snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes cold and accusatory. "I arrive a bit late and you're already cozying up to him. You couldn't wait, could you? You can't stand to see me with anyone, can you?"

Matt tried to intervene, raising his hands defensively. "Em, come on. He's just helping me out-"

"Stay out of it, Matt," Emily snapped, not even bothering to look at him. "This is between me and him."

"Me?" You were taken aback, genuinely baffled by her sudden hostility. "I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. You're so innocent. Always playing the victim, pretending like you don't know what's going on."

Everyone was watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of tension and discomfort. Jessica, sitting by the fireplace, leaned forward slightly, her brows raised in interest. She exchanged a glance with Ashley, who was seated on the arm of the couch beside Chris. Both of them looked uneasy, but there was a flicker of recognition in their eyes. It was as if they knew something had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while, and now it was finally spilling over.

Sam has been sitting near the fireplace, quietly observing, her usual calm demeanor now tinged with a hint of concern. She was the one who had always noticed things others didn't. She has seen the looks Mike had given you, those quick glances that lingered a little too long, the way his whole body seemed to shift when you entered a room.

"You always had to have everything, didn't you?" Emily continued, stepping closer until she was practically in your face. "It wasn't enough that you had to get Mike wrapped around your finger, now you're going after Matt too?"

"Emily, that's not what's happening," you protested, trying to maintain your calm despite the rising tension.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed, jabbing a finger into your chest, her voice cracked slightly, though her bitterness held strong. "God, you probably loved every second of it, didn't you? Just waiting for me to get out of the way so you could swoop in. It's pathetic."

Was she even talking about Matt at this point?

You opened your mouth to respond, but the venom in her words made it hard to get a word in. Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was as if all of her insecurities, all of her anger and hurt, were being poured out in this moment, directed squarely at you.

"I never tried to get between you and Mike."

"Oh, right, because it's totally normal for you to be all buddy-buddy with my boyfriend—"

"Ex-boyfriend," you corrected, your tone sharp now.

"Don't get smart with me. You might fool everyone else, but I know what's going on."

"You really want to know why i think Mike left you?" you asked, finally meeting her gaze. She wasn’t the only one with the privilege to say her thoughts. "It wasn't because of me. It was because you couldn't stop being a controlling, manipulative—"

"Watch it," Emily warned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her finger jabbed into your chest again, harder this time.

Josh stepped forward, his voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. "Alright, alright, can we all just take it down a notch?" he said, his usual easy-going grin plastered on his face, but there was an edge to his voice. "This is not why we came here. This is not... helping. If we can’t get along for 10 minutes then we need a little bit of a break, right?"

Emily shot him a glare but didn't argue.

"Mike," Josh said, turning his attention to the brooding figure standing silently by the couch. "Why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about."

Mike, still seething, nodded stiffly. "Yeah. Sure."

But before he left, he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him. "Come on," he muttered, his voice low and tense. "Let's go.””

The grip he had on your arm was firm, almost too tight. He seemed angry, and you could feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him as he pulled you out of the lodge.

The cold air hit your face immediately. The heavy wooden door creaked behind you as it closed, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, feeling the chill set in. You glanced over at Mike, expecting some kind of lighthearted comment regarding what has happened. He remained silent however, his jaw tight as he walked ahead of you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket.

You sped up slightly to catch up to him, your breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, thanks again for stepping in back there," you said, hoping to ease the awkwardness that had settled between you. "I thought she was gonna tear my head off."

Mike barely glanced your way, his eyes fixed on the snow-covered path ahead. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice flat. "No problem."

The curt response caught you off guard.

"Come on," you tried again, forcing a chuckle. "It's not every day someone gets accused of breaking up a relationship they weren't even part of. I should be charging for that kind of drama."

Mike let out a short, humorless laugh, but it felt forced, and he didn't even look at you.

You watched him carefully as he walked ahead of you, his shoulders tense, his stride a little more aggressive than usual as his boots crunched heavily through the snow.

"Okay, seriously," you said, picking up your pace again to keep up with him. "What's going on with you?

Mike didn't respond immediately, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he pressed on, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

"You're not secretly plotting revenge on Emily, are you? Because I'm not sure I'm up for a 'Revenge of the Ex' scenario tonight. My ears would bleed if I have to hear her whine again"

Mike's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't say a word, his eyes locked straight ahead. It was like you weren't even there, and the silence between you was becoming suffocating.

You let out a frustrated sigh, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to ward off the cold. "You know, this silent treatment thing? Not your best look. Seriously, you're acting like I kicked your puppy or something."

Still, nothing. Mike's footsteps crunched against the snow as he moved toward the metal gate blocking the path ahead, his movements jerky and impatient. Mike tugged on the latch, trying to force it open, but the gate stayed stubbornly in place.

"No power," you reminded him, trying to keep your voice light. "The generator should be nearby by"

With a growl of frustration, Mike yanked on the gate harder, the metal clanking loudly in the quiet night. He muttered something under his breath, clearly losing patience as he tried again, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cold metal.

"Goddammit," he cursed under his breath, giving the gate one more angry shove, but it didn't budge. The clang echoed through the trees, and he stepped back, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to rein in his temper.

You blinked, watching him in stunned silence for a moment. "Mike," you said cautiously, stepping toward him. "What's going on?“

Mike didn't turn to face you immediately. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Bullshit," you shot back, crossing your arms. "You're not fine. You've barely said two words to me, and now you're trying to rip a gate off its hinges. Come on. Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Mike finally looked up at you then, but the look in his eyes wasn't what you were expecting. Mike's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling over as he finally spoke, his voice rougher than intended. "Do you even know what Emily was talking about?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and Mike hated the uncertainty that flashed across your face. He should have said something sooner.

"God, you really don't see it, do you?" He stopped pacing, standing still in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've had a thing for you for... I don't even know how long. But I never said anything because I thought maybe I could push it down. If I ignored it long enough, i thought it'd go away."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but he continued talking and gave you no time to respond. "But it never did. And then seeing you with Matt, it just... it fucking killed me, okay?"

"Mike..." you began, but he cut you off, stepping closer, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm tired of pretending," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to hide it anymore.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air. You had never expected that Mike, of all people, had been harboring these kinds of feelings for you.

He backed you up until your back hit a tree behind you, the rough bark cold against your jacket, his hands gripping your shoulders as his body pressed against yours. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he growled, his breath hot against your lips.

His lips crashed against yours in a heated, desperate kiss. The force of it caught you off guard, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

He pinned you against the tree, his larger frame hovering over yours as his tongue pushed past your lips. Your legs parted instinctively, allowing him to settle between them.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, the fabric of his jeans doing little to hide how hard he was for you.

Your soft moans only spurred him on, the sound sending a rush of heat through his veins. Mike's lips moved from your neck to your collarbone, then lower still, trailing a line of kisses down your chest as his hands slid beneath your shirt.

"How long?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths. "How long have you had a thing for me?"

Mike groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His voice was rough, almost guttural, as he admitted, "Too fucking long." His fingers dug into your hips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with sincerity. "I didn't know... I didn't see it."

You had been oblivious to all of this. The guilt gnawed at you, and you felt the need to make it right, to show Mike just how much you regretted not noticing, not acting sooner.

Your hands moved down his body, fingers sliding under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. Mike inhaled sharply at your touch, his breath catching as you began to undo the button on his jeans.

He looked down at you, confusion flickering in his eyes for a moment as you knelt in front of him. The snow beneath you crunched satisfyingly with your movements. "What are you doing?" His voice was low, unsure but curious.

You glanced up at him, your hands deftly working on his jeans, a shy yet mischievous grin forming on your lips. "I need to show you just how sorry I am," you whispered.

Mike's breath hitched at your words, and he bit his lip as you pulled his jeans down just enough to free him, your hand wrapping around him firmly. He groaned, the sound deep and needy, as his head tilted back slightly, his grip on the tree tightening as he watched you.

You stroked him slowly at first, your movements deliberate, watching the way his hips bucked slightly toward you.

"Fuck" Mike breathed out as he felt your lips brush the tip of him, teasing him just enough to make him curse under his breath. His hand moved to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control.

When you finally took him fully into your mouth, Mike let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively thrusting forward. The heat, the wetness of your mouth, it was overwhelming. Every time you moved, it sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, and the sight of you on your knees for him, your mouth wrapped around him, made something snap inside him.

He couldn't stop himself from moving his hips, thrusting deeper into your mouth, each motion filled with desperation and need. His voice was low, almost growling as he murmured your name between pants, barely able to keep himself in check.

"God, you feel so good," Mike groaned, his eyes locked onto you as his hips moved in sync with your rhythm.

Your tongue swirled around him, sending shivers up his spine, and Mike couldn't think straight anymore.

Just before he could reach the edge, he pulled you back up, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. He wasn't ready to let go just yet. Not when he still had so much more to give you.

His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as he once again pressed you against the tree. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hard lines of his muscles as he held you up and settled between your legs again.

Mike's hands were everywhere, sliding under your jacket, under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. His teeth grazed your neck as he sucked a mark into the tender flesh there. His fingers moved to your belt, undoing it with a quick flick of his hand.

His breath hitched as he pulled your pants down just enough for your ass to be exposed, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver.

His hand slid down between your legs, his fingers brushing against your entrance, teasing you with the lightest of touches.

He kissed you again, rough and urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers slowly began to prep you. He was careful, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He took his time, letting his fingers slide in gently, one at first, then two, stretching you carefully as his other hand gripped your waist to hold you steady.

He kissed you harder, his tongue moving in sync with the rhythm of his fingers as he continued to work you open.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're going to feel so good around me."

He stretched you further, his fingers moving faster now, more deliberately. His heart was pounding in his chest, his own arousal pressing hard against his jeans.

His fingers curled inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch against him.

Your moans were the only answer he needed and Mike knew you were as ready as he was. He pulled his fingers out slowly, the absence making you whimper, but before you could protest, Mike was already undoing his own jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he held you steady.

"Tell me you want this," Mike growled, his voice low and dangerous as he looked into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you gasped, your voice breathless and desperate as you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I need you... please."

That was all he needed to hear. With a low groan, Mike pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching you in a way that made you gasp. The tightness around him was almost too much, the heat and pressure overwhelming, but it felt perfect.

"Fuck," Mike grunted as he buried himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He could feel every inch of you, the way your muscles clenched around him.

For a moment, he didn't move, just savoring the feeling, the way you fit him so perfectly. His forehead rested against yours, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath.

"You feel so fucking good," Mike groaned, his hands sliding up your back, holding you tight against him as he finally began to move.

You moaned his name softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, and it only made Mike more desperate. His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with more force now, driving deeper into you with every thrust.

Mike's hands roamed your body, gripping your ass, your thighs, anything he could hold onto as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

His voice barely audible as he kissed you hard, his teeth grazing your lower lip as his thrusts became more frantic, more desperate.

He slammed into you harder now, his hands gripping your hips to pull you down onto him as he thrust up, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

Mike could feel his own release building, the pressure becoming almost unbearable as he thrust into you with reckless abandon. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he could feel the way your body was trembling, the way you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

"I'm gonna-" Mike's voice broke off into a low groan as the pleasure overwhelmed him, his body tensing as he came hard, his release spilling inside you. His hips jerked forward, his thrusts becoming erratic as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

Both you and Mike found yourselves leaning against the tree, your bodies still pressed close, the cold air doing little to calm the heat that lingered between you. Mike's chest heaved with deep breaths, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. His arms still held you securely.

Mike's fingers gently trailed down your back. He gave a low, satisfied hum, his lips grazing your temple as he pressed a soft kiss there.

"I wasn't expecting that kind of apology," Mike murmured, his voice still rough and low, the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "But damn... I could get used to it."

You let out a breathy laugh, still a little dazed and breathless yourself. "Well... I owe you after all this time."

Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours in a lazy kiss before he finally pulled back, his eyes flicking toward the direction of the lodge. He ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head slightly in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

"We should probably get to that cabinet," he said, though his voice carried an unmistakable teasing edge.

His hands still hadn't fully left your waist, and you could tell that he wasn't quite ready to let you go. There was a playful glint in his eyes now.

"Yeah, we should," you agreed, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. "I could use a break from the cold."

Mike grinned, finally letting his hands drift from your waist as he helped you adjust your clothes and brushing off the snow that had clung to your clothes. His touch was gentle now, though the way his fingers lingered on your skin as he fixed your jacket told you that his thoughts were far from innocent.

"But you know..." his voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that you were becoming all too familiar with. "I'm not sure one apology is enough. I might need a few more of those. Just to make sure you're really sorry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Monroe?"

