#its such a small stupid thing to angst over like gun to my head could not tell you this persons name or if they ever blogged about their

[dykerikki]

lmfao????

[chiaraanatra]

You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ | Part 4

Summary: Goose meets you at the O Bar after a couple of drinks and a conversation he wished would never end he believes that he’ll never see you again. Little did he know while this may have been your first meeting, it would not be your last.

Warnings: ANGST but with a happy ending, plane crash, mentions of hospitalization, concussion, and stitches, swearing, flirting, Goose being a hopeless romantic, Silly Goose, use of Y/N and she/her pronouns, kissing.

Word Count: 3012

Songs: Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewi

A/N: This is the last part of this series but I will be posting a short fluffy epilogue. Thank you for all the love on this series! As always I know nothing about planes, aviation, engineering, the Navy, or how a med bay works.

《 part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || epilogue 》 《 m.list || ao3 》

After dinner, you two of you talked for hours about everything from your families to your careers and hobbies. Nick left your house around 11 pm. You both wished that night would never end but you both knew tomorrow would be another early morning.

You walked the tall aviator to the door, he slipped on his shoes before turning back to you. “Please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing. I know this is complicated with Top Gun and everything but I-“

Before he could spiral, you leaned up to wrap your arms around his neck and connect your lips with his once more. His hands found their way to your waist. You kissed him slowly for a few moments before pulling away, your hands meeting his cheeks. “I like you too, Nick. It’ll be a bit complicated, but I’d like to see where it goes.”

A big smile made its way to Goose’s lips. He nodded his head before pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Goose pulled into his driveway sitting in his car for a few moments. He couldn’t help the stupid smile that was plastered on his face. He noticed Mav’s living room light turn on. Wonder what he’s still doing up.

He walked across the few feet of yard that separated the two aviators’ rentals. He knocked on the side door just outside the living room, gaining the shorter pilot’s attention. Goose let himself in.

“Still awake?” Mav said as Goose took up a spot on the opposite couch.

“Yeah.” Goose had a perplexed look on his face as he thought over all that had happened in the last 6 hours.

“What's up?”

Goose didn’t answer, trying to think of exactly what to say.

“Talk to me Goose.”

Goose let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “you’re gonna think I’m crazy, Mav.”

“No more than I already do.” The shorter pilot joked as he leaned back.

“I think I’m in love…”

“With Stinger?” He leaned forward and Goose nodded in response. ”Bullshit! How pussy drunk are you?”

“God Mav, get your head out of your ass. I didn’t sleep with her! She cooked me dinner we talked, we danced to the radio, we kissed…” He could have gone on about how your lips fit together perfectly, how soft your skin was, and how badly he wanted to stay by your side forever but he knew he was gonna get enough shit from Pete for what he was about to say. “Mav, I’m telling you I’m going to marry that girl.”

Pete could barely believe what he was hearing but he knew from the look in his best friend’s eyes that he was dead serious. “Shit… Guess I better get my dress whites ready.”

In the 9 weeks since having dinner at your place, you and Goose began dating each other in secret. Private dinner dates, long walks on the beach, sneaking kisses in the elevator, or behind the F14s parked in the hangar. Thankfully the two of you were better at keeping things under wraps than Mav and Charlie.

On a rare day off, the four of you decided to meet up at a small bar near the base. Mav, Charlie, and you were sitting in a corner booth, Goose saw a piano and decided the empty joint needed a bit of music.

Music rang through the upright piano and throughout the small bar before his voice began to do the same.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

“Doesn't he ever embarrass you two?” Charlie was asking both you and Maverick, but the pilot was the first to answer for you both.

“Goose? Hell, no!” He had a wild smile on his face that faded ever so slightly, “well, there was the time. . .

“Admiral's daughter?” Your words quickly pulled Mav from his thoughts.

“What?” You could see the nervousness grow on his face.

“Come on, Pete. He told me all about the time you went ballistic with Penny Benjamin.”

“Did he?” Mav’s gaze moved towards the Hawaiian shirt-clad, piano-playing RIO, “well, that's great.”

“He’s told me about all of them, Maverick. Quite the past I must say,” you giggled.

“Uh-huh… All right, thank you, Stinger. I'm gonna go embarrass myself with Goose for a while.”

Mav’s voice joined Goose’s.

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny

You came along and you moved me honey

I've changed my mind, this love is fine

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

“For as much as I get a kick out of teasing Maverick…” You paused taking a sip of your drink, “from what Goose has told me one thing's for certain: there are hearts breaking wide open all over the world tonight.”

Charlie looked at you with confusion, “Why?”

“Because unless you are a fool, that boy is off the market. Goose says he is 100 percent, prime time in love with you.” You let out a small laugh at the way Charlie’s jaw fell open a little. You turned your attention towards the two aviators.

“Hey, Goose, you big stud!”

“That's me, honey.” He glanced towards you lowering his sunglasses.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever.” You shouted across the empty bar.

“Show me the way home, honey!”

 You drag Charlie over to the piano and the four of you finished out the song.

I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs

Real nervous, but it sure is fun

Come on, baby, drive me crazy

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

Goose pulls you on top of his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Mav may have been in love with Charlie but those feelings could never match what you and Nick felt for one another.

Jester’s voice came through over the coms. “Okay, gentlemen, this is hop 31. Two weeks to graduation. Top Gun trophy is still up for grabs, so every point counts.”

Goose’s voice was the next to come through. “It’s a beautiful Friday morning here in sunny San Diego. It's the bottom of the ninth, the score is tied. It's time for the big one, gentlemen.”

Ice was checking over his gauges as they approached the proper height. “You up for this one, Maverick?”

Mav gave a cocky smile as he talked into his mask, “just a walk in the park, Kazansky.”

Slider looked out on the radar, “contact. Multiple bogies, 165. Two miles. Looks like they're going away from us.”

“Ho, I see them, tallyho, right 2 o'clock. I'm in.” Just as he was about to lean into the curve Ice cut him off.

“I'm in.” With his plane just ahead and to the right of mavericks he was able to cut him off.

“That son of a bitch cut me off.” Mav was pissed and Goose could tell by the sudden Gs that hit him as the plane curved to trail behind Ice and Slider.

The two plains closely tailed the three bogies. “Come on, come on. Jesus Christ. Ice, take the shot.” Mav was getting impatient, and Goose could tell.

“Come on, Ice, get the hell out of there,” Goose called into his mask.

“I can't get the angle. I'm too close for missiles. I'm switching to guns.” Ice flipped the switch on his weapons system to guns but still didn’t take any shots.

“Ice, fire or clear.” Neither Mav, Goose, nor Slider could understand what was taking Ice so long to line up the shot.

 “Look at this! Jesus Christ, I can take a shot right here!” Mav had a clear line of sight just past Ice and Slider’s plane. If Ice moved, he would have the shot in seconds.

“I need another 20 seconds, then I've got it.” Mav still couldn’t tell what Ice’s play was outside of wasting time and costing Mav the Top Gun trophy.

“I'm moving in. I've got the shot.” Mav called.

“Come on, Mav, let's get in there! Goose encouraged. “Come on, Mav!”

“Maverick's getting impatient, Ice. Come on, take the shot!” Slider called.

“Ten more seconds, then I've got him.” Ice was precisely lining up his shot and taking far too long to do so. He knew it Slider knew it and most of all Goose and Mav knew it.

Goose let out a groan of his own frustration. “Come on, Ice, get the hell out of there! Let's do it, Mav.”

“Ice, come off high right. I'm in.” Mav’s voice commanded over the coms.

Ice tried to buy himself a bit more time. “Five more seconds.”

“Come off high right, Ice. I'm in.” Mav began slowly moving his plane into position, pushing Kazansky out.

“I'm off.” Ice shifted his trajectory allowing Mitchel to take his place. “Shit!”

There was a sudden wave of turbulence and alarms began to blare. “We're in his jet wash!”

“Ho! Holy shit!” Mav desperately tried to get the plane under control.

“This is not good!” Goose was quickly checking things over in an attempt to help aid in the recovery. He turned when he heard a sudden silence from his left. “Shit, we got a flameout, Mav! Engine one is out!” The same lack of sound came from his right shortly after. “Engine two is out!”

“Goose, I'm losing control! I'm losing control! I can't control it! It won't recover! Shit!” It was impossible for Mav to gain control back and the G-force was beginning to press him forward.

“It's coupling up, Mav! We're out of control. This is not good! This is not good!” Goose could feel them begin to head into a tailspin.

“Mayday, mayday. Mav's in trouble. He's in a flat spin. He's heading out to sea.” Ice called out as he watched his wingmen spin out of control, unable to aid them.

Goose watched as the altitude gauge began spinning. “Altitude 8,000, 7,000. Six. We're at six, Mav.”

Mav’s face was practically pressed up against the glass. “I'm pinned forward, Goose. I can't reach the ejection handle! Goose, you're gonna have to punch us out! I can't reach the ejection handle! Eject!

“I'm trying! I'm trying!” Goose was desperately trying to reach for the overhead ejection handles, working against the intense Gs.

“Eject! Eject! Eject! Watch the canopy!”

The coms went dead, and your entire body stiffened. You excused yourself from the conference room where you were observing and listening in on the training exercises. Charlie quickly followed suit.

“Oh my god… Oh my god…” your voice was almost as shacky as your body.

“Charlie wrapped her arms around you, enveloping you in a hug. “Common we can meet them at the medical building.” Her voice was surprisingly calm, but you could tell by her stiff figure that she was freaking out just as much as you were.

You both ran to the parking lot, jumping into Charlie’s Porsche Speedster before the blonde woman sped over to the medical building across the base.

It felt like you were waiting forever. Charlie was seated in one of the worn teal chairs while you wore a trail in the tail floor from pacing back and forth. No one would tell you or Charlie anything. Apparently, top security clearance meant nothing when it came to the medical ward being HIPPA compliant.

“Y/N… Sit down, honey.” She patted the seat next to her. you took up her offer, feet in pain from the hours of pacing in your heels.

Charlie wrapped her arm around you pulling you into a comforting hug. With all the time you spent with her at Top Gun, the two of you had become close. “I… I can’t lose him, Charlotte…” You could feel tears stinging your eyes. You had yet to cry in the hours between the crash and now, too mentally shocked for your body to produce tears.

Before she could speak any words of comfort a nurse walked into the room.

"Charlotte, Charlotte Blackwell? I have a Pete Mitchel requesting you.”

She looked over at you with empathetic eyes. “Do you want me to stay with you…”

“No, go…” you gave your best attempts at a weak smile. You watched as she followed the nurse. You rested your head in your hands.

Your mind began to fling itself into worst-case scenarios. What if he’s… he’s… Before you could finish that thought you heard your name. “Y/N, Y/N Y/LN.” You shot up to be greeted by the sight of another nurse. “I have a Nick Bradshaw requesting you.” You stood up and followed her down the sterile hallways. Relief had yet to grace your tense mind or body.

The walk to his room felt like it took even longer than your stay in the waiting room. Your mind was deathly quiet, refusing to think of what state Nick could possibly be in.

The nurse stopped in front of a closed door, “You can go on in.”

You paused for a brief moment before opening the door. You walked down the small hallway that led to the open space that was Nick’s room. You were greeted by Nick laying upright in his hospital bed. His eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you. “Honey!” He made an attempt to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“Don’t move.” You rushed over to the chair next to his bed, pulling it as close as you could before taking a seat. Nick immediately grabbed your hand and kissed the top gently before pulling you just a bit closer so he could gently kiss your lips.

You pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of the fresh stitches on his forehead, his disheveled blonde hair, and the few bruises and scrapes along his arms. “How are you…” Your voice was soft, much softer than you intended.

“Head’s a little fuzzy. They’ve been scanning, poking, and prodding at me since I got here. As far as they can tell I was lucky to walk away with just a mild concussion and a couple of scrapes and bruises.” His tone is nonchalant as ever and one that you feared you would never get to hear again.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as tears began to spill over onto your cheeks.

“Honey, honey…” He gently grabbed both sides of your face, wiping the tears that began to stain your cheeks away with his thumb. “I’m okay, everything is fine.” He gently pulled you closer to him, making space for you on the bed.

Without a second thought, you climbed in next to him almost scared to touch him for fear he might break or disappear.

Nick appeared to have read your thoughts. “Come here,” he pulled you closer to him, allowing your head to rest on his chest. “I-I was so scared… I thought I lost you…”

“Common now.” Nick brushed the tears away from your cheeks. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” He tilted your chin up and gave you that big smile that always made your heart flutter.

“Hey before you get too comfortable, can you do me a favor.”

You looked up at him and nodded, “anything…”

“Hand me my flight suit, it’s hanging in the bathroom.”

You looked at him with slight confusion. “Sure…” You got up and walked a little way down the small hallway to the on-suite bathroom. As you were grabbing the suit for reasons unknown to you, you heard some rustling. You grabbed the suit and made your way back Nick. He was now standing beside the bed. “Nicky, you should really be laying down…”

“I’m fine, now sit.” You handed him the flight suit and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Now close your eyes, I don’t need you seeing my bare ass in the hospital gown.”

You couldn’t help but giggle and roll your eyes but the expression on his face was a serious one, or at least as serious as he could muster. “Okay, okay.” You placed your hands over your eyes as your head rustles come from your boyfriend.

“Now Mav said I was crazy… Don’t open your eyes yet.” He said as if reading your mind once more. “But I know when a thing is right.”

“Nicky what are you talking about.” There was a moment of silence, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes. You were greeted by the sight of Nick in his hospital gown on one knee with a small black box in his hands.

“Nicky…”

Before you could form a coherent thought, “look I knew the last 9 weeks, have been a whirlwind, the last several hours especially. But I know then a thing is right and Y/N this is right.” Nick opened the small black bock revealing a small diamond ring on a single band. “Y/N L/N… Will you make me the happiest man this side of the Mississippi?”

You stared at the ring and then back at the blonde holding it. “Nicholas Bradshaw, are you asking me to marry you?”

He looked at you then back to the ring as if to confirm the answer for himself, before looking back up at you. ”Well, this is not exactly how I had planned to do it. But yes, yes, I am. If you’ll have me.”

More tears began to prick your eyes before you began to franticly nod. “Yes, yes, one-thousand times yes!” With a smile wider the tarmac, Nick placed the ring onto your ring finger. You practically jumped into the aviator’s arms as he stood up. His hands quickly made perches on your hips before his lips met yours.

He smiled against your lips before pulling slightly away so he could look into your eyes. “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw.” “I love you too. Mr. Bradshaw.”

Epilogue

Tags: @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @belleroguewolf @goosegirl98 @desert-fern @bellamy1998

While this series may be over, I am in the works on some Hangman fics!

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

For You I’ll Fight

Bruce Wayne x Reader (she/her)

Summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Bruce for a while. When the two of you get kidnapped by Jeremiah, you realize that your feelings might be reciprocated after all.