Mike leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Maybe I'll show you when we get to that cabinet. It's nice and private... perfect for a few more 'apologies’."

Mike pulled back slightly, that smirk never leaving his face as he took your hand, leading you back toward the path.

The night had only just begun, and with Mike by your side, it was clear that this was just the start of something much, much deeper.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: The night at the lodge was supposed to be all harmless fun until Chris made you a deal: if he helped you get closer to Mike, you'd owe him big. You laughed it off, certain he was just joking like always. But soon enough, you'd realize Chris was dead serious and the stakes had never felt more real.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Takes place an hour before the event of the prologue. Mike and Emily/Jess are not together in this. Make out session. No use of Y/N. Chris being an amazing wingman. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex. Reader being called ‘ a good boy’

Words count: 6000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

You stared out the window, entranced by the snow-covered landscape stretching beyond the glass. The mountain peaks towered in the distance, face softened by thick blankets of snow. Snowflakes danced in the wind, tumbling and swirling, like something out of a dream.

A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. "Pretty amazing view, right?"

You turned, finding Sam standing beside you, her hazel eyes bright and clear as she looked out at the scene you'd been admiring. Her breath fogged up the glass slightly as she leaned forward, folding her arms and gazing outside.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s like we're in some sort of snow globe, you know?"

Sam laughed softly, nodding. "I know. I've been here before, but somehow, every time I come back, it still takes my breath away."

You smiled, watching her for a moment before shifting your gaze back to the view. You felt a sense of quiet contentment that was rare. But it didn't last long, as Sam looped her arm through yours with a grin.

"Alright, enough of the peaceful vibes," she said, giving you a playful nudge. "We'll have plenty of time to be zen later. Everyone's downstairs, and I think we're missing out on some very important chaos"

You laughed as she started tugging you along. "I don't have much of a choice, right?"

"Exactly," she quipped, grinning as she guided you through the hallway and down the grand staircase. The lodge's wooden steps creaked underfoot.

Sam kept a steady grip on your arm, steering you through the open archway that led to the main living area.

You glanced around, taking in the scene. In one corner, Jess and Emily were huddled together, whispering intently, heads close and voices low. Jess was laughing at something Emily had just said.

To your right, the guys were clustered around the TV, where a football game was playing on the massive flat screen. Josh was perched on the arm of the couch, gesturing animatedly at the screen as if the players could hear his advice. Matt sat beside him, his focus glued to the game, nodding along and shouting at the TV whenever a play went wrong. And there, beside Matt, was Mike leaning back casually, but his eyes seemed distant, as though he was watching something beyond the screen.

You blinked as you realized that he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze caught you off guard, and for a second, your stomach did a strange little flip. Mike's expression was unreadable as he watched you and Sam together. Then, as if realizing he'd been caught, he quickly turned back to the game, jaw clenching slightly as he forced a laugh at something Matt said.

Sam didn't seem to notice any of this. Instead, she led you over to the large wooden table where Chris was lounging, a mug of hot cocoa in hand and browsing through his phone

"Look who finally decided to join the rest of us. Thought maybe you'd wandered off to commune with nature or something." he drawled, setting down his phone with a theatrical sigh.

Sam rolled her eyes but chuckled. "Some people appreciate the beauty of nature, Chris. Not everyone's glued to their phone."

"Hey, I appreciate the great outdoors as much as the next guy. With Wi-Fi and a lot fewer bears, of course."

You laughed, settling in beside Sam "Some people enjoy a bit of peace and quiet now and then."

"I'm all for peace and quiet, just not when there are opportunities for... other kinds of excitement."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit wary. “What do you mean?”

"You know... like maybe getting cozy with a certain someone?" He leaned in, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "This could be your big chance, man."

You could feel your cheeks heating up, and you quickly glanced away, mumbling, "Chris, come on”

Chris laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. "I'm just saying, if there were ever a time to make a move, this is it. Perfect opportunity!"

"Chris!" Sam interjected, laughing as she gently swatted him on the arm. "Cut it out! He doesn't need you trying to play matchmaker."

Chris feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his heart. "Sam, come on. I'm just trying to help our boy here! All you gotta do is put on some charm, maybe play it a little cool, and bam, he's yours."

"Like you're one to talk," Sam said, jumping in. "You've been making heart eyes at Ashley for all this time. How's that working out for you, Chris?"

Chris groaned, dramatically admitting defeat. "Okay, touché. But hey, tell you what, if I help you get close to Mike, you owe me a favor, or a solid friendship payback, something. Deal?"

You chuckled, waving him off. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Chris" You didn't think he was serious, but it was hard not to laugh at his enthusiasm. You knew Chris well enough to know he was just having a bit of fun.

"Good," Chris said, giving you a mock-salute. "Now that's settled, I'll be expecting my reward once you and Mike are official"

"Official?" You snorted, leaning back in your seat. "I'm pretty sure we're a long way from that"

"Not if you listen to your wingman here," he said, winking. "I know all the right moves."

"Right," Sam interjected with a grin. "Just like you know all the moves to win Ashley over?"

Chris held up his hands, chuckling. "I can be persuasive."

Sam shook her head, laughing softly. She leaned in, giving you an encouraging smile. "Look, don't listen to him. Just be yourself, and if it's meant to happen, it will. And don't let him pressure you into anything."

"Thank you, Sam," you replied, grateful for her grounded advice.

The game wrapped up, the room buzzed with chatter and laughter. Josh turned off the TV and everyone gravitated toward the couches in the living room, drawn together by the warmth of the fireplace and the cozy ambiance of the lodge. The couches were a bit crowded, and as people started finding seats, you hovered near the edge, ready to grab a stool from the table to give everyone more room.

"Hey!" Mike's voice made you turn back. "There's room here." He gestured to the narrow space beside him, barely wide enough for one person.

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warm as you registered what he was offering. It wasn't much room. Actually, it was hardly any room at all. But he was looking at you expectantly, his gaze unwavering, and you found yourself nodding, unable to turn down the chance.

You made your way over, careful to keep your composure even as your heart raced. Sliding into the narrow space, you were acutely aware of his shoulder pressing warmly against yours, his knee brushing against your leg.

The chatter picked up around you, Jessica was animatedly recounting a wild story from a previous trip, her hands gesturing wildly, drawing laughs from Sam and Emily. Matt listened with an amused grin as she continued her exaggerated retelling. Chris and Ashley sat on the floor near the fireplace talking with Josh, their shoulders bumping every so often, and every time, Ashley's cheeks would flush a faint pink.

"You look nervous," Mike whispered, his breath brushing close to your ear, low enough that only you could hear. "Am I making you uncomfortable? Don't worry, I don't bite... much"

You swallowed, glancing sideways at him. His face was close, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips as he watched you. "No, I'm fine," you managed to reply, trying to sound casual despite how fast your heart was beating. "It's just a bit of a tight squeeze."

He chuckled softly, eyes glinting. "Yeah, real tight. Guess you're just gonna have to get cozy with me."

You felt your face flush, and he seemed to catch it, his grin widening just a little. The conversation around you flowed on but you felt as though there was this separate, quieter bubble with just you and Mike.

Casually, he stretched his arm out along the back of the couch and his arm soon dropped gently onto your shoulder, his fingers grazing the fabric of your sweater. His hand large and warm where it rested.

The others were talking, lost in discussion about various topics but you were barely able to focus on a single word.

You could feel Mike's eyes on you, and when you dared to glance his way, you found him watching you with a quiet intensity, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face, his gaze lingering a bit too long, savoring the sight of you flustered beside him. The flicker of firelight danced in his eyes, giving them a soft, molten glow.

You two were, like, five seconds away from sitting on each other's laps and if you wanted to, he wouldn't mind at all.

He looked away then, his fingers tapping lightly on your arm as he settled back, his focus shifting to the others' conversation, smiling at something Jess was said.

"So there I was," Jess said, leaning forward, "freshman year, completely new at school, trying to look cute in gym class which, by the way, is nearly impossible with the whole sweats and sneakers thing." She rolled her eyes, earning chuckles from the group. "And we're playing dodgeball. I'm just minding my own business doing some selfies, when BAM!" She smacked her hands together, emphasizing the impact. "This guy drills me in the face with the ball. I literally hit the ground in front of the entire class."

The room erupted with laughter, Chris practically doubling over as he clutched his stomach.

"Okay, okay," Matt said, wiping a tear from his eye after the laughter had died down. "I've got one, but no judging."

"We're all friends here, Matt," Chris teased, leaning forward with mock seriousness. "Of course we’re gonna do it."

Matt launched into a story about a school dance gone wrong. Something about spilling punch on his crush's dress and then slipping in it while trying to apologize. The group listened, laughing and wincing as he described the mortifying details.

Just as Matt's story ended, Josh turned his attention to Mike, "What about you? Surely you've got some embarrassing memory tucked away."

Mike chuckled, feigning reluctance but clearly enjoying the attention. "You guys want a story? Here's one. My first kiss was not exactly smooth."

The room perked up, everyone leaning in a little closer.

"Alright, alright. So... freshman year. I was at this house party. You know, feeling like a big deal and all that." He leaned forward, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "I'm wearing way too much cologne because, apparently, I thought that was how you got someone's attention. And, yeah, I was nervous."

The group chuckled, and you found yourself smiling as you imagined a younger, less self-assured Mike.

"It was one of those moments, you know? I'm thinking, 'This is it, man’ So, finally, I'm like, okay, I'm going in for the kiss." He paused for dramatic effect.

"And I close my eyes... maybe a little too soon. So, I lean in, full of confidence, but instead of a pair lips, I end up kissing a forehead, like I was giving a blessing or something," he said, laughing as he reenacted the awkward gesture, his face breaking into a grimace.

The room burst into laughter, everyone's amusement only fueling Mike's smile.

Emily grinned, tapping her chin to appear deep in thought. "You know, that sounds like it needs a redo."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his face a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying," Emily continued, her tone playful and a little too serious, "you need a chance to redeem yourself. Your reputation is on the line here, Mike.

"Oh, come on, Michael," Jess teased, winking at Emily. "Emily's just trying to help you out."

Emily crossed her arms, pretending to look offended. "If you're as smooth as you think you are, this should be easy."

Chris voice soon stole the attention of everyone, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked at you. “Why don’t you step in and be a good homie? Make this unique for him without hurting the girls’ feelings here. It’s just a way to help a buddy out.”

Heat flooded your face, and you looked at Chris with a mixture of disbelief and horror, silently cursing him for putting you on the spot. He had an exaggerated, almost innocent smile, like he hadn't just thrown you into the spotlight. You could feel the group's attention shift, everyone's curiosity piqued as they picked up on Chris's not-so-subtle suggestion.

Your heart started to race, your mind suddenly split in trying to figure out what to do.

Accept the proposal. Embrace the challenge, let the thrill ignite something between you two, regardless of the potential consequences. It could solidify your feelings and perhaps satisfy your infatuation, or throw your friendship with others into chaos.

Refuse. Protect yourself from vulnerability, avoid complicating things with Mike, and maintain a semblance of control over the situation. It’s safe, but it might leave you wondering what could have been.

You take a deep breath, weighing the options. You looked over at Mike from the corner of your eyes and to your surprise, he didn't seem phased or disgusted at all. In fact, he looked intrigued. Maybe even a bit too eager. He shifted closer, his gaze steady as he looked at you, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Accept the proposal

A faint shimmer seemed to ripple across the room, a barely perceptible wave that was more felt than seen, like the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings resonating outwards, echoing into something larger, something unknown.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"I’ve got no problem," you said, your voice quieter than you'd intended, a slight tremor betraying the excitement that was coursing through you. Your pulse quickened as you realized how real this was about to become. "But no promises on-"

Before you could finish, Mike's hand was on your face, his fingers warm and steady against your skin as he gently but firmly guided you to face him. His touch was confident, the kind of touch that held no hesitation, no doubt. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of excitement in his eyes, a spark that catches you off guard.

His touch was warm, grounding, and you barely had time to brace yourself before his lips met yours.

The kiss started soft, a gentle pressure that deepened soon, his lips parting slightly as he tilted your head, his hand steadying you.

His arm around your shoulder tightened, drawing you in closer and enveloping you in the warmth of his solid frame, effectively caging you against him. Backing away was no longer an option.

The room around you erupted in shouts and cheers, but they felt like background noise to the consuming connection between you and Mike.

You could feel his restraint slipping, his eagerness intensifying. His lips moved with a hunger that was unmistakable, his hand slipping down to your shoulder, fingers pressing into your skin as if to anchor himself.