Word count: 3.54k

Warnings: guns, kidnapping, death threats (it’s Jeremiah after all), blood mention, angst, angst with happy ending, cursing

Requested by: @eggsandhammers

Request: Hiii I’m new to requests so if I do anything wrong please tell me! Could I request a gotham!bruce x reader(civilian, so like not a superhero) where her and Bruce get kidnapped by Jeremiah? Angst with happy ending please!!!! Maybe he confesses his love for her once they are safe

I really hope you enjoy this fic! I’m sorry it took longer to write. Unfortunately, I had an IRL crisis to solve and that kinda made writing difficult.

I had lot of fun writing this fic and I kinda want to rewatch Gotham again because this brought back a lot of feels and so much nostalgia. I forgot how much I love not only Bruce but just the whole Gotham universe.

I hope you enjoy this fic and that it was worth the wait! The title is from the song “I’ll Fight” by Daughtry and I think it fits the whole vibe really well. Protective Bruce for the win lol.

If you have other ideas for requests, feel free to send me an ask or a message! 😊 You can check my pinned post to see when my requests are open.

Being friends with someone as famous as Bruce Wayne brought its issues. A horde of paparazzi usually followed the two of you whenever you went out together. A few days later, you’d see your picture plastered across the Gotham Gazette and people would speculate if you were his new lover or something like that.

It was truly obnoxious and just extremely uncomfortable. They’d always dig for any information they could find, sometimes exposing things from your past that were truly nobody’s business.

This time however, the issue wasn’t paparazzi.

To be fair, you wished that were the case. You’d be a lot less scared of paparazzi since you were already familiar with their antics.

This time, you’d been kidnapped.

You’d met up with Bruce earlier, sitting on a bench in the park together, just talking.

You still remembered laughing at one of his stupid jokes when someone had pressed a hand over your mouth and nose from behind. Next thing you knew, you’d awoken in some old building, tied to a chair.

You struggled against your restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. The rope dug into your arms, and the more you moved and wiggled, the further the restraints tightened around your body. It only increased your desperation.

“Bruce,” you called, your voice cracking from not having used it in a while. The word scratched in your throat. You tried to clear it but that didn’t help.

“Bruce! Bruce!”

A spotlight lit up to your left. It illuminated the shadowy silhouette of a person you didn’t recognize.

Until they spoke.

“Poor Y/n, looking for our dear Bruce… But where is he? Bruce! Bruce, where are you?”

Fear prickled down your spine. There was only one person who sounded like that.

Another spotlight turned on. The personification of your darkest nightmares was wearing a purple suit, grinning at you with so much cruelty in his smile that it made you sick.

Jeremiah Valeska.

For some reason, the lyrics to You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch flashed through your mind. It would’ve made you laugh if the situation had been different. Nevertheless, the lyrics suited Jeremiah.

You’re a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You got termites in your smile. You have all the sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch.

A screen lit up to your right, across from the small stage Jeremiah was apparently standing on. The light blinded you and you couldn’t see anything. You squeezed your eyes shut, blinking against the bright sensation.

Slowly, very slowly, the picture became clearer.

Your stomach sank.

Bruce.

He was also tied to a chair, just like you, and his head had dropped forward onto his chest. He hadn’t woken up yet.

Jeremiah didn’t like that. You could see it in the way his smile dropped, how angrily he stared at the screen. As time ticked by and Bruce still didn’t move, Jeremiah’s sickly white face slowly contorted into a grotesque expression of rage.

“Bruce!” he screamed. His loud voice, amplified by the microphone, rang in your ears.

You wanted to cover them with your hands to block out the noise but due to the ropes tying you down that was impossible. You grimaced.

Bruce blinked, slowly waking up from whatever you’d been given to sedate you. His movements were sluggish, like time was moving slower for him. As if he was stuck in a movie scene.

Bruce’s head shot up and he looked straight into the camera. You didn’t know what he was seeing. He narrowed his eyes, anger overtaking his usually soft features.

“Where’s Y/n! What is this??”

Your eyes wandered to Jeremiah, who grinned his evil smirk with a dash of madness. Your stomach twisted.

You got termites in your smile…

“Oh Bruce, don’t worry. Your dear Y/n is right here, she’s unharmed.”

Jeremiah paused dramatically before adding, “For now.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. Recognition flashed over his handsome face, only to be replaced by a fury that made you want to hide.

You’d never seen Bruce like this before.

“Jeremiah, if you hurt her I swear you’ll regret it!”

Your mouth opened on its own, the desire to calm him down too strong to fight it. You just wanted to see the rage disappear from Bruce’s eyes. You couldn’t bear to see him like that.

“Bruce, I’m okay, don’t worry! I–“

You were staring down the barrel of a gun before you could even finish your sentence.

Jeremiah shot you a twisted smile filled with far too much joy. He jumped down from the stage and walked over to your chair, never lowering the gun. His movements were those of a predator, like a tiger on the prowl.

“Shut up.”

Jeremiah turned back towards the screen, still pointing the gun at you. “I recommend you hurry up and find us, or else your dear Y/n might end up bleeding out on the floor.”

He paused, and you could almost see the manic grin break out on his face, even though the back of his head was turned to you. When he spoke again his voice was lower, closer to a whisper but without losing its threatening tone.

“You remember what I did to Selina, don’t you?”

Bruce’s eyes widened. Actual fear spread over his face as he started thrashing against the ropes, desperately trying to get free.

Jeremiah made a noise.

You frowned, unable to figure out what it was.

He turned back towards you, a twisted kind of joy on his face, and it clicked. Jeremiah was giggling. He found Bruce’s and your pain funny.

“You sick asshole!” you spat.

The joyful look disappeared from Jeremiah’s face. He narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressed tightly together into a thin line. He cocked his head just barely but it was still enough to know you’d crossed a line.

Jeremiah turned his back towards the screen and came even closer, pressing the barrel of the gun to your forehead.

The cold material sent a prickling sensation of pure fear down your spine. You balled your hands into fists, biting your lip to not let out any noise that could set Jeremiah off even more.

Jeremiah leaned down, his face right in front of yours.

“You know… Last time I caught Bruce on a date with his girlfriend, I shot her in the stomach. She almost bled out on the floor...”

He giggled again, removing the gun from your forehead and pressing your chin upwards with it to make you look at his face.

“She survived.” Jeremiah paused, the signature wide grin breaking out on his face that you were so familiar with by now. “This time, I’ll make sure to do it right.”

Your stomach twisted painfully. You struggled against the ropes again, unable to get out of them.

Even if you’d been able to get free, what would you have done? Jeremiah had a gun. You’d be dead before you could take a single step.

A loud crashing noise made your head twist towards the screen that showed Bruce. He wasn’t sitting on his chair anymore. Instead, he was laying on the floor, on the broken pieces that seemed to be the remains of his wooden chair.

Bruce must have let himself fall backwards to break it…

Jeremiah whipped his head around towards the screen. He let out a growl. You weren’t sure if he was happy that something was finally happening, or if he was angry that Bruce had managed to escape.

You stared at the screen anxiously, scared that Bruce had hurt himself. But he got up, shaking off the rope before he stormed out of the camera’s view.

You took a deep breath of relief. Bruce was on his way.

He’d come and find you, and then you’d get out of here.

The relieved feeling disappeared instantly as you caught sight of Jeremiah’s wide grin. He smiled at you, casually playing with his gun. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that Bruce had gotten free – quite the opposite: he was happy about it.

Jeremiah wanted to fight Bruce, for whatever reason.

You felt the urge to throw up, but the only thing that would’ve come up was the ice-cream Bruce had bought for you before you’d sat down in the park together.

Tears burned in your eyes as you remembered how much fun you’d been having. Bruce always managed to make you happy, no matter how bad you might feel about life in that moment. Even if everything sucked, he was always there to cheer you up.

Sometimes, he’d take you out to the park just to sit with you in silence if that was what you wanted. Or you’d go to a restaurant and have a nice evening, just the two of you talking about a teacher who’d pissed you off or something random that Alfred had done.

You’d realized a while ago that you were in love with Bruce. Today in the park, you were planning to finally tell him, no matter how fast your heart would be beating or how scared you’d be.

None of that had happened. Here you were now, stuck in the claws of Jeremiah Valeska, who could do whatever he wanted to you while you were waiting for Bruce to come and rescue you.

You’d always hated a lot of action movies for putting the (usually female) characters into the position of a damsel in distress. It was ridiculous and, quite frankly, it really pissed you off.

You’d never expected to get stuck in a situation like that yourself.

Rage burned in the pit of your stomach. You internally cursed whatever deity you could think of for making this happen – if you believed in that stuff or not. It was the only thing you had left to do, being angry at life.

Otherwise you’d end up losing your mind.

Screams of pain erupted outside, the sounds of people fighting. You craned your neck trying to see what was happening but the screen shielded the doorway from your eyes.

Jeremiah took a step towards the screen, his hands playing with the gun between his gloved fingers. The way he moved once again reminded you of a tiger on the prowl, slow and dangerous. Your hands clenched around the armrests of your chair.

The noise outside stopped.

You stared at the edge of the screen, hoping that you would see just a little bit of what was happening. Hoping against all odds that Bruce would just step out from behind the screen, wrap you up in his arms and carry you out of here – no matter how silly that was.

Unfortunately, you also knew Jeremiah would never let that happen.

The aforementioned Mr. Grinch took a few steps towards the screen, the gun ready in his hand. He was moving slowly, carefully, ready to attack at the slightest hint of danger.

Your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your hands into fists, anxiously staring at Jeremiah’s back. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see anything except the dark purple fabric of his suit. You’d never look at that color the same way again.

Something shifted behind you, nothing more than a brush of air against your neck. A second later, someone was gripping the ropes around your wrists, pulling at them.

You gasped, the sound far too loud for the silence of the room.

A hand shot up, covering your mouth, while a low voice hissed into your ear.

“Shhhh!”

You stopped struggling immediately. Your eyes grew wide but you didn’t dare turn your head or look down, too scared that Jeremiah might notice your movement.

Bruce.

He slowly removed his hand from your mouth, then went back to untying the ropes as quickly as he could.

You tried to keep your breathing even as you looked ahead for Jeremiah. He had disappeared behind the screen, still searching for Bruce.

The ropes were almost loose when Bruce froze, prompting you to crane your head in a desperate attempt to see what was happening.

“Well, would you look at that – Brucie really tried to save his poor Y/n… Too bad it didn’t work.”

Jeremiah pushed Bruce into your line of vision, pressing the gun against his temple. He wrapped his free arm around Bruce’s neck, pulling him closer until he was standing behind him, holding Bruce in a headlock.

You shrieked in fear.

Jeremiah grinned at you. He shifted his weight, running the gun over Bruce’s cheek almost lovingly.

You wanted to throw up.

“Look, Y/n. He's trying so hard to be your hero… Isn't that cute?"

Bruce struggled against Jeremiah’s grip, trying to get free but failing.

You gritted your teeth. The sound of Jeremiah’s voice alone was enough to send a shiver down your spine, making you want to hide and pray he wouldn't find you.

"Jeremiah, let her go! You want me, don't you? Well, you have me. Let her go!" Bruce's voice cracked with desperation.

Jeremiah just made a tsk sound, shaking his head. He tightened his grip around Bruce’s neck, slowly pointing the gun at you while he spoke.

The low rumble of his voice gave you goosebumps.

“Now, why would I do that? Why would I just hurt you when I can torture you… by hurting her?”

Jeremiah’s finger curled around the trigger.

You couldn’t look away. You stared at the gun, barely able to breathe while your heart hammered against your ribcage.

Any minute now, it would all be over…

Heavy footsteps steadily moved towards the door.

Jeremiah whipped his head in the direction of the sound. He frowned, his face contorting into a grimace.

A high pitched noise hit your ears and you cringed away from the sound.

“Jeremiah Valeska!”

Jim Gordon’s unmistakable voice echoed through the door, amplified by a megaphone.

“Stand down. Let the hostages go. You’re surrounded!”

Relief flooded through your body. The feeling was so intense that you grew light-headed.

You’d never been so happy to hear Jim’s voice.

Jeremiah looked back and forth between Bruce, the door and you. He growled angrily.

“This isn’t over, Brucie!”

Jeremiah pushed Bruce away from him with force, making him stumble. Then he ran away – right as GCPD officers stormed into the room.

Jim Gordon headed straight for you while the others scouted the area to make sure there were no other threats. He knelt before your chair, looking at you with worry in his eyes.

“Hey Y/n. Are you okay?”

A whimper escaped your lips when you tried to respond. Seeing Jim felt like a miracle. It was unreal.

Jim cut the ropes and carefully helped you stand up. He gripped your arms when you lost your balance, wrapping one arm around your waist to keep you steady.

Everything you’d been through crashed down on you as you felt the warmth of Jim’s body next to yours. The kidnapping, the fear.

“Bruce…”

Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Where was Bruce? Was he okay?

Did Jeremiah hurt him, did he–

You were trembling.

Bruce appeared in front of you, pulling you into his arms. He was breathing heavily and his hair was a mess, his clothes ripped.

But he was alive.

You threw your arms around him, clinging to him for dear life. Tears stung in your eyes as the realization slowly set in – you were safe. Everything was alright.

Bruce returned the hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His shaky breath hit your skin as he held you with just as much desperation. His shoulders slowly fell and he relaxed into the embrace, his breathing slowing down until he was just holding you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You buried your face in his shirt, trying your best to breathe slowly. Trying to remind yourself that it was over – Jeremiah was gone. He couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“It’s okay,” Bruce mumbled, “you’re safe.”

He slowly lifted his head, shifting his weight so he could raise a hand to your face. His fingers stroked over the skin of your cheek.

A shiver went down your spine.

You slowly looked up at Bruce. Your heart stumbled in your chest. He was staring at you with what you could only describe as awe and adoration, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

Now that you were looking at Bruce, you couldn’t stop. You took in every tiny feature of his beautiful face – the dark eyebrows, his soft brown eyes, the tiny scar next to his nose where you’d once hit him with a pan by accident when you’d tried cooking something for Alfred…

Eventually, your gaze settled on Bruce’s lips and remained there. The desire to kiss him hit you in the gut with an intensity you’d never felt before.

“Y/n?”

Bruce looked at you with a light frown on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes trailed over your face with a hint of worry.

“Are you okay?”

You managed a nod, absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip. Before all of this insanity happened, you’d wanted to confess to him. Were you still brave enough to do it now?

Bruce must have mistaken your worries for fear. He lifted his other hand, cupping your face in his palms while he looked at you with soft but serious eyes. His brows furrowed together.

“You’re safe now. Jeremiah can’t get to you, don’t worry. I won’t ever let him touch you again, I swear.”

You smiled shakily, trying to suppress the shiver running up your spine. He just sounded so serious and protective… like he really meant it.

Bruce caressed your cheeks, his thumbs softly running over your skin. He just looked at you, the frown on his face disappearing and making space for what you could only describe as adoration.

The pure softness and – dare you say – love shining out of his warm brown eyes was overwhelming.

Bruce took a deep breath. His eyes wandered over your face, flickering to your lips for a second before he practically ripped his gaze away. He gulped, slowly opening his mouth.

“Y/n, I– There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while. I– I know this is a lot, especially after today but–“

You were listening with growing disbelief. Your heart hammered against your ribcage. Was he really saying what you thought he did?