You felt his tongue slip forward, grazing against yours, a bold, unrestrained movement that took your breath away. His breath mingled with yours as his tongue explored, tracing along your teeth and slipping eagerly into every corner of your mouth. His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he angled you closer, the kiss growing deeper, more intense.

Emily sat back, her expression carefully controlled, her usual sharp confidence dimming as she watched you and Mike. There was a bitterness in her eyes that she tried to hide behind a forced smile, her gaze dropping as if she couldn't bear to watch.

Sam glanced away from the intensity of the moment, a soft smile spreading across her face as she took in your bliss. She was genuinely happy for you, watching you live out what could only be described as a dream for anyone with their crush. But as her gaze drifted to Hannah, her expression shifted.

She gave Chris a quick punch on the arm, muttering, "Nice going, cupid," as she shot a concerned glance toward Hannah who was looking down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Chris, realizing what he'd inadvertently stirred up, shifted uncomfortably, murmuring an apology under his breath.

"I swear I thought it'd just be, like, a quick smooch or something. Didn't expect him to... you know, go all in."

You could feel your friends laughing together, their voices blending with the loud beating of your heart reverberating in your ears, all of them no longer paying attention to you and Mike.

Mike's mouth was still on yours, his lips pressing insistently along with the soft cradle of his hand on the back of your head as he leaned in even closer, his thumb brushing gently along your jawline, a soft, almost tender gesture that contrasted with the intensity of his kiss.

When he finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, he didn't move far. His arm remained on your shoulder, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as his gaze lingered on your face. His pupils wide and there was a spark of satisfaction in the small, lopsided grin that curved his lips. He looked as though he'd just accomplished something he'd wanted for a long time, and his hand remained at your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek, leaving you with the realization that maybe Mike felt the same way.

He winked at you, his grin widening as he took in the sight of your flushed face, pleased with the effect he'd had on you.

The warmth of the lodge felt almost suffocating after this. Your heart was pounding, your skin tingling, and you could feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireplace. So, when everyone got up to see who could withstand more booze between Josh and Chris, you slipped away from the group, sneaking outside to steady yourself.

Sitting alone outside in the snow, you tilted your head back and exhaled, your breath clouding the air around you in soft, fleeting puffs. The chill from the ground seeped through your clothes, but you barely noticed, too lost in the replay of the kiss that had unfolded with Mike earlier. A quiet smile lingered on your lips, but it was starting to ache from how long it had stayed there. You touched your face, almost laughing at how ridiculous it felt to be so swept up by a single kiss.

The silence was broken by a distant, eerie sound. A chilling, guttural scream that seemed to echo through the snowy trees, too animalistic to be human and too distorted to be familiar. You suddenly became aware of just how isolated you were out here. With one last look around, you decided it was best to head back inside.

Chris and Josh were sprawled across the two couches, completely knocked out. Josh's arm hung limply over the edge, while Chris had somehow managed to slump halfway down the couch, his head hanging back and a gentle snore escaping his lips.

You walked over, chuckling softly as you took in the sight. Chris's face was adorned with various drawings, courtesy of your mature friends. He had a mustache, glasses, and something vaguely resembling a pirate's eye patch.

You leaned in, whispering to him, "I'll make it up to you somehow." Не mumbled something incomprehensible in response, but it only made you smile, glad he was there, even in his alcohol-induced stupor.

As you straightened, your gaze drifted to the table nearby, where a crumpled piece of paper lay. Intrigued, you reached for it, noticing that it had been folded and unfolded multiple times. It wasn't long before you recognized Jessica's handwriting, her signature dramatic flourish over every "i" and "j". Curiosity piqued, you smoothed it out and began reading.

They intended to lure Hannah into thinking Mike was genuinely interested in her, playing on her obvious crush. An idea likely planted by Emily, who you knew was never above using a little underhandedness to get what she wanted, especially if it meant eliminating any ‘competition’ for Mike's attention

Hannah had been Mike's quiet admirer for as long as anyone could remember, and she likely saw you as competition, someone who was slowly claiming the attention she'd always dreamed of having for herself.

And the the kiss you had with Mike happened. Raw, real, with an intensity you hadn't felt before. The memory alone was enough to make your heart race, but now it was tinted with a complicated swirl of guilt and conflict.

You folded the paper and placed it back on the table, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Taking a steadying breath, you climbed the stairs, your heart a chaotic mix of emotions. Maybe you were in time to see what they were up to and stop this stupid idea but, as you reached the landing, you saw Hannah standing in the hallway, looking more vulnerable than ever.

She had changed into a new outfit, this should have been the shirt mentioned on the paper. Her makeup was carefully applied and she'd styled her hair, giving her an air of confidence that seemed fragile beneath the surface. She was trying to be someone else tonight, someone she thought Mike might finally notice.

She greeted you, her voice soft, almost shy. Ber hands fidgeting slightly as she shifted her weight. "Have you, um, seen Mike around anywhere?"

Her question hit you like a blow, and suddenly, everything froze.

Tell her the truth. Take the burden upon yourself, spare her from the cruel joke waiting for her. Show compassion, empathy, knowing it would devastate her to hear that her crush was being used against her. It was the honorable path. But in doing so, you risk losing any chance you had with Mike, knowing she might find some way to make him notice her, knowing she would keep clinging to her hope.

Tell her where Mike could be. Give her the small push that would send her toward the prank, and maybe—just maybe— she'd realize he wasn't hers to pursue. She'd see the truth of the situation, feel the sting of betrayal, and let go of the dream she held onto so tightly. It would be a selfish choice, driven by a desire to keep what you'd found with Mike, however brief, however new it was.

You looked at her, feeling your heart clench. Hannah's eyes held a faint glimmer of smugness, a subtle look that told you she saw you as her rival, someone she'd managed to one-up. There was a quiet triumph in her gaze, like she knew she'd taken a step ahead in this unspoken competition, and it stirred something in you. An ache of jealousy, resentment, a desperation to hold onto that kiss you'd shared with Mike, the feeling of his hand on your face, his gaze steady and unguarded.

The kiss was still fresh in your memory, vivid and electric. His lips on yours, the look in his eyes when he'd pulled back, the way he lingered, his hand resting on your jaw, his thumb brushing your skin. Those moments felt like yours alone. The thought of giving that up, of stepping aside, felt like a painful tearing inside.

It was that memory that tipped the scales, jealousy and desire mingling with fear and longing, stirring something selfish, something raw.

Tell her where Mike could be

You forced a small smile, doing your best to keep your voice calm. "I think he went upstairs. Maybe check one of the rooms?”

A faint shimmer flickered in your peripheral vision, like a ripple in the air, and a twinge of guilt tightened in your chest.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Hannah's eyes lit up, her face breaking into an excited smile, the look of triumph becoming even more pronounced as she nodded, glancing down the hallway with a sense of anticipation. "Thank you," she murmured as she turned, her steps quick and light, eager to reach the encounter she thought awaited her.

You watched her disappear down the hall, your heart sinking as a pang of guilt twisted inside you. The weight of what you'd done settled heavily, an ache that gnawed at your chest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

Turning away, you felt the need for air, for space, and made your way toward the balcony. The crisp night air hit you as you stepped outside, the chill biting into your skin, but it did little to shake the lingering weight of your decision. The view stretched before you, vast and beautiful, snow-covered trees casting dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky.

You leaned against the railing, closing your eyes, letting the cold seep into you, grounding yourself in the reality of everything that had happened tonight. The kiss replayed in your mind. You could still feel his touch, the press of his lips, the breathless thrill that had consumed you, making you forget the world around you.

You had let jealousy and insecurity guide you, and it left you feeling hollow, a gnawing ache spreading in your chest as you replayed the moment you'd told Hannah where to find him.

You'd let her walk into a setup, into a trap that would humiliate her, and as much as you wanted Mike to yourself, as much as you craved the connection you'd felt with him, the choice you'd made felt cold, cruel.

So much time passed, snowflakes started to accumulate on your hair and clothes and you were still lost in thought when the soft creak of footsteps on the wooden deck broke the silence, pulling you back to the present. Turning, you were surprised to see Mike stepping out onto the balcony.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"There you are," he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I was looking for you."

A pang of relief washed over you at seeing him, even as the guilt returned with a renewed intensity. You managed a small smile, trying to push away the conflict twisting in your chest. "Hey," you replied, watching him as he closed the distance between you.

Mike offered you a small, teasing smile, the familiar cocky grin that you'd come to love. "I've got something a little important to talk about with you."

You looked up, meeting his gaze, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way his eyes held a playful glint. He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "You know, that little thing that happened between us a few minutes ago... I think we left it unfinished."

You could feel again your heartbeat drumming in your ears, and a small smile tugged at your lips. "Is that so?" you replied, feeling a spark of excitement rekindle.

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, softer tone as he leaned even closer. "I think we might have a few things to clear up about us." His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, as he added with a hint of playful challenge, "Unless, of course, you're gonna tell me that was just a favor, and you don't feel the same way."

The question hung between you, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart pound. You took a steadying breath, feeling the familiar thrill of his presence, the way he seemed to pull you in effortlessly. "I... I think you know what it meant for me, Mike."

"I dunno... you seemed kinda thrown off after. Made me think maybe I did something wrong."

Your cheeks heated, and you tried to roll your eyes, but it came off as more of a nervous laugh. "Yeah, sure, like you ever doubt yourself."

"Hey," he said, pretending to look wounded, though the grin never left his face. "I have doubts. I mean, how else am I supposed to know if I've got a shot?"

He grinned, his hand moving to grasp your waist, "So, tell me," he said, his voice husky and barely audible. "Did I live up to your expectations?"

"Expectations?" you echoed.

"Yeah, you know," he said, his hand squeezing gently. "A kiss is kind of a big deal, right? Wouldn't want you to feel like you got short-changed."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face. "I don't have any complaints," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's eyes lit up, that cocky grin widening as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous murmur. "See, I was hoping for more than just 'no complaints’," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want you wanting more and more... until you're practically counting down the seconds to get another chance with me." He tilted his head, his gaze flickering to your lips for a heartbeat before meeting your eyes again, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The words sent a thrill racing through you, leaving your heart pounding as he inched even closer. His confidence was magnetic, and you could feel yourself drawn to it, the space between you almost electric.

Mike leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek. He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, searching your expression as if looking for any hint of hesitation, but when you didn't pull away, he took his chance.

His lips met yours with a slow, deliberate pressure. His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, his other hand lifting to cradle your jaw, his fingers gentle but firm as he deepened the kiss, savoring every moment, every small reaction.

His mouth moved against yours with a quiet, unhurried intensity. His breath was warm, and the faint scent of cologne lingered, mixing with the crispness of the winter air.

He pulled back slightly, his face hovering inches from yours, his breath coming in soft, uneven puffs as he watched you. His eyes held a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that made your heart race.

"Let's go somewhere a little more private." He murmured, his voice low and rough as he glanced back toward the lodge.

You felt a thrill shoot through you, and you nodded, letting him guide you back inside. His hand stayed at your waist as he led you through the hallway, past the sleeping forms of Chris and Josh downstairs, until you reached the room he usually took when staying at the lodge.

He paused just outside the door, glancing back at you with a hint of hesitation. "Are you alright with this?" he asked, his voice softer now, vulnerable.

In response, you stepped forward, your hand reaching up to pull him into another fierce kiss, pressing him against the wall, your lips moving urgently against his. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him, and he let out a soft, pleased sound as he responded with equal intensity, his mouth meeting yours with renewed passion. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you felt him guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

You tumbled onto it, and he followed, his hands bracing him as he hovered over you, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours with hunger.

You couldn’t help but revel in the fact that Mike wants you. You’ve dreamed of this, fantasized about it for so long, yet the weight of your choices weighs heavily on your heart. The way Mike holds you makes you feel cherished, and you can’t help but savor every second.

How could something so beautiful feel so wrong?

You could feel the intoxicating warmth of his breath as he moved down near, his lips grazing your jawline and neck with tantalizing kisses. Each gentle bite ignited a wave of desire, making you ache for more as he savored every curve of your skin

With your silent permission, he lifted your shirt, his fingers trailing along your skin as he slipped it over your head. He took a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, down to your chest.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, as if he didn't want to rush this moment.

You felt his hands founding their way to your ass, cupping and squeezing it firmly. His kisses grew bolder, deeper, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

He leaned in, his lips close to your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "Been waiting for this... for us." his voice thick with emotion as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more.

Mike is here, right now, wanting you, and the idea of sharing him with anyone else feels unbearable. It’s selfish, you know, but the idea of being the one he craves makes you feel alive, even if it means stepping on someone else’s feelings.

His hands moved lower, unbuckling your belt and sliding your pants down, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as he pulled your pants off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

He moved down your body, his lips trailing a path of fire as he explored every inch of you.