Bruce lowered his head as if he was scared to look at you. “I love you.”

You couldn’t describe the chaotic emotions that battled in your chest. The confession rendered you speechless. You had to just stand in silence and breathe for a while.

“Really?” you finally managed to ask.

Bruce chuckled under his breath.

“Yes, really. I’ve been in love with you for years. And if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay–“

You cut him off, tugging him towards you by his sweater and pressing your lips to his.

Bruce froze.

He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around you as he returned the kiss with a passion that took your breath away.

You heard Jim’s voice somewhere in the background but it was muffled, as if it were coming from far away.

One of your hands grabbed hold of Bruce’s black sweater, pulling him even closer to you. He tightened his arm around you in return, cupping the back of your head with his other hand.

Butterflies fluttered wildly in your stomach.

Bruce slowly broke the kiss. He didn’t pull away from you completely, just lingered, his lips inches from yours. Your shaky breaths mingled.

You just stared at him for a moment, still caught up in the feeling of Bruce’s lips on yours.

Jim loudly cleared his throat.

“This is so cute and I’m glad you’re finally together – but you should really go home. You need to process what happened.”

You forced yourself to look away from Bruce and nodded.

“Thank you.” you said softly, hoping it could express not only how grateful you were that Jim had come to rescue you, but also that he cared about you enough to want you to be safe.

Jim gave you a small smile before he walked back over to the GCPD officers to check in with them.

You reached for Bruce’s hand, smiling to yourself when he locked his fingers with yours.

“Do you need to call Alfred?”

Bruce nodded. He borrowed a phone from one of the officers and dialed Alfred’s number. He had to sit through a long lecture about safety and how he had endangered you as well, before Alfred finally hung up.

You grinned in amusement when Bruce gave back the phone and looked at you with exaggerated annoyance.

His face quickly softened as he lifted his free hand, swiping his thumb over your cheek.

“I meant what I said, you know,” he said in a low voice, “I love you and I will protect you, whatever happens.”

You leaned into his touch, smiling softly while you looked at Bruce.

“I love you too.”

Finally being able to say it out loud felt almost unreal.

A bright grin spread over Bruce’s face in response. He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you softly.

You buried your hands in his hair, closing your eyes as everything around you faded away. The only thing that mattered was Bruce.

If being with him felt like this, you couldn’t wait for what the future would bring.

More of my stuff

Fandoms I write for

[24hlevi]

can i just say that i've just finished reading that angst headcanons/imagines/scenarios or whatever it's supposed to be called about the boys reacting to y/n dying and i'm just...i'm just a sobbing mess.

it's well-written so 1000/10 for that, but whY MUST YOU ATTACK MY HEART IN THIS MANNER???? i love your work, but my poor heart ack-

btw is there any possibility to ask for a request for a same scenario but for kazutora, mitsuya, and hanma? like for kazutora's part, imagine if it wasn't yknow who died but its y/n 🥲

omg you’re so nice first of all thank you 😭 and OMG YES

TR Boys Reaction To You Dying Pt. 2

Tokyo Revengers Boys (Kazutora, Shuji, & Takashi) X Gn!Reader

Genre: Pure Angst

Warnings: Swearing, Suicide (kind of? it’s what happened to baji did so idk what to label it as 🤷‍♂️)

Hanemiya Kazutora:

All Kazutora could think was that it was all his fault that this happened. He was too caught up in his own world that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. He didn’t even know you had shown up to the fight until he stabbed you instead of Baji.

“Y/n?” Kazutora asked, dropping the knife immediately when he saw you standing between him and Baji, blood dripping onto the ground below you. He completely froze, not knowing what he had just done or why he even did it. “Baby, are you okay?”

You held onto the stab wound, coughing up blood as you looked at your boyfriend. “I just wanted you…to stop.” You choked out before collapsing to your knees.

Everyone had stopped and was watching you by now, shocked that you had even protected Baji from both sides when your whole body landed on the car below you. Spitting blood out of your mouth, you laid on your back, staring up at the blue sky that was dusted with white clouds.

“Y/n!”

You heard multiple people yell your name, but you couldn’t even tell who it was until you saw Kazutora kneeling beside you. “Y/n! Keep your eyes open, okay?!”

You shook your head from side to side, raising your hand to put it on Kazutora’s face before quietly speaking, “Give it to me, the knife.”

“What? Why? Look, Y/n you just gotta stay awake okay?” Kazutora spoke fast, clearly freaking out on both the outside and inside, not even caring about the gang fight anymore.

“Hand it over, Kazutora.” You said his full name which caused him to go quiet, staring down at you with saddened eyes before handing you the knife that already had your blood on it. “Thank you, babe. I love you.” You told him.

“I love you too, Y/n.” Kazutora said to you.

You bundled up your shirt at the top, putting it in your mouth so you had something to bite down on before plunging the knife into your stomach and twisting it around, then pulling it back out and dropping it.

Kazutora wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as you lived your last moments, and he couldn’t even say anything. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I always will love you.” Was all he said after you died.

Kazutora then took the blame for killing you, resulting im him ending up in jail again but he wasn’t angry about it. He was just sad. So sad that he didn’t even try to get out of jail and get back into the gang life. He just sat around, continuously saying,

“It’s all my fault.”

Hanma Shuji:

Shuji swore that he would never allow you to get hurt while he was away doing gang activities that he didn’t want you included in. That’s why he always had someone beside you and a bodyguard to make sure you would always be safe. But even then, it didn’t work.

It was half past 1 in the morning when Shuji’s phone rang while he was with the other Valhalla members, beating up some random other gang member. Shuji stopped punching the other male, standing up straight and took his phone out of his pocket and opened it, answering. “Yes?”

“Shuji…”

Shuji’s breath hitched when he heard your shaky and quiet voice, and he immediately knew that something was wrong. “Y/n? Where are you, darling? Is something wrong?”

“I’m…at home. B-But someone..got in.” You tried your best to reply, but it was coming out shaky and slow. 

“I’ll be there in five minutes. I promise, baby. Okay? I love you.” Shuji told you before turning around and looking at everyone, taking the phone away from his ear. “Kazutora, you’re in charge until I get back, understand? As for everyone else, just do what you’re told.” He said to everyone, proceeding to then walk out and make his way onto the streets when he started to sprint down the different roads. 

Now he was just making sure that he made it to your place in five minutes like he said he would, which usually he would be able to do easily, but he was more determined now that he had heard something had gone wrong whilst he was away. Upon reaching your place, he saw the front door opened already and he quickly rushed inside. “Y/n?! Baby, where are you?!” He called out as he started to run through every room in the house. 

He finally made it to your room where you laid on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath you as you were taking shallow and slow breaths. “Y/n!” Shuji yelled out your name, going over to you and kneeling down beside you. He grabbed you and lifted you up, holding you in his arms as he checked for your pulse. When he felt it he let out a sigh of relief but it was very weak and barely noticeable which made him realize he probably only had a few more moments with you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For not being here when I should have. I’m so fucking stupid, I should have just stayed here with you. I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry.” Shuji said to you, his voice cracking halfway through as tears welled up in his eyes.

You looked up at him and smiled lightly despite you dying in his arms. “It’s okay, Shuji. Don’t...blame yourself. I still love you.” You had never seen the boy cry before, that’s how you knew that he did really love you, that he wasn’t just saying it so he could manipulate or get things from you. 

“I love you too.” Shuji whispered out. 

Soon enough, your head went limp and your eyes were stuck open, all of the life drained from your face as blood dirtied the floor and Shuji’s clothes. “Y/n? Y/n? Wake up, please.” The boy pleaded to your now deceased body, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get you back. Not ever again. 