As he moved lower, his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.

When his lips finally reached their destination, you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The sensation of his mouth on you was almost too much. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you arched up against him.

Mike's pace was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He took his time, drawing out every sensation, every moan, until you were trembling beneath him, your body taut with need.

When he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with evidence of his work, you were a mess of whimpers and gasps, your body aching for release. But Mike wasn't done with you yet. He moved back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss that made you dizzy with want.

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you try to form words. "I need you," you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your need. "Please, Mike."

"Give me a second" his voice husky and breathless as he got up from the bed with a soft grunt.

He leaned over and opened a drawer, his hand reaching out to open it. He rummaged for a moment before pulling out a bottle of lube.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice laced with lust as he looked at you, his grin widening at your obvious embarrassment.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze, your face burning as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure. "Y-yeah," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike chuckled softly, setting the bottle aside for a moment as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. "You're so fucking cute when you're shy" he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate.

He reached for the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

A pair of warm and calloused hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you.

His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection. He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure and when he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the weight of him grounding you.

He was so big.

He entered you slowly, the stretch and burn of him filling you completely, making you gasp as your fingers dug into his shoulders. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, as if he was unleashing emotions and desires kept in check for too long.

"You're so perfect for me" Mike whispered, his voice rough as he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, across your chest.

The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, the slick slide of skin against skin, the soft moans and gasps that escaped your lips as he drove into you, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate.

"Fuck, you feel so good! My good boy... only mine." Mike growled, his voice rough and possessive as he thrust harder, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, deeper.

You felt your body respond to his voice, to the way he claimed you with each movement, each touch. You clung to him, your hands clutching at his back as he drove you both higher, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best possible way.

You finally reached that peak together, your body trembling beneath him as you came, the pleasure washing over you in waves so intense that you could barely breathe.

Mike groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he followed you over the edge, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. His body shaking with the force of it and collapsing gently on top of you. He was heavy, but there were many other things to think about at the moment.

You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a mix of the lingering energy between you and the warmth of his body against yours. His chest pressed into yours as he leaned down, his breathing deep and even, and you noticed a light sheen of sweat tracing his brow

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his big and muscular biceps flexing unnecessarily, as though he couldn't resist showing off just a little bit.

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked at you. He leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, his voice still a little husky and a bit of that cocky charm you'd come to know so well.” Just so you know," he murmured, his words brushing against your ear, "I'm ready to make this official... to show you exactly what kind of boyfriend I can be." He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the words half-teasing, half-serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that told you he meant every word. "You're kinda stuck with me now. Think you can handle it?"

He wanted this, wanted you and every part of him was showing it, from the gentle hold he kept on your waist to the way his gaze held yours like he didn't want to let go.

"You're not getting away from me that easily," he murmured, his voice still laced with that familiar confidence, but there was something gentler there too, an honesty that left you feeling reassured, safe. "You're kinda stuck with me now. Think you can handle it?"

You laughed softly, the sound warm and light in the quiet room, and you felt his chest rumble in response as he laughed along with you, the two of you sharing a moment of unspoken understanding. "I think I can manage," you whispered back, squeezing his hand gently.

His grin softened into a smile, and he let his forehead rest against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the comfortable silence.

Note: I’m thinking of perhaps doing a part 2 of this, i feel like there is some potential. Maybe i could take a darker turn with it. Let me know if you would like it and if you have an idea of what could happen next. If you liked this please leave a comment, i love reading them <3

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Two broken souls find solace in each other's arms. Two strangers in a support group, both scarred by their own demons. What started as shared vulnerability ignited into an electric connection, a fierce bond where Mike's protective instincts soon led to a heated desire neither of them could deny.

Requested from a really nice person here on tumblr. Hope you like it and sorry if i went overboard with your request <3

Tags: post event of Until Dawn. Everyone survived or Mike solo survivor, whichever one you prefer. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Strangers to lovers. Scene of panic attack. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Riding. Anal sex.

Words count: 5000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The room was quiet, the chairs were arranged neatly, giving an artificial sense of order to a room filled with emotional chaos and instability. The support group had just begun and already the air felt thick with vulnerability.

Mike Munroe sat toward the back, slouched slightly in his chair as if he didn't want to be noticed. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, a nervous habit. He'd been to a few of these meetings now, always trying to blend in, hoping no one would ask too much of him. Sitting in this room surrounded by strangers, he was supposed to feel like he belonged, but he felt anything. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the circle, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who looked too open, too eager to share.

Then his eyes landed on you.

Sitting a few seats away, you were quiet, withdrawn. You didn't seem to be paying attention to the group as much as you were lost in your own thoughts. Mike watched you for a second longer than he should have, curiosity tugging at the edges of his mind.

You looked familiar. Mike squinted subtly, trying to place where he'd seen you before. Classes? Maybe you shared a course or passed each other in the hallways. It was hard to say, but Mike couldn't deny the instant spark of recognition.

He had definitely seen you around.

The more he looked, the more he noticed how cute you looked. Your quite demeanor only made him more curious, especially since you hadn't spoken yet.

There was a vulnerability that mirrored Mike's own in some ways. You were trying to hide in plain sight, much like Mike had been doing. He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had brought you here had left deep, unhealed wounds.

He didn't want to be another tragic figure, another story that people pitied. And yet, when he looked your way, there was something in your expression, a quiet strength that made him think you'd understand without judgment. His restlessness would ease just slightly when his eyes met yours, almost like it grounded him, bringing him out of his own thoughts

His thoughts drifted as he continued to sneak glances. He recalled seeing you once in the hallway between classes, maybe in a shared lecture hall, and he remembered thinking even then that there was something captivating about you.

Mike looked away quickly when you shifted in your seat, almost catching him staring. He wasn't here to be checking people out or getting distracted, but he couldn't help it. The way you sat quietly, as if trying to make yourself small, avoiding attention... it tugged at his protective instincts, the same ones that had kicked in back on Blackwood Mountain when everything had gone to hell.

The meeting was now over and chairs scraped against the floor as people stood up one by one, eager to escape back into their own lives.

You started gathering your things and as you glanced toward the door, you noticed Mike Munroe lingering by the exit. Your heart thudded lightly in your chest when he made eye contact with you, this time more intentional than the fleeting glances from earlier you noticed

There was something deliberate about the way he stood, hands shoved into his pockets.

He found himself hesitating for once. He usually bolted out of these things as quickly as possible. He watched you gather your things, preparing to leave, and Mike felt a strange pull to go talk to you.

His gaze flickers between you and the exit, caught in a moment of indecision.

Leave. Walk out now and avoid the vulnerability that talking to you would require. It's safe; it keeps him protected, doesn't risk exposing himself to someone he's only just met.

Take the chance. Go over and talk to you, risk the walls he's built around himself, and maybe find a connection that makes him feel whole again.

He takes a breath, steadying himself. And in a single, decisive moment, he makes his choice.

Take the chance.

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a fleeting trick of light. A faint ripple in the air, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings echoing outward.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

His heart pounded as he walked towards you, mentally rehearsing what to say. 'Hey, I've seen you around before' No, that sounded too stalker-ish. 'Mind if I walk with you?' Too forward.

He's close enough that you catch the faintest hint of cologne, something warm and subtly daring, like cedar and smoke. He clears his throat lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well, that was intense," he says with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Almost feels like we deserve a medal or something, just for sitting through it."

You stifle a chuckle, feeling the tension melt a bit. "Yeah, definitely not how I'd choose to spend a Thursday night."

"Oh?" His brows lift, clearly intrigued. "And what would be your first choice for a Thursday night, then?"

"I don't know," you say, tilting your head. "Maybe something quieter... or a little less emotionally heavy."

"Quieter, huh? So no candlelit dinners or late-night rooftop stargazing?" he quips, his voice smooth and teasing. "Guess I'll have to cross those off my list."

The flirtation in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance away, feeling your cheeks warm. Mike seems to notice because he chuckles, leaning in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower

"I noticed you," You said, your voice tentative, testing the waters. "I've seen you around at Westgate. You're kind of well-known."

Mike's smirk grew a little wider, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. "So you've been checking me out, huh?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of Mike's question, but before you could respond, Mike laughed lightly, clearly enjoying his own teasing. "I'm kidding," Mike said, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. "But now I'm curious... What've you heard?"

"I've heard some things," you said vaguely, trying to stay neutral. "People talk."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Yeah, people do love to talk," he said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "But most of it's bullshit. People don't know what happened. They just make up their own stories."

Your expression softened, sensing the change in Mike's tone. "Yeah, I get that," you said quietly. "People don't know the full story."

Mike glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Exactly," he said softly, his voice dropping slightly. "Not the kind of reputation I ever wanted, though."

There was a beat of silence between you two. You understood the need to avoid delving too deep into things that hurt, offering Mike an understanding look.

Mike caught the expression and quickly shifted the tone again, this time with a playful glint in his eyes. "But hey, I guess I'm kind of a big deal now, huh? Maybe I'll start signing autographs."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "I'm sure people would line up for that."

Mike took a small step closer, his voice dropping just a little. "Would you?"

Mike's gaze lingered on your face for a bit too long, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure whether it was the intensity of Mike's stare or the fact that you felt seen in a way you hadn't expected.

Mike broke the moment with a soft chuckle, glancing down at his feet as if trying to shake off whatever had just passed between them. "Look," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm not great at talking about this stuff, but it'd be good to have someone who gets it, you know? Like having each other's back or something."

There was a vulnerability there, hidden beneath the casual and confident tone, and you found yourself nodding before you even realized it.

"Yeah," You agreed. "That sounds good."

Mike pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping quickly before he handed it over. "Here, give me your number. That way, you can hit me up if you ever need."

You hesitated for just a second before taking the phone, feeling the warmth of Mike's hand as your fingers brushed. You quickly entered your number and handed the phone back.

"Cool," Mike said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I'll text you later. You know, just to make sure you didn't give me a fake number or something."

You laughed again, the tension easing. "Yeah, I wouldn't want you thinking I was trying to ditch you."

Mike's grin widened, and for a moment, it felt like something was going to happen, something more than just words. But then Mike took a step back, his eyes still lingering on your face as he turned to leave.

The moment you stepped into your dorm, your phone buzzed eagerly in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Mike's name flashing on the screen. A grin spread across your face as you swiped to open the message.

Just making sure you didn't give me a fake number ;)

Day 1

Mike [9:35 PM]: Hey. Just making sure you didn't disappear on me after last night. Survived the rest of the day?

You [9:37 PM]: Barely but I’m still here. Didn’t think you’d notice.

Mike [9:40 PM]: Hard not to when you're the most interesting person in the room.

You [9:42 PM]: Pretty sure there were more interesting people there.

Mike [9:45 PM]: Nah, they were all talking about their problems. You? You're like a mystery I wanna figure out.

You [9:46 PM]: That's one way to get someone's number. Smooth, Munroe.

Day 5

Mike [11:22 PM): Do you ever feel like people are waiting for you to act a certain way? Like, they've already decided who you are?

You [11:25 PM]: Sometimes. People can be ruthless. You wanna talk about it?

Mike (11:30 PM]: It's weird. After Blackwood, everyone wants to know what happened but they don't really care, you know? They just want the story. I'm just someone who survived. It's not something I like thinking about.

You [11:35 PM): Yeah, I get that. People don't see what's underneath. They just want to know the stuff to discuss with others. It's tough. But you don't have to share that with everyone. You don't owe anyone anything. I'm sorry you feel this way, Mike.

Mike [11:37 PM]: Nah, don't be. I don't talk about it much, you know? But it helps. With you.

You [11:40 PM]: I'm glad I can help

Mike [11:41 PM]: You're the only one who doesn't see me as that guy from Blackwood Mountain.

You [11:41 PM]: You're just Mike to me.

Mike [11:42 PM]: that's why I like talking to you.

Day 7

Mike [6:05 PM): What're you up to?

You [6:10 PM]: Studying. You?

Mike [6:12 PM]: Thinking about how I hate that you're busy with something boring like that. We should hang out instead.

You [6:10 PM]: I've got an exam. Hanging out might have to wait

Mike [6:13 PM]: Exams are overrated I'm more fun anyway.

You [6:15 PM]: Flattery's not gonna work this time.

Mike [6:17 PM]: Who said I was flattering you? I'm just saying facts. I could help you study if you want. I'm great at, uh... distractions.

You [6:20 PM]: Right, because I need more distractions.

Mike [6:22 PM]: I'm an expert in distractions. Top of my class in Avoidance 101.

You [6:22 PM]: what does the final exam for that class look like?

Mike [6:25 PM]: It's an intense, highly advanced skill. Mostly it involves terrible movies and maybe some pizza. You're up for it?

You [6:27 PM]: Maybe later.

Mike [6:28 PM]: I'll hold you to that.

Day 13

Mike (3:15 PM): You free tonight?

You [3:18 PM]: Depends on what you're offering.

Mike [3:20 PM]: A walk, a drink, maybe we'll figure the rest out later.

You [3:22 PM): Sounds like you're trying to get me in trouble.

Mike [3:25 PM]: I'm just trying to get you to spend more time with me. Trouble's optional. You'll just have to put up with my charm for the moment ;)

You [3:27 PM]: Alright. Where are we going?

Mike [3:30 PM]: You trust me to surprise you?

You [3:32 PM]: Why not?

Mike [3:32 PM]: You won't regret it.

Day 24

Mike [11:50 PM): You looked good today, btw. Saw you in the library. Hard to miss when you're looking that sharp.

You [11:55 PM]: You saw me and didn't say hi? I'm offended.

Mike [00:01 AM]: Didn't wanna distract you. But next time, I'll make sure you can't escape me.

You [00:02 AM]: having trouble sleeping?

Mike [00:03 AM]: yeah. Another nightmare.

You [00:03 AM]: Want me to come over? We can hang out. No pressure to talk.

Mike [00:04 AM]: Yeah? That'd be great, actually. I could use the company. But only if you're cool with it. I don't want to drag you into my mess.

You [00:05 AM]: I'm already in it. Don't worry, Mike. I'll be there in 15.

It had been a few weeks at this point since your first meeting and the texts between Mike and you had become part of your daily routine. They didn't always talk about serious things. Most of the time they were just quick jokes, a random comment about a class or something funny one of you had seen on campus.

There had been that one night where everything seemed to shift between you and Mike. It had started like so many other nights, with the two of you sprawled out on the bed of your dorm room watching terrible horror films from sketchy free movie sites that Mike insisted on finding. The glow of your laptop screen illuminating your faces as you both leaned against the headboard.

It had become so normal to find him here, lounging on your bed or flipping through his phone while you studied or worked on assignments. In many ways it felt like you and Mike had been sharing this room for ages.

He strode in, tossing his jacket carelessly onto the back of your chair and remaining in a simple tank top, beads of sweat still lingering on his skin from the gym as he collapsed beside you on the bed. He immediately grabbed the laptop, pulling up the website you'd found for horror movie marathons.

"You really need to cool off," you muttered, half-joking as you hugged your hoodie tighter around you, trying to find some relief from the icy draft in the room.

"if you worked out with me, you wouldn't be freezing your ass off right now."

"I told you already that this week I couldn't" your voice was muffled by your hoodie as you reminded him of the upcoming exam you had, the warmth he was giving off made it hard not to scoot just a little closer.

"You're being dramatic. It's not that cold" The muscles in his biceps shifted slightly, not in an obvious display, but more like he was just getting comfortable, adjusting his position.

"You say that because you're like a human furnace," you shot back, trying not to let your gaze linger too much on the way his muscles flexed.

The screen of your laptop brightened up as the movie began.

The two of you had started a tradition of finding the worst horror movies you could dig up online. Free ones from obscure sites that had horrendous special effects and plotlines so laughable they were almost entertaining. It was like a competition on who could find the most hilariously bad movie.

At one point, Mike had shifted closer, closing the small distance between you. His arm had slid around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest as you both lay back on the bed, the soft glow of the laptop screen casting faint shadows across the room.

The last thing you remembered was waking up the next morning. It had taken you a moment to realize where you were, your body warm and heavy with sleep, but there was a steady pressure against your back

Mike's arm had been wrapped tightly around your waist, his sturdy chest pressed firmly against your back. He's breathing deeply, a low snore rumbling now and then, the sound soft against your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Mike stirred when he felt you shift, his arm tightening slightly around you before he let out a sleepy mumble. "Morning... Or, uh, afternoon?"

His morning voice was deep, husky, and the warmth of it against your ear made your heart skip a beat.

You turned your head slightly to look at him. "Afternoon. You comfortable there?"

Mike grinned, his face half-buried in your pillow. "You're the best pillow I've had in a while"

"Don't get too used to it. You hog the bed"

"I can't help it if I'm big and take up space," Mike teased, finally pulling away and sitting up. He stretched, his tank top riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin.

Something soon shifted between Mike and you after that moment.

It began subtly, with Mike showing up in the hallways just before your classes, waiting for you. He'd lean casually against the wall, his cocky grin in place as soon as he spotted you walking toward him.

"There he is," Mike would say, teasingly, every single time. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

You'd roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "You've got your own classes, you know. You don't have to wait for me."

"I know," he'd reply with a shrug, falling into step beside you, "but I have my priorities straight."

And that was the start of it. Before long, it wasn't just random meet-ups between classes. Mike was always there, hovering in the hallways, waiting for you after each period.

He also loved seeing you flustered, loved the way you'd get shy whenever he said something that was just a little too bold.

His once constant texts had dwindled, but only because he was with you in person almost every day. He'd walk with you, talking nonstop about everything and nothing, making you laugh with his over-the-top stories or complaining about how much he hated certain professors. He'd check in on you between classes, finding excuses to walk you to and from the dorms or to meet up for lunch.

He was everywhere.

It became so normal this routine of walking together that you started arriving late to class more often than not. Neither of you seemed to care much about the time, too wrapped up in your conversations.

There was also a different side to Mike, one that became obvious whenever anyone else tried to get too close to you. He'd start glaring at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way, standing just a little too close, his expression hardening.

Sometimes it was in the quiet way he'd linger just a bit closer when people passed by or in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, arm almost always resting comfortably on your shoulder. He was always aware, always attentive

A late afternoon, the two of you were back in your dorm, this time working on Mike's classwork. He was propped up against the wall on your bed, legs stretched out casually in front of him as he flipped through his notes while you sat beside him, trying to help him with some difficult subjects from his class while you sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, focusing on explaining a concept that clearly wasn't sticking.

You glanced over at him to see if he was even paying attention as you began your speech.

Mike gave you a lazy grin, his brown eyes half-focused on the notes and half on you, not even bothering to deny it. "I think I'm getting more distracted than enlightened right now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Distracted? How hard can it be to pay attention for 5 minutes?"

"Oh, I'm paying attention," he replied smoothly, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body. "Just... maybe not to the notes"

Your cheeks flushed, and you swatted his shoulder, a half-laugh escaping you. "Keep talking like that, and I might actually make you study."

Mike leaned in even closer, his shoulder now brushing against yours. "There are other ways you could help me... without the textbooks.”

You glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes in mock suspicion. "What exactly did you have in mind?”

Mike smirked, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "I'm sure I could think of a few things."

"You're hopeless," you said, though his voice was soft, not unkind.

"Hopelessly charming," Mike corrected, leaning in just enough so that your shoulders brushed again, his proximity impossible to ignore.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane, drawing both of your attention to the world outside. Snow had started to fall, tiny flakes drifting down in a serene, delicate pattern.

Mike's smile faded

His body grew still, his expression unreadable. Mike's playful energy had disappeared, replaced by something colder, more distant. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for something unseen.

You glanced up, your brow furrowing as you followed Mike's gaze to the window.

"Mike?" You asked softly, your voice gentle, concerned.

His gaze was still locked on the snow, his breath coming in shallow, uneven intervals.

He was back on that mountain, back in the freezing cold, back in the nightmare that had nearly destroyed him.

His hand jerks toward his left hand, gripping it tightly, pressing into the spot where two of his fingers are gone, severed by that brutal bear trap. The memory is vivid, visceral, a searing pain that haunts him, sending shockwaves through his hand as he clutches it, trying to stave off the ghostly ache. His whole body begins to shake, and you can see his chest rising and falling erratically, his breaths turning into strained gasps.

The screeching echoes of the wendigos in his head are getting louder and louder, and he can smell the stale scent of blood in the biting wind.

His hand drops to his lap, trembling violently, and he grabs the edge of the bed, his fingers digging in, his knuckles white as he grips it like it's his lifeline. "No, no, not again," he chokes out, his voice a raw whisper, barely audible

You reach out and place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm, grounding, and his eyes flicker, focusing on you for a split second before glazing over again. His breaths are erratic, shallow and quick, and his face twists with panic as he fights to stay present, his whole body trembling. "Mike, look at me," you say, your voice steady, trying to reach through the fog of fear. "You're here. You're safe. It's just snow, nothing else."

Slowly, he seems to register your words, his gaze flickering back to you, his breathing still labored but slowing slightly as he focuses on the warmth of your hand on his arm.

"I thought I was past it," Mike admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it keeps coming back. Like I'm right there again."

He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

"You're not there anymore," you said softly, your voice full of quiet reassurance. "You're here. With me."

His eyes were drawn to your lips. The way they were slightly parted, the soft flush of color there. He hadn't realized just how close you were sitting until now.

Mike's breath hitched slightly as he swallowed hard, his gaze fixated on your lips. He felt an overwhelming pull, like gravity itself was drawing him closer, and suddenly, all the fear and tension that had gripped him earlier faded into the background. His thoughts narrowed to a single focus.

Pull back. The fear of what this could mean loomed large. He could stop now, retreat to safety, and keep his heart protected.

Go for it. Take that leap into the unknown, embrace the connection forming between you, and let the moment unfold.

Mike's breath quickened as he hovered just inches from you, the world outside forgotten. In that heartbeat, he made his choice.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, Mike began to lean in, his body moving of its own accord, his instincts guiding him now. He paused for a split second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, any signal that he should stop.

But your gaze remained steady, your eyes soft, open, and Mike took that as all the permission he needed

His lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, testing. Then something inside Mike broke free. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough. His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, and the kiss grew rougher, needier.

Mike's other hand found its way to your waist, gripping you with a quiet desperation, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His chest pressed against yours as he angled his head, deepening the kiss even further, his lips moving with a hunger he hadn't realized he was holding back.

You leaned into Mike's touch, matching his intensity. Mike's breath hitched as his tongue slowly flicked out, teasing your bottom lip. When your lips parted slightly, giving him the invitation he was waiting for, Mike couldn't hold back the groan that escaped him.

It was a low, deep sound that rumbled in his chest, full of need and relief. His tongue slipped past your lips, moving with a slow, deliberate exploration, tasting, savoring.

His tongue moved deeper, seeking out the warmth of your mouth, exploring with a kind of roughness, a hunger that Mike couldn't quite control. He groaned again, the sound muffled by the kiss, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as he pulled you closer.

His body was warm, solid, and you instinctively crawled into his lap, seeking the closeness that both of you seemed to need in that moment. You straddled him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs, your hands cradling his face. The light scruff of his beard scratched against your palms as you kept kissing him deeply.

Mike's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath was hot against your throat and you tilted your head back, giving him more access. His tongue brushes lightly against your skin as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you down harder against him.

You shifted in his lap, your movements slow and deliberate as you began to grind against him, the tension between you building with every passing second. Mike let out a low, guttural sound, his hands gripping you tighter as he moved with you, his hips rising to meet yours in a rhythm that grew more urgent by the minute.

"God," he muttered against your neck, his voice thick with need. "You feel so good.."

His hands gently rested on your ass, groping the delicate and soft flesh gently while he took off all the pieces of clothing protecting it.

He circled your hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss you firmly

Working the two fingers in deeper, Mike watched for any reaction, kissing your lips over and over when you squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly you let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot you wanted. He massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along your shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger you were begging for more, digging your nails into Mike's shoulders and moaning against his lips.

With trembling hands, you reached down, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric that still separated you. The anticipation was a slow burn, an exquisite torture as you took your time, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you freed him, your hands sure and steady as you positioned yourself over him.

His gaze never left yours as you slowly sank down onto him, the feeling so overwhelming that it stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was almost too much.

A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched you. His hands moved up your back, tugging at your shirt as he pulled it over your head, discarding it onto the floor without a second thought.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against the hard planes of his chest.

Mike's hands found your hips again, and this time his grip was firmer, more urgent, as he guided you to rock against him with more intensity. The friction between you was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, every touch.

His breathing was heavy, ragged, and with each thrust, a low, guttural grunt escaped his lips. He tried to lose himself in the moment, to forget the memories that haunted him.

As the intensity between you built, Mike's movements became rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you rocked against him harder, faster. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable

Without warning, Mike grunted softly, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame as he lifted you off his lap in one smooth, fluid motion. You gasped at the sudden shift, your legs instinctively wrapping around Mike's waist as you were lifted off the bed. Mike was still fully inside you, enveloping you in a warm, secure cage formed by his strong, protective arms.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you secure as he lowered you onto the mattress with a quiet grunt, his body hovering over yours, never once breaking their connection.