Shuji became what you would have never wanted him to become, a terrible person who killed anyone if they even looked at him the wrong way, and most importantly, one that drank all of his feelings after the day was over, crying to himself over your death still. 

Because he would never get you back. And he regretted that the most.

Mitsuya Takashi:

Takashi was the most important person in your life, just like you were to him. He had told you on multiple occasions that he wanted to be with you forever. And he thought it would really happen. Boy, was he wrong. So, so wrong. 

You two were walking down the busy street, eating street food while going inside stores and just admiring the night scenery. Everything was going perfectly normal, until it all changed within a few seconds. 

“Hey, babe?” Takashi said, looking over at you.

“Yeah?” You repled. 

“Do you wanna get married some day in the future?” 

The question that came out of your boyfrien’s mouth shocked you, and you didn’t know how to reply. You both were still teenagers, how the hell were you supposed to know? “Only if it’s you I’m marrying.” You aswered with a smile. 

Takashi smiled back and pressed his lips against yours before pulling away quickly after. “Same here.” He told you. 

Suddenly, car tires screeched on the black cement road and one zoomed around, an all black van. It’s windows opened and guns pointed out of them before they started to fire. Takashi quickly wrapped his body around you and covered you with his, not even caring if he would end up getting killed because of it. 

After the car drove off, Takashi looked at you and asked in a frantic voice, “Y/n, are you okay?”

You looked at him, then down to your side, shaking your head as you spat out blood. Takashi’s eyes widened as he yelled out your name, but you had collapsed onto the ground, grabbing at your abdomen where the gunshot wound was, blood beginning to soak through your clothes and onto the sidewalk below you. 

“No, no, no. Y/n! Stay with me!” He yelled, taking his phone out of his pocket and about to call the polce when you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “What?”

“Don’t. It’s okay.” You told him, a small smile on your face. 

“It’s not okay! I can’t lose you! We-We just talked about getting married some day!” The boy continued to yell.

“Maybe...in another life, we will.” You spoke barely above a whisper, your vision starting to darken and turn blurry. “I love you, Mitsuya Takashi.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” Takashi replied to you but you didn’t respond. “Y/n?” He reached his hand over and shook you gently, and when you didn’t move he looked at your face, then realizing that you were gone. He sat on the ground, and put his hands over his face, beginning to cry. 

Takashi cried and mourned over your death everyday, despite people telling him to move on. He just couldn’t. He would never be able to find someone he would love like he loved you. He knew that. So that’s how it remained the rest of his life. Lonely, and depressed. 

[cjjohansson]

YOU'RE IT FOR ME

SUMMARY ; you and Natasha argue over your mission gone wrong.

supersolider!reader x natasha romanoff

angst/fluff.

fighting/blood/injury/swearing word count;3.4k - this is my first ever attempt at writing anything. im so sorry if its terrible.

As always Steve woke you up at stupid oclock in the morning to brief you on a quick unexpected intel mission. He told you the base you were being sent to has not long been abandoned and if anyone was there, to eliminate the threat like you always do. Lucky for you, you had super-solider serum running through your veins so this mission was simple and easy for you to complete alone. You only had to retrieve some files on HYDRA creating another super-solider serum.

However Natasha wasn’t too happy about you being woken up so early meaning she had to wake up to a cold bed and you were nowhere to be seen throughout the whole compound. She looked around for you everywhere only to end up running quite literally into Steve, he obviously knew who she was looking for and finally spoke up, “Oh, if you're looking for Y/N, they went on a quick mission.”

“What do you mean a ‘quick mission’, they would have come to say bye?” Natasha responded suspiciously due to the fact that you would never leave without saying bye or giving her a quick peck on her lips regardless of how long the mission would take.

“A quick intel mission, the only person I could see who had potential in succeeding was them. Woke them up 3 hours ago, they should be back within 2. They’re fine Natasha, you don't need to worry.” Steve thought to quickly remind her that you were more than capable than going on a mission alone and that you certainly didn't need to be worried about, you’re a super-solider for god sake.

“OK, just next time notify me too when they’re going so I'm not walking around looking.” Natasha walked away straight after that proceeding to the training room to blow off some steam about the fact that you didn’t say bye.

Meanwhile

you had got to the base a little over 2 hours ago, and when Steve told you this base was abandoned you had no idea why you actually decided to believe him. The base was in fact NOT abandoned and within the first 10 minutes of you slowly making your way to the base from the quinjet you was swarmed with at least 10 HYDRA agents. You worked as quickly as you could taking out the threats left right and centre with your guns and some quite literally being thrown straight into some trees. You managed to get the agents down in record time, you was quite impressed with yourself to say the least but you knew you should call for backup, you reached for your comms only to be met with a sickening buzzing sound surrounding your ear drums, you threw your ear piece onto the floor and just continued towards the base. At the end of the day you still had a mission to complete after all.

You finally made your way into the base to see that maybe Steve was right about one thing: the base itself was abandoned but the surroundings were not. “Idiot” you thought to yourself about Steve sending you on a mission with not all accurate information.

You’re making your way through the base using your enhanced hearing for anything that doesn't sound right, guess it's somewhat of your lucky day when you hear nothing so you continue your path down the long narrow corridor to finally reach the head scientists room to gather the files about HYDRAs own knowledge on developing a new form of super-solider serum. You always wondered why people had an obsession with powered and enhanced people but at the same time you understood why. You just wished yours wasn't forced on to you and that you were given a choice but you were soon to be one of HYDRAs secret weapons, but when the Avengers found you, you had just been injected with the serum. The Avengers were infiltrating HYDRA bases when Lokis scepter had been stolen, they found you just in time and took you in straight away.

Plugging in the usb drive to transfer all data, the transfer popping up onto the screen telling you that it would take 10 minutes, “Easy enough.” that's what you had thought until you could hear footsteps coming from down the corridor. Quite heavy, long strides, possibly over 6ft tall, only one person, even better. You made your way to hide behind the door so when it opened you could attack right away, but that never came. Instead a metal arm came crashing through the wall you were standing up against grabbing you by the throat and throwing you half way down the corridor, it took you a moment for you to try and stand up but by the time you was about to stand a fist was already being swung towards your face, keeping you locked on the floor below him. You knew this soldier was like you, you could feel it but you also knew that you might not get out of this fight easily, they were much stronger. That face looked familiar, the blurring of your vision from the hits making it harder to properly see but you knew it was familiar. The beating continued with left and right hooks being thrown against your face, the blood rushing out of new cuts across your face, your busted lip and most likely broken nose. You couldn't give up. You knew that for sure. You managed to find the strength to start dodging the punches coming right at you but you knew you needed to get that drive and get going quickly. Rolling out from underneath the soldier as they went to drive their metal arm straight into your face you grabbed your gun and shot the soldier in the stomach and sprinted  back to the room to collect the usb and get going, you knew it was the only way to run rather than end up dying here alone. You finally reached the doors of the base to continue your sprint when you heard that sound of a bullet coming straight out of a gun, it buried itself right into the back of your left leg but you had to keep moving, the blood gushing from your face and now from your leg reminded you to definitely tell Steve to “fuck off” when he comes into your room before the suns even up again. Continuing the sprint, you started to only imagine one thing. That Natasha was going to have your head when you got back to the compound.

You could see the quinjet right in front of you and you had never been so happy to see one so much in your life but just as you was to step one foot onto the jet another two shots were heard behind you, you KNEW this soldier wasn't going to give up and you definitely knew they would keep up with you. The bullets finally lodged themselves into your body, one straight into your right leg and the other straight into your lower back coming out through your stomach. This wasn't good. You were just about on the jet pulling yourself up as the option to stand wasn't even an option anymore, telling FRIDAY to close the hatch and get in the air and back to the compound as quickly as it could and make sure to have medical on stand by as you land. Moving yourself to try and sit in one of the chairs holding pressure to your gunshot wound in your stomach, you heard a familiar voice ring through the speakers of the jet.