His eyes locked with yours, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips soft but insistent.

The moment you two were settled, Mike began to move again, his thrusts deep and powerful as he pressed your body into the mattress. His hands gripped your things firmly. He was doing everything in his power to please you, to show how much you were appreciated.

His eyes locked on yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was rough, desperate, filled with the same urgency that was driving Mike's movements. His tongue slid into your mouth.

Mike groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he continued to move, his pace quickening, his hips snapping forward with a roughness that sent waves of pleasure through your body.

His body pressed against yours, warm and solid, grounding you in the present moment.

With a final, powerful thrust, Mike let out a deep, guttural grunt, his body trembling as his release washed over him, sending shudders through his entire frame. You cried out, your own climax hitting you at the same time, the intensity of it all making your body tremble beneath Mike's.

Mike collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His arm draped across your waist, pulling you close and giving you the chance to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You could feel the tension in his body slowly start to fade, his breathing evening out as he relaxed into you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough but filled with gratitude. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he couldn't bear to let go.

He shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he could hold you more comfortably, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. His breathing slowed further, the deep, steady rhythm of someone who was finally allowing himself to drift off, to surrender to the quiet peace.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Mike allowed himself to relax completely. There was no tension in his body now, no lingering fear or panic. He might not have been fully healed, but in this moment, he felt whole. And that was enough.

Mike let out one final, soft breath before sleep claimed him-peaceful, quiet, and free. For tonight, at least, the nightmares would stay away.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[jackiequick]

Bonds were made | Agents of SHIELD Fanfic

Pairing: Amelia Parker & Grant Ward

Timeline: Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D. (2013-2020)

Summary: Sometimes the person you see so much respect and kindness for, isn’t the one who you expect it to be. Doesn’t matter how different you may seem, it’s this challenge to themselves and you are going through the process together.

Characters mentioned: Phil Coulson, Melinda May, Natasha Romanoff, Mockingbird, and others

Setting: During SHIELD Academy

—————

Her heart was racing. Pumping. Hunched over her knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was late. The sun was coming down. Close to the dead of night. Her phone was buzzing as she let out a deep breath and glared at the guy in front of her.

He chuckled, wearing hid dark clothes and shook his head watching her. Glancing over at the street light, choking on the heat as the world spins around as they’re frozen on the top of the street.

“What you looking at, Ward?” She yelled, as her glares softened as she tossed a water bottle and he lead her to sit down on the bench nearby.

“Nothing.” He repiled, placing a gentle hand on her back and gave her a certain amount of time to rest.

“I can’t do this. I give up. Can we go home? Please?”

“No, sweetheart. This is what it’s all about. You need to build up your own strength and stamina.”

“Now it just feels like I’m not getting everywhere. I’m done.”

“You just started! What are you gonna do when the real mission comes, huh?”

She gave him an odd look and scoffed chuckling, “Stand behind a set of computers and code my way across the hardware. Sitting!”

“Ames, you said it yourself last week. You want to be versatile! Be a field agent and get out there on the action. I’ve seen it before, you can run and give a good punch to defend yourself.” He replied with an certified look.

“That was different, Grant! I was trying to escape stores, get away from cops and stuff.”

“No, it’s the same thing! You gotta—no, we gotta make this a challenge.”

“More challenging than it is?”

“Yes! You gotta race me, y-you wanna race me? Make it a bet!”

“You’re serious? Your not kidding me, right? Cause you like to cheat sometimes to get me riled up!”

“That’s my point! I gotta find your center to get you moving and want to keep going. I think I know exactly what makes you go for the moment! You do too.”

“…I see your point! Make the connection, search for what they want and stand your ground. That’s how I get it.”

Grant just grinned at her words. He only spent a short few weeks with Amelia but she was something else, she always wanted understand the assignment and plays with the ball she’s given. Something he didn’t have to teach her, she just knows.

Just like him.

It surprised him how young she was but how she tended to keep herself grounded. It like playing a game with her, making sense of what she meant and wants. There was a difference she carried in the way she wanted to things and the balance she tried to keep.

However he always needs to keep her up float, it was his self defense and self doubt she carried but hid behind very well.

He respected it, a lot.

Amelia grinning ear to ear. It was this sweetness she carried, this childlike attitude towards others, wanting to see them in a different light. She always knew she saw something different in Ward. The determination, the guilt of challenging himself to do better for someone can give a chance and the away he treated others.

The self doubt, keeping everything leveled and an confidence she saw in him.

It amazes her how he balanced it all so young.

He carried this look on his face like he gave everyone the cold shoulder, but he really just wanted to see what they’re made of. It’s hard for him to let loose and not be so serious with her, due to way he were so different. But it’s this challenge Amelia had with him, to keep Grant bouncing around and smile where his shoulders dropped in relief, keep him in a position to breathe.

She respected him, so much. She seen the tapes of him in action and honestly she would trust Grant Ward with her life.

She love t—

“Amelia?” He asked with a smile, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?” She repiled with a little smile.

“Do you trust me enough, to race against me?”

“Well you do trust me enough to get the job done?”

His smile grew with a nod, “Yeah, I do.”

“Good. I do too.” She replied this time with a bigger smile.

~~~~

Do you trust me?

Little did they know that one line, would be the thing that chained the relationship they would have.

The bond that would make and break them..

~~~~

The bet, or more like the challenge, Grant made to race down 2–3 blocks and make a left onto a few streets as they would reach the step to the museum.

The Metropolitan Museum Of Art to be exact.

Amelia found it to be sounding easy enough, jumping in pace to hype herself up as she popped in her earbuds. Grant found it funny at first and sorta cute that she needed music to get the job done, but he couldn’t blame her. Music alway make everything better as he decided to join on the fun and throw on his headphones.

There a timer on both phones for 15 minutes tops.

Once the countdown started, Amelia speeded off a second half quicker than Grant who smirked at her pace. The two started out going down the same direction across the blocks, becoming careful for people who were walking around and watching traffic.

It was going well. Hearts racing, beats pumping in their ears as Amelia glanced at timer and tried following Grant. He was more athletic than her, so it made it tricky for her to keep up.

“Keep up slow poke!” Grant yelled, flip to start pacing back and sending her a small wave.

His real test was to see her determination and agility to keep up with the task, like running towards a con artist for example. In his eyes, she wasn’t doing bad so far as he turned back to run the correct way.

She sighed taking a breath and grunted, “Ohh—not fair!”

She on the other hand was testing his strategy a bit, since Amelia thought of taking a short cut past a few people and across the street, since sometime you had to take a little detour to get somewhere.

So she whistled at him and pacing over to the around a group of people, sending way at Ward. He rolled his eyes as she then race off.

———

But Amelia Parker being well..Amelia Parker. She didn’t think her idea would thoroughly lead her towards an narrow end. There were buildings, fire escapes, people walking from different backgrounds, alleyways, dogs, and vehicles passing by her.

“Shit..” She muttered, whined as she started wondering where Ward went and added, “..stupid Parker..”

The girl decided to climb up a fire escape nearby an apartment complex close to a few store, such as H&M and Rainbow, hoping she can get a better look. It kinda stunk due to the dumpsters close by.

She took to the top of one of the buildings, feeling a little fuzzy and groans at the garbage. 

However once she over the smell, using her phone Amelia zoned in and saw the somewhat crowded streets followed by, the lovely Metropolitan Museum so close. Her location wasn’t so far away, so she glad.

She even saw Grant running before noticing she wasn’t behind him. He looked confused for a moment, almost terrified he lost her amongst the audience of people and started playing back his latest memory as he run off.

Amelia on the other hand shrugged, texting Grant she was on her way sooner rather later. It was looking pretty good until Amelia started to get down the stairs to fire escape she saw it. Both guy, around the 18 or so, jogging up to the alleyway floor started to lock eyes with her.

She tried getting down as quick as possible and jump over to the dumpsters for higher level. But she was too late as they were speeding up towards, about to jump down when they started shaking the latter.

The girl paced herself, taking a breathing trying to fight them off using whatever was nearby to hit them as she jumped down the latter.

She was new to this whole thing, fighting off more than one person and finding their weak spots. But still Amelia tried her best, being pushed and tossed onto the groundwork by one of them guys.

“Guys, come on! C-can we talk about this? Huh?” She asked, douching a hit and grabbed a glass bottle to use as a weapon.

But before one of the guys could swing tightly over her face, he was pulled back against the top of his head and whacked hard stumbling backwards. There was one holding Amelia by the side, letting her go and tossing the girl onto the ground.

She stumbles, standing up against the dumpster and gagged at the smell balancing herself then swinging the glass bottle across his guys head. She hit him so hard he was knocked out cold.

“Ames?!” Yelled the rough voice of her partner of the race.

She turned over to face him, as she connected the dots that it was him who whacked the first guy in the head so hard. Grant just finished fighting him off and grunted, racing over to her helping her stand.

“H-hey, hey, look at me. You okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes as he gently takes her face in his hand searching for damage, “Where did the bastards hurt you?”

“Heheh you really fought him for me, huh?” She replies, with a dry laugh giving him a half smile as she looked at his face.

All Amelia saw were the small bruises, snatches and shiner that could form anytime soon on his face. His hoodie fell off as his chest was still huffing. She never saw him worried before, but then again she just got attacked in an alley.

Grant didn’t realized he was taking her face in his hand and search for damages in just a concerned way. He saw the small bruises on her arms. As well as tiny snatches on her face.

“Damn it, Ames!” He grunted, huffing at her humorous laugh and half smile, “You’re hurt. Where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine now and don’t be concerned or blame yourself. It’s part of..training, getting hurt and standing up right?” She replied, running her thumb over his jaw to notice the bruise there.

“You took a detour and got attacked in the process. Of course, I’m concerned!Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay! You saved me, didn’t you?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am i.”

“Always a humorous moment with you, isn’t there?”

“Mhm!”

“Ames, I’m not kidding!”

“I’m fine, your hurt too. A pretty strong attack to the face..a-are you okay?”

“I’ve been hurt far more worse than that. So I’m alright. Coulson’s gonna kill us..”

“He doesn’t have to find out, unless we don’t say anything..”

“At least we’re not bleeding to death, so that’s a plus..”

“I hate you, a lot.”

“Aw, i love you too.”

She huffed pushing the hair out of her face and smirked. He sighed deeply shaking his head, seeing the look in her eyes and returned the smirk.

“No, don’t. You are not going continue the race against me.” He told her with a certain look, smiling softly.

“Come on, we might as well get the job done. Do you trust me to keep going with your challenge?” She asked him with a small grin.

“Serious? Okay I’ll bite. Do you trust me when i say we’re gonna regret this in the morning?”

“Possibly. But um, are we still itching to get it done..i hope..”

“God. One last lap to the museum, Ames. I mean it.” 

“Yes! Then off to 7-11 for pizza and extra water bottles…and um, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Having my back.”

~~~~

He smiled at that, hearing those words.

Parker was a wordsmith with a smile that can make or break something inside someone.

He understood that. It’s something that could help or hurt a person, make you want to watch your step.

Almost like Coulson.

Damn.

She returned the same smile, watching his face considering her words.

Ward was a engineer with his attitude that can sending you spiraling down a wormhole of questions and a smile that can lead you down a certain path.

She knew that. It was this skill level and an great balancing act with a mind that help or hurt you if you mess up. 

As close to Agent May or even Romanoff.

Shit.

~~~~

And once again they were off.

Racing against one another, keeping up the pace watching the other person’s six and matching sure they’re alright after the attack.

It was more like jogging.

Sharing tiny smiles. Grant rolled his eyes at her silly little grin as Amelia scoffed at his cheeky wink he would give in return.

Reaching the street across to the location. He stood behind her watching over to see anyone was nearby and if there was space to make the jump up the steps.

A few steps up to the top of the stairs, kneeling to take a breath and nodding as they ran gently.

Grant reach up the steps first, he smile holding out his hand for her to take. Amelia giggled softly, taking his hand gently as she was pulled into his embrace.

He was honestly proud of her and so was she.

“What you giggling at?” He asked with a smile, his arms wrapped around her shoulder as he looked down at the girl in question.

“You listened and kept going.” She replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace as she looked up at him.

“Your proud?”

“Yeah. You’re a good guy, Ward.”

“You make me feel like I’m a good guy. I’m proud of you. You passed my test.”

“Test?”

“Yeah, i wanted to see your determination and I made sure of it. You kept going even if i wasn’t on the same page about it”

“Of course, i took a page out of your book. To keep going and stop when you can’t anymore. And you passed mine, I think.”

“Hmm, i guess so. You’re gonna be a good agent some day.”

“As good as you or better?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Parker.”

He walked away from her, nodding for her to follow him as he held out an hand.

She raised an eyebrow and added, “You didn’t answer my question!”

“I didn’t need to!” He responded, waving his hand waiting for her.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Not happening.”

“Good answer.”

Amelia paced up, taking his hand gently and walked with him down the path. Grant nodded, taking the lead glancing down at her every once in a while.

As they walked down the street, he notice her smile and tiny bruises that started to take shape.

But she wasn’t angry about it nor upset with him about leading the way. It was her choice and she made a mistake, learning from it.

He knew why she is the way, she is and admired her for it. Hell, he thanked his timing and the position he was in to have her in his life.

Knowing that Amelia Parker would make a great deal of decisions one day and in result make people shine or question their tactics.

And he hopes he can be there to see it.

What happened today and the damaged that cause him to end up hurt—both of them to be hurt—it wasn’t his fault per say. He knew the risk and she knew the way he would think about it.

She noticed the smile on his face, making her own grow. She never expected to find someone like Grant Ward in her life and thanked the whole situation she was in for it.

He made a mistake not watching his back, but he will learn as the time goes and the keystone that follows along that path.

She admired that part of him, since Ward isn’t one to to make small mistakes very often and it shows her that it’s part of the job.

Knowing that Ward will have to become an leader one day, having to help a group during highly trained mission of some kind and make decisions that might cost his life or save it.

And something tells her that she might be there to see it.

___

Little did they know that those hopes and suspensions will become true.

Leading different paths within the same field and bumping into one another weather they like it or not.

But that’s an tale for another day…

——-

Thanks for reading! I wanted to write an story about this pair for a while now. I hope you enjoy it

Please like, share, comment and reblog for more stuff like this one

Tags: @sherloquestea @gaminggirlsstuff @starkleila @msrochelleromanofffelton @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @mandylove1000 @whitewiccan @mallowbee4 @comfortzonequeen @topgun-imagines @rooster-84 and etc

[taliaaurora]

Forbidden Love (3) - The One Where Alison Disobeys An Order, Again

Pairing: Jason Pelham x Alison Jones

Summary: Jones comes back to Firehouse 51 after being away for two weeks. Pelham can't help but feel guilty and responsible for her injuries, leading him to keep a distance from her. A fight between the lieutenant and a firefighter only brings them closer.

Warning: mention of injuries, mention of an abusive stepfather.

Words Count: 2.1k

A/N: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy this chapter! 💕

Want to join my tag list? You can request it here! 🦋

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

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

Staring at her phone, Alie bit the inside of her cheek. She had left Pelham a bunch of texts, but he never replied. He was ignoring her and she knew exactly why. Pelham had been avoiding her since that shift when Severide blamed him for her injuries.

“Severide shouldn’t have talked to Pelham like that, it wasn’t his fault.” Sylvie said as she took a seat next to Alie on the couch. Looking over her phone, Alie saw her friend and sighed.

“Yeah. Severide is not being himself lately, I can’t really blame him.” Alie explained. Before she could say anything else, her attention was caught by a certain lieutenant making his way to the locker room. “I’ll be right back.” Alie quickly mumbled, stumbling off the couch as she tried to catch up with Pelham.

Entering the locker room, Alie leaned on the doorway as Pelham sat on the bench, putting his bag on the floor.

“You didn't reply to any of my texts.” She softly said, testing the waters. Pelham kept his head down, minding his business, and didn’t say a word. Nodding her head in understanding, Alie licked her lips. “You don’t want to talk to me. I get it. I’m sorry to bother you, lieutenant.” She left the room with her head down, completely embarrassed. She felt like an idiot, begging for the attention of a man she barely knew.

Pelham shoved his bag inside his locker, slamming the door shut right after. He already felt guilty for what happened to Alison and Severide only made him feel worst. For the last couple of days, he barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, that scene repeated in his head, Alie holding his hand as the floor collapsed beneath her feet. What happened in just a few seconds kept repeating in slow motion. He couldn’t forget the fear in Alie’s eyes as she fell down. The way she held his hand for dear life before everything happened. It was too much. But he also couldn’t forget the way she smiled when she was lying under him, joking around and making snarky comments, even through the pain. The pain of the bruises and the rib she broke because of him.

He couldn’t quite understand why that was messing up with his head. Of course, he felt guilty, someone from his team got hurt under his supervision but…Why was he feeling like he let Alie down?

Pelham’s thought was disturbed by the sound of the alarm blasting in the room. Truck 81 and Ambo 61 were being requested to attend a car accident. Quickly, Pelham ran to the apparatus floor and stepped inside his turnout gear, glancing at Alie every now and then. Before climbing in the front seat of the truck, Pelham met Alie’s eyes, but she quickly looked away. And that’s how she spent the whole ride. Looking outside the window, avoiding Pelham’s eyes.

Once the truck came to a stop, Pelham stepped out and approached the scene. A tree had fallen on top of a car that was passing by the street. There were two victims stuck inside the vehicle and no one knew in what state they were in because the branches were blocking their vision.

“Hey, Gallo!” Pelham barked after taking a look at the vehicle. "I want you to stabilize the trunk so we relieve the pressure on the vehicle.” Walking up to the truck, Pelham grabbed the chainsaw. “Mouch, you’re with me. We’re going to cut those branches so the paramedics can take a look at the victims.”

Nodding their heads, Mouch and Gallo did what they were told. Alison stood in place, looking around in confusion. “Uh-hum.” She dramatically cleared her throat. “What about me, lieutenant?” She angled up her brows.

“You’re going to keep the pedestrians away and make sure the traffic continues to flow as normally as possible.” Pelham spoke over his shoulder.

Clenching her jaw, Alie licked her lips and nodded. Turning her back to the lieutenant, she walked to the truck and grabbed the traffic cones. Alie was sure Pelham was getting his revenge on her for disobeying his orders on her last shift. However, she had no idea Pelham was doing that to protect her. Alie had broken her rib two weeks ago, and even though she said she was fine, Pelham didn’t believe her. He didn’t want her carrying too much weight or making too much effort. She should rest.

Half an hour went by. The branches had been cut off and placed by the side of the road, so Mouch, Gallo, and Pelham rolled the remains of the trunk off the vehicle. Violet and Sylvie were having a hard time trying to take care of the victims, so after looking around, Alie noticed that the traffic had gone back to normal and she wasn’t needed anymore. Rushing to the vehicle, Alie climbed on the back seat and helped Sylvie take the driver out of the car while Violet took care of the victim in the passenger seat.

When Pelham returned to the scene and didn’t see Alie taking care of the traffic, he lost his mind. Feeling like his head was going to explode, he waited until she stepped out of the vehicle so he could leash his anger at the firefighter.

“Have you lost your mind!?” He shouted, following Alie to the truck. As she pretended to ignore his callings, Pelham grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn around and face him. "Goddammit, Jones!”

As Alie turned around and stared deep inside his eyes, she noticed the vein popping on Pelham’s forehead. He could scream and shout as much as he wanted. She didn’t fear him. But she pissed him off. Now she had to take the consequences.

After glaring at Pelham’s hold on her arm, Alie looked up and met the lieutenant’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, she spoke with a calm, steady voice. “Let go of my arm.”

Taking his hand off of her, Pelham frowned, taking a step closer. “Is there any authority you respect, Jones? I’m pretty sure you were used to stepping over Casey’s orders, but I’m not Casey. SO WHEN I GIVE YOU AN ORDER, I EXPECT YOU TO FOLLOW IT!” His sudden rise of voice made Alie flinch, taking her eyes off of him. “If I have to yell at you again, it won’t be this nice. Do you understand me, Jones?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Alie was not going to take this kind of treatment and do anything. It was a dangerous move, yet she couldn't help the anger pumping through her veins as she clenched her hands into a fist. Feeling her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths, she clenched her jaw and took a step closer to Pelham, her nose only a few inches away from his.

"Don’t be deceived, Lieutenant,” Alie spoke, using a bitter tone to pronounce the last word. “I’m quite familiar with the rules. But I couldn't just stand here and do nothing while the paramedics needed help." Staring deep inside his eyes, Alie let her lips curve slightly into a smirk. “And don’t worry, we all know you’re not Casey. Casey would never yell at his team. Maybe you should pay him a visit and learn a few things from him.” Alie stepped away, but before she could leave, she stopped by Pelham’s side and spoke close to his ear. “Next time you lay your hand on me… I’ll rip your arm off and beat you to death with it.” Pulling away just to look in his eyes, she continued. “Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.”

“Uh-hum, lieutenant. Everything is packed up and ready to go.” Mouch spoke, flashing Alie a sympathetic smile as she walked past him. “Don’t take it personally, she acts like she’s tough but she’s a softie on the inside.” Mouch confessed, patting Pelham’s shoulder, before joining Alie and Gallo.

Nodding his head in understanding, Pelham sighed. Turning his head around, he watched Alie as she laughed at something Gallo had just said.

 “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Gallo asked Alie, raising his brows.

 “Yes, Gallo, I’m sure.”  She laughed, climbing on the truck as Gallo followed her.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

-/-/-

No one knew how or when it happened, all the team knew was that the power went out in the whole neighborhood, including the firehouse. That meant 51 was out of service and everyone would have to spend the night in the dark until the power came back.

While most of the first responders chose to take a nap, Alie chose to sit outside the firehouse and enjoy some time alone, watching the cars pass by the street. It was a beautiful night, the moon was so bright and the stars were more visible now than ever.

But moments like this don't last forever. Alie’s phone vibrated on her lap, interrupting her train of thoughts. Glancing at the screen, she sighed. Her mom had been texting her about Stephen’s funeral and how she never showed up. Once again, Alie put her phone away and ignored her mom. She didn’t want to deal with her shit. Not today.

But Alie couldn’t help but think about her brothers. Their dad had just died and they needed their big sister. She felt her heart squeeze in her chest. It had been a while since she last saw the boys. It took all of Alie's strength to walk inside that house, the house where all her nightmares started, so she would pay the boys a visit at school every now and then. But she couldn’t see them now. Alie couldn’t face her mom, not after what she went through. They hadn’t seen each other in years, since the day Alie ran away from home, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Leaning further on the chair, Alie looked up to the sky and gazed at the stars. The tears ran down her cheeks as the image of her brothers came into her head.

“If there’s a god out there,” she whispered, suppressing a sob. “Please, keep my brothers safe.”

Alie stood in silence for a few minutes, admiring the sky, until she heard the firehouse door open. Sitting up in the chair, she quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand, but it was too late, Pelham had already noticed it.

“Aw, so you do have feelings.” He approached Alie.

“The only feeling I have right now is annoyance.” She shot back, sniffling.

Standing in front of the firefighter, Pelham took a seat on the cold floor. After a few minutes of studying Alie’s face, he finally decided to speak. “I can see something is making you upset.”

“This ‘something’ has a name and a rank.” She held back a smirk as she met his eyes. “Lieutenant Jason Pelham.”

Throwing his head back, Pelham laughed, then shook his head. “Quit being sarcastic.”

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.” Alie explained. “I’m having to deal with a lot of that lately.” She sighed, looking at Pelham.

“I know this isn’t about me. It’s about something else. Someone else, I should say. But if you don’t want to talk about it, I get it. We barely know each other.” Cocking his head to the side, Pelham’s lips slightly curved into a smile. “Even though I kind of like the secretiveness, I’d like to know you better, Jones.”

Looking at him with side-eyes, Alie scoffed. "I'd rather die."

“Ouch!” Pretending to be shocked, Pelham’s mouth fell open as he brought his hand to his chest. “When I first came at 51, I really thought we would get along. But you’re being a real pain in my ass, you know that, right?”

“I am a pain in the ass? Me?? I deserve an Oscar for putting up with you. Too bad they don’t work that way.” Alie bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Jesus! You test my patience every single day, you know that?” Pelham shook his head, getting up from the floor. “And here I was, thinking that we were having something nice between us and that you actually liked me.”

“Oh, I do like you.” Alie reassured him, getting his full attention. “Under penalty of death.” She smiled.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Jones. I’ve been in a lot of different houses, but I have never…ever... been treated like this by another firefighter.” And it was also the first time he let someone talk to him this way, he thought. Making his way into the common room, he spoke over his shoulder, “You’re an exotic little creature.”

“Yeah, yeah…My middle finger salutes you.” Alie mumbled as she showed him the finger, raising her arm above her head and letting a smile appear on her face once the lieutenant was out of view.