“Y/N come in, do you copy?” Natasha. Just as you go to open your mouth to reply your vision starts to blur and all that you manage to croke out are inaudible slurs, until your vision completely goes black.

To say Natasha was pissed off at Steve and you was an understatement. Oh if looks could kill Steve would already be 6 foot under. They stood on the landing pad waiting for the quinjet to arrive back at the compound but what they were expecting was not what they finally saw when the door to the quinjet opened. There you laid on the floor, choking on the air and laying in a puddle of your own blood, paler than anything they had ever seen. Before Steve and Natasha could even make it to the quinjet fully, the medical team were rushing in and putting you on a stretcher taking you straight into surgery. Natasha didn’t even make a move she stood there completely lost with that imagine in her head, but as soon as a doctor shouted you had no pulse it was like she was snapped back into reality her body was on flight mode, she made the move to try and run to you as quickly as possible but Steve had already grabbed her round the waist and was holding back against her vicious punches and kicks shouting at him to ‘let her go or he will regret it’. The sounds of Natashas shouting soon caught the ears of some of the other Avengers, running outside one by one came Wanda, Bucky and Sam. Confused by the commotion until they finally heard the sobs of Natasha in Steve's arms and the puddle of blood in the quinjet, they instantly knew this was about you.

Natasha had been pacing around the waiting room for 2 hours now, everyone telling her, you're ok and the surgery will be over with soon. But they didn't know if you were ok and when the surgery would be over they just wanted Natasha to sit down and stop pacing. Just as Natasha finally took a seat a doctor walked straight in front of them staring at Natasha.

“Are they alive?” Natashas voice coming out weak filled the waiting room, the anxiety from the question entering everyone's mind to know the truth.

“Yes”

They all finally let out a breath none of them knew they were holding. Natasha finally looks down and letting some more silent tears roll down her cheeks, she looks up at the doctor.

“Can I see them?” no one has ever heard Natasha sound so weak and vulnerable, they all knew yous were together, yous never kept it a secret openly flirting in front of everyone and you making it very clear who Natasha was to you at parties when you'd go up to her at the bar and put your arms around her waist and start slowly kissing her neck no matter who she was involved in a conversation with. But no one had ever seen this side of your relationship, the hard side of worrying and panicking when one of you was injured or on a mission. The vulnerable side and lets just say you and Natasha were not ones to let people see you both so small and fragile.

Following the doctor into another room there you laid on the bed your stomach wrapped tightly and also your legs, the bruising on your face a nice bright purple. Your skin had slowly started to have more colour in and Natasha had never been so relieved. She made her way over slowly towards your bed afraid any type of sound would wake you up. She wanted you to rest, but part of her wanted to shout and scream at you for not calling for backup or even just turning around and coming back home. Turns out she wasn't as quiet as the sound of the chair moving wakes you up from your sleep.

The bright lights make you hiss and groan. You make your way to sit up thinking it was all a dream, that is until you feel two sets of hands on each side of your body pushing you down.

“Lay back down y/n, you're hurt.” Natasha, there it is again that sweet voice you've spent months waking up too, but it's different. It sounds broken like she has been crying and is about too again at any given moment. Opening your eyes was a struggle but you finally got there. In the room stood Steve, Wanda, Sam and Bucky and sat next to you ever so gently holding your hand is your Natasha. You go to turn towards Natasha but Bucky catches your eye, everyone sees the hesitance in whether or not you want to finally speak.

“He looked like you.” that's all you manage to choke out before Nat is passing you a cup of water to drink slowly. Everyone starts to look around confused straight from you back to Bucky. Until you finally speak up again.

“The guy that attacked me at the base, thanks Steve by the way maybe next time send two people instead of one into an ‘abandoned’ base, yeah abandoned my arse.” Everyone smiles at your sarcasm but quickly pushes that to the side to ask the question everyone is so desperate to know.

“Babe,what do you mean by he looked like Bucky?” ah, Natashas voice, you simply turned and smiled at her squeezing her hand.

“Well like I said Talia, he looked exactly like Buck. Metal arm, red star. Long black hair. All the facial features are the same but not the eyes, they just looked black. Was hard to know for definite with the amount of punches I was receiving but if no one was to know Bucky like we do, then people would be sure that the Winter Soldier is alive and well.”

Bucky stood there dumbfounded not even knowing what to say or even think, everyone just looks confused at what you’re saying it makes no sense but then again yous are all in a room with three super-soliders, a witch, a highly trained ex-assassin and a guy that has robotic wings for christ sake.

“Ok i think we should all take a break give Nat and y/n some space ok? Come on guys, we can debrief you later y/n/n yeah?” Steves the one to speak up this time probably too confused and tired to have this conversation.

“I know what you're gonna say Tasha, and i'm not in the mood to hear it so can we leave the telling off until tomorrow? Ok, thanks means a lot.”

“No. we are talking about this now so it can be over with and we can move forward. Its simple really y/n/n youre a fucking idiot!” her voice starts to get louder as she continues her rant.

“You call for backup no matter the excuse you call for it or you get back on that jet and come back home no mission is worth more than your life you know that! Ugh, i’m so fucking angry at you for being so fucking reckless! You could have died? Why can't you see that? Just because you have that serum it doesn't make you invincible you know that but you've acted it! All of this for some files? How can you expect me to not be upset or angry? You’re my partner, and i love you more than anything but when you act like this it makes me think if you are even thinking about me when youre risking your life for some stupid usb.” she looks away as she continues to cry, your brain now trying to process all of these words but also all of these emotions. Wait, did she just say she loves you? You have been together for nearly a year now and neither of you had even said that yet, you both knew it but never dared to say it.

“You love me?” it's your turn to choke out now, you know you love her but one minute she is calling you reckless and an idiot then she is telling you she loves you?

“Of course i love you, you fucking idiot!”

“Ok, ok, still mad i got it” she slowly turns to glare at you this time but she sees your tears slowly rolling down your face and she instantly softens her glare. You take her hands into yours and you know you have to say it back because if you don't she is going to be even more mad than what she already is and one thing you don't want to deal with right now is a mad girlfriend because she is so scary.

“Hey Talia, listen ok? I love you too. I do, I really do. I'm sorry i was reckless, i should have come back but it was like my body was on auto mode and yes like you said that isn't an excuse i know that ok. I thought i'd be ok on my own and well clearly i wasn't as i’m in a hospital bed but i’m here. I know we both worry when we go on separate missions and I know you probably worried more because I didn't come and say goodbye but I was hoping to be back by the time you woke up. Steve said it was abandoned and when I got off the jet and started walking no one was there and then I was ambushed by some guards but I took them down with ease and there was no one else in sight, my comms went off and they were buzzing and I just carried on. I needed to do this mission baby, I needed to get this information about the serum so we can try and stop HYDRA creating more soldiers and putting them through pain. I’m sorry I've hurt you, I didn't mean to do that, I was just doing my job but I'll tell Steve for next time that if i’m to go on a solo mission that you need to be with me ok? No more solo missions, not just for me but for everyone. We need to be safe. Especially with another Winter Soldier walking around like he owns the place ok? I love you Natalia, I’m sorry.” you've already lowered your head at this point too embarrassed by telling her we all need to be safe and that you love her.