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[taliaaurora]

Forbidden Love (2) - The One Where Alison Disobeys An Order

Pairing: Jason Pelham x Alison Jones

Summary: A ghost of the past comes back to Alison's life. Pelham's second shift at Firehouse 51 gets even worse than the first one as Alie chooses to disobey his orders.

Warning: mention of an abusive stepfather, implicit mention of child abuse, injuries.

Words Count: 2.6k

A/N: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy this chapter! 💕

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Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

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Making her way to the firehouse, Alie could see Severide’s grumpy face from almost a mile away. He was sitting alone at the squad table, staring into space, when she entered the apparatus floor.

“Whoa, dude.” She took a seat on the chair next to him, putting her bag on her lap, as the lieutenant watched her. “You look like you need an ice cream.”

“Shut up.” He playfully punched her arm, his lips slightly curving into a smile. “I’m just a little stressed out, that’s all.”

Alie nodded her head in understanding. “Yeah, I hear you. If you need someone to vent, you know where to find me.” She patted his shoulder before standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. “I should go get changed, I don’t want the new lieutenant getting on my nerves for being late again.”

“How is he, by the way?” Severide asked. “I barely talked to him last shift.”

“Oh, he’s fine, I guess.” Alie shrugged. “No comparison to Casey, though. But he seems to be a good lieutenant.” She nodded her head, flashing a half-smile.

“Yeah, there’s no one like Casey.” Severide glanced in the direction of Casey’s old office, which belonged to Herrmann now.

“Is everything okay between you and Herrmann?” Alie asked with a soft voice, knowing Severide was going through a tough time now that his fiance and his best friend were out of town. For the last couple of shifts, the Squad and the Engine lieutenant kept bickering over Casey’s office.

“Yeah, but as you just said,” Severide turned back to face Alie and flashed a weak smile. “...no comparison to Casey.” 

-/-/-

Entering the locker room, Alie was met by Pelham, sitting on the bench as he put his regular clothes inside his duffle bag. 

“Morning, Jones!” The lieutenant greeted her over his shoulder, a big smile on his face.

“Morning.” She greeted him back, opening her locker and placing her bag inside. Glancing at Pelham, she frowned. “What’s wrong with your face? You’re smiling.”

 “I’m not allowed to smile?” He scoffed, standing up and putting his bag inside his locker.

“No.” Alie shook her head. “Smiling this early in the morning is unnatural and disgusting.” A short laugh passed through Pelham’s lips as he shook his head in disbelief. “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.” Alie warned, trying so hard not to smile at the lieutenant.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, so she pulled it out, glancing at the notification on the screen. As soon as she saw what it was, Alie stared at the ground, biting the inside of her cheek while her eyes welled up.

“You okay?” Pelham’s voice was soft as he gently rested his hand on Alie’s arm. The way her features changed when she looked at her phone didn’t go unnoticed by the lieutenant.

“Yeah,” Alie half-smiled, nodding her head. Grabbing her uniform, she quickly made her way to the bathroom so she could get changed in privacy. When the bathroom doors were closed, she sat on the toilet and rested her elbows on her knees, running her hands through her hair.

She couldn’t avoid the tears from rolling down her cheeks as she looked at her phone once again, reading her mom’s text, “Stephen passed away. Can you go to the funeral with me, please? I really need you, sweetie.”

As her phone fell to the ground, she buried her face in the uniform she was holding on her lap, letting out a muffled scream. Then another one. And another one, from the top of her lungs. Letting out all the pain, anger, guilt, and shame she felt for so many years. She let her body get rid of everything that man made her feel. She just hoped that all her nightmares would go away with Stephen - or dad, as he would make her call him, even though they didn’t share the same DNA.

“He’s dead.” Alie whispered, shaking her head as the tears fell down her chin. “It’s over. It’s over, he’s dead.” She kept repeating, as her cries suddenly turned into a laugh of relief. Alie knew it was wrong, she shouldn’t be happy when her mom was clearly in pain, but it felt so right. She felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She didn’t have to be afraid anymore, he was gone. She didn’t have to worry about her brothers, they would be safe now. 

“Alie? Are you in here?” Brett called, stepping inside the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m changing into my uniform!” Alie quickly answered, wiping her tears with the back of her hand as she stood up to change her clothes.

“Okay, Chief said he wants us in the briefing room in ten minutes. I’ll save a seat for you!” Brett smiled, exiting the room.

Once Alie felt like she was ready, she grabbed her phone from the floor and shoved it inside her pocket. With some deep breaths, she stepped outside the bathroom and made her way to the briefing room. Alie took the seat next to Brett and tried to focus on the meeting, not noticing the way Pelham’s eyes were fixated on her, full of worry and curiosity.

-/-/-

Before the briefing was over, the alarm rang through the firehouse. “Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Engine 61. Structural Fire…”

In less than three minutes, everyone had put their gear on and was climbing in their trucks, ready to go. This time, Alie saw how Pelham would constantly glance at her through the rearview mirror, but she chose to ignore it as she felt her cheeks burn. Even though this was only her second shift with Pelham, she already liked him. He was a little tough sometimes, but Alie knew he was just trying to mark his territory. However, there was something about him that felt strangely familiar. Maybe they had already met in the past, maybe he just reminded her of someone, she couldn’t tell what it was.

Arriving on the scene, Mouch parked the truck in front of the three-story house and everyone quickly gathered around the lieutenants, waiting for the instructions. An elderly woman rushed towards Severide, desperately telling him that she fell asleep on the couch, forgetting a pan on the stove - which led to the fire.

“I went to look for my grandson, but I couldn’t find him…” She cried, grabbing on Severide’s jacket. “You have to find him, he’s just 5!!” She pleaded, while Brett gently pulled her towards the ambo to check her vitals.

“Okay, Truck 81 listen up!” Pelham barked, turning to his team. “This house has wooden floors, which means we have to be extra careful about where we step. According to the lady, the kid’s room is on the second floor, right above the kitchen, so that’s probably where he is.” Walking to the truck, the lieutenant grabbed his oxygen tank and his mask, and everyone did the same. “Squad is going to make a search on the third floor, and Engine will try to put the fire out in the kitchen and make a search on the first floor. Mouch and Gallo, you’re operating the aerial ladder. I want you to position the ladder on the second floor, on the bedroom window. Jones, you’re on the second floor. You’re the lightest person on the team, so you’re our best shot to get inside the kid’s room without collapsing the floor. You got the most dangerous part, but don’t worry, I’ll be by your side all the time.” Staring deep inside the firefighters' eyes, Pelham gave the last instruction. “Now, move! We have a kid to save.”

Alie walked inside the house, making sure her mask was secure on her face, then she carefully made her way upstairs, Pelham following right behind. 

“I think we should part ways.” She shouted to Pelham, the only way he could hear her through the mask.

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “You make a quick search on the bathroom and I’ll take a look at the parents' bedroom. Then we’ll go to the kid’s room, together.” Pelham shouted back, looking inside Alie’s eyes. Nodding their heads, each one followed their paths, trying to find the boy. The kid was scared, so he could be hiding anywhere and the team didn’t have much time.

Opening the bathroom door, Alie looked behind the shower curtain, inside the cabinet, behind the door, but the kid was nowhere to be found. Sighing, she stepped outside the bathroom and glanced at the blue door at the end of the hall. Biting her lip, Alie walked to the room and waited a few seconds. Pelham told her to wait for him to go inside, but the boy could be running out of time.

Opening the door, Alie could feel the heat coming from the ground. She carefully stepped inside the room, but the floor squeaked. Noticing the room didn’t have too much smoke, Alison took off her oxygen tank and left it by the door, along with her mask. Now that she wasn’t carrying too much weight, she stepped inside the room once again, sighing in relief when the floor didn’t make a sound.

Alie kept thinking in her head, where would a 5-year-old boy hide when he’s scared? Crouching on the floor, she looked under the bed but found nothing but a few toys scattered around. She had rested her palms on the floor for support and, even though she was wearing gloves, she could feel how hot the wooden floor was. That meant she didn’t have much time until it collapsed.

Pelham stepped outside the parent’s room and glanced at the door at the end of the hall. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. In a fraction of a second, he ran to the bedroom, his eyes widening while the blood started to boil in his veins.

“JONES!” He shouted by the door, seeing the firefighter use a piece of fabric to cover her nose from the smoke that had increased, while she looked through the kid’s closet. “I told you to wait for me!” He barked once again.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Alie shouted over her shoulder, coughing once she tried to take a breath. “We don’t have much time and I’m the only one who could step inside this room, you said it yourself!”

Pelham didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave her alone in there without her mask and her tank, it was extremely dangerous. However, he knew he couldn’t step inside the room because the floor wouldn’t take his weight. Looking over to the window, Pelham saw the aerial ladder and sighed. An exit through the window was not an option anymore. Alie would have to walk across the whole room to reach the window while the floor was about to collapse. The only thing Pelham could do was stand by the door and watch. And he hated himself for that.

Alie tried to look strong, but the smoke was too much for her to handle. Her eyes and throat were burning and she could taste the smoke in her tongue. It didn’t take long until she started to feel dizzy. Pelham noticed that. Dropping his tank on the ground, next to Alie’s, he took off his mask and carefully stepped inside the room. He needed to get her out of there as soon as possible.

“We got him!” Severide’s voice rang through the radio. “We found the boy! I’m bringing him out now.” 

Pelham sighed in relief, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. He needed to get to Alison soon, but with caution. Taking a step further into the room, Pelham took off his glove and reached his hand out.

“Jones, I need you to take my hand. Now!” He spoke with a soft but urgent voice.

“I can’t! I have to find him!” She cried out, desperately looking around the room, despite the fact that her head was spinning.

“Severide found him! He’s safe, okay?” Pelham looked at her with concerned eyes, trying to take a step closer to Alie, but failing once he heard the wood squeak. “Come on, Jones, take my hand!” He shouted, this time in a plea.

Finally looking at her lieutenant, Alie seemed to come back to reality. The boy was safe and they had to get out of there, fast. Taking a step closer to Pelham, she reached her hand out and he grabbed it. With a tight hold on her hand, he tried to pull Alie towards him. He didn’t expect the ground would cave in, but it did. The floor beneath Alie’s feet opened and she fell, taking Pelham down with her.

With a loud thud, the two firefighters fell right into the kitchen, where the fire had just been put down by Engine 51. Laying on top of Alie, Pelham took a few seconds to regain consciousness of what had happened. Looking down, he saw Alie with her eyes closed, having a hard time to breath.

“Jones?” Pelham quickly rolled off of her and tried to listen to her heartbeat. “Come on, Jones, this is not a good time to scare me.” Reaching for his radio, he called out for help.

Suddenly, Alie’s eyes fluttered open and she started to cough, wincing every time she tried to take a breath.

“You okay? Where does it hurt?” Pelham desperately looked for any sign of external injuries. Not finding any, his eyes went back to the scratches on her face. “Jones, can you breath?”

Coughing one more time, Alie shook her head. “How am I supposed to breathe when you’re standing so close?” She spoke with gritted teeth as she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

Pelham couldn’t help but laugh as he sat on the floor, taking off his helmet and running his hand through his hair. Licking his lips, he shook his head and met Alie's eyes. “You could’ve died, yet you're making jokes? You made me feel miserable, you know that?”

Turning her head to the side to look at the lieutenant, Alie frowned. “Really? Then how come you’re smiling?” She grinned. Alie tried to sit up but failed,  pressing her lips together to suppress a groan. “Not to ruin the mood, but… I think you broke my rib.”

Just in time, Sylvie and Violet entered the house, followed by a very worried Severide. Kneeling next to Alie, Violet searched for any visible injuries while Sylvie checked her heart and her breathing. As Violet placed her hand on Alie’s ribs, she let out another wince.

“Definitely broken.” Violet stated, sending Alie a sympathetic look.

“What the hell happened!??” Severide shouted, his eyes darting between Alison and Pelham. Standing in front of the interim lieutenant, he felt his blood boil. “How did you let this happen to her?”

“Sev, please.” Alie shook her head as she was put on the backboard. “It wasn’t Pelham’s fault. This one is all on me.” She explained.

“No, I don’t buy that.” Severide insisted, shaking his head. After Casey left Chicago, Severide felt like he was the one who had to protect Alie. Turning to Pelham, he narrowed his eyes and shook his head, letting a dry chuckle fall through his lips. “She trusted you, and you just sent her alone inside that room to get herself killed! What kind of lieutenant are you!?”

Standing up from the floor, Pelham clenched his jaw as he watched Alie being carried out of the house. Without saying a word, he walked past Severide and made his way upstairs to grab the gear he and Alie had left.

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