You feel one of her hands move from yours, you think she is gonna walk out but instead you feel the softness of her fingertips tracing the bruising on your cheekbones before you even have the chance to hiss at the tender touch her lips are pressed so intensely against yours. You've kissed many times before but this kiss, it's just so different it's as if she is trying to tell you exactly how much she loves you and how much she is happy you're here just by this kiss. You move your hand up to her face and slowly move it round to play with the hairs at the back of her neck, she hums and slowly stops kissing you. You didn't want that kiss to end and you groan in frustration and she chuckles at your little outburst, Nat leans her forehead against yours and finally lets out a breath. You're ok, she knows it now.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a while forehead to forehead until you feel a shooting pain in your stomach, you hiss in pain and move away to lie back down on your back. Natasha is up in an instant thinking she has hurt you but you're quick to calm her nerves.

“Baby it's ok, just some pain. Come and lay with me, please?” you pull your puppy dog face, a face you know she cannot resist. She simply smiles and makes her way back over to the bed as you shuffle over to make room for her. The next minute you're both lying and she is snuggled into your side, your hand drawing patterns on her back and her arm ever so carefully laying above your wrapped stomach.

You understood why she was mad at you, you put your life on the line and didn't think twice about how she would feel with the consequences. You hated yourself for that, you knew you'd feel the same if it was her laying here injured and not you but it wasn't.

The room was silent, a comfortable silence. One you and Natasha both could just relax too.

“When I said I love you y/n, I truly meant it. You're it for me” she moved her head off your chest to look into your eyes, her eyes held so much emotion and you knew right then and there again like you had known for the past year that you were going to marry this woman.

“And you're it for me Natalia Alianovna Romanoff. I love you Talia, forever and always.”

[citrinesparkles]

welcome home.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 2,086 words. notes: requested by an incredibly flattering anon as part of my hundred followers celebration! thank you again for the feedback, and for enabling me :) also was subconsciously influenced by this piece. warnings: arguing, discussion of danger, reader gets accidentally threatened, patching up wounds, lots more swearing than my usual (but it's all mild language). angst and comfort, i think. super dialogue heavy. this is so long and a little (lot) messy just. prepare yourself

"man," a robotic voice echoed dangerously through the dark living room, sending chills through you. "did you pick the wrong apartment."

luckily, the voice was familiar. "um, the one i live in?"

he choked out your name, startled, and you flicked on the light switch to find him frozen in place with a gun in his hand.

"right." you said tensely, glancing at it- which made him jerk his hand down, shoving the gun into its holster as though it burned him- and looking back up at the eyes of his helmet. "so, uh, i'll turn a light on next time."

"you shouldn't be home yet," he said stiffly.

"i texted you like, three hours ago to let you know i'd be home a day early."

he swore quietly. "my phone's in the river."

"how did it- you know what, at least that explains the radio silence. you didn't think to have someone else- anyone else- let me know?"

"uh." he paused, tensing almost imperceptibly for a moment. "no. i was, uh, i was busy. i'm sorry."

"busy, huh?" something felt very wrong, and not just the fact that he had nearly shot you. "okay, i'll bite, busy with what?"

"nothing important."

the sinking feeling in your stomach intensified and your eyes narrowed dangerously. "important enough that you forgot to tell me you weren't dead in an alley somewhere, when you knew i'd be texting to check in anyway. leaving me worrying in a hotel room in another city."

"nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about." you were really getting sick of the sound of his modulator, but he continued before you could say anything. "go back to what you were doing, babe."

"yeah... uh, no." you stepped forwards and he flinched back defensively, making you freeze. "seriously, what is up with you tonight?"

"noth-"

"jason, i promise if you say nothing one more time, i'm going to lose my mind."

he shifted his foot back slightly, and you took a deep breath.

"okay," you conceded, raising your hands up in surrender and moving backwards yourself. "respecting your space now. that wasn't my best decis-"

your voice cut out when something under his jacket caught your eye.

something red.

"holy crap, jason, what the hell?"

he winced quietly. "you weren't supposed to be home yet, okay?"

"take that stupid helmet off already, would you?" you snapped, already moving to get the first aid kit.

"i would've gone somewhere else if i'd known, okay?" his voice, now clear and crisp without the filter, followed you down the hall.

"that does not make this better!"

"can you please not yell at me right now?"

you dashed back into the room, shooting a vicious glare at him. "jacket."

he slid it off gingerly, dropping it on the couch next to his helmet.

"can you get the armor, or do i need to help?"

even despite the domino mask he was wearing, you could tell he was rolling his eyes. "if i couldn't do it on my own, why would i have come here if i didn't think you'd be home?"

"hm," you took the piece he handed you and carefully set it on the couch, "maybe because you're a stubborn jackass?"

he grunted, sliding his undershirt off and passing it to you. "i don't wanna stain the couch with that."

"your priorities suck."

"it's the nicest piece of furniture we own!"

"it's still a couch!"

"it was expensive!"

"oh for crying out loud-" you threw your hands up again, this time in frustration. "fine! fine. i'll go put this in the tub and get a soak going. you-" you shoved the kit towards him pointedly- "start washing that off."

"how come you're calling the shots?" he snapped back petulantly.

"because my torso's in one piece."

"i have way more experience with this, i should be making the decisions here."

"oh, of course, my apologies!" your voice was absolutely dripping in sarcasm. "what, pray tell, would you have us do?"

he scowled at you for a moment before reaching for the first aid kit and flicking the lid open. "whatever."

you turned on your heel, stomping into the bathroom.

the shirt got thrown into the tub and the tap got tossed all the way on, and as the water crashed into the gray fabric, you took the opportunity to squeeze your eyes shut and breathe deeply.

you opened your eyes a minute later, finding the water dyed a rusty almost-red from blood.

his blood.

you turned off the tap- gently pushed the handle, this time, the fire in your chest now largely extinguished- and made your way back to the living room to find him running a rag over the space below his ribs.

"may i?" you asked softly, stopping a few feet away and holding a hand out to him.

his jaw clenched and relaxed three times in quick succession, but he finally sighed and dropped his shoulders before holding the rag out. "yeah, c'mere."

you worked in silence, being as gentle as possible. jerking your hand back and mumbling apologies when he hissed.

"s'okay, comes with the territory."

you pressed the alcohol-soaked towel back against him, and he sighed.

"that was stupid, huh."

a small laugh escaped you. "it so was."

"can we..."

"try that again?"

"yeah."

you pulled back, standing up straight to meet his eyes. "only if i can take the dumb mask off of you."

"i thought you liked the mask," he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"jason."

he chuckled, wincing again when it jostled his wounds. "ouch. uh, yeah, mask. g'head."

you gently pulled it from his face, setting it neatly on his other gear before running your thumbs across the line of adhesive it left on his cheekbones. "hi there."

"hey." he leaned into your touch, vibrant eyes fluttering halfway shut. "so uh, welcome home."

"thanks. could've done without the gun, though."

a choking sound tore from his throat, his eyes flying back open. "holy shit, baby, i almost-" he jerked back from you, no regard for his side. "you almost- shit, shit, are you- i'm so sorry, i didn't-"

"okay, woah, hey-"

"i could have killed you."

it was a whisper, horrified and harsh, and while it was technically true, his tone teetered on the edge of a dark space you had seen before and really didn't want him falling back into.

"yeah."

you desperately searched for the right thing to say, rejecting variations of "but hey, you didn't actually", "maybe you should be more careful about waving a gun at people", and one particularly unhelpful "no shit, sherlock".

finally, you settled on a quiet, calm "but i'm still right here, okay?"

his hand flew up to cover his mouth, doing absolutely nothing to hide the near panic written on his features. "i could have killed you."

"okay, so, in the future, we'll... we'll uh, we'll come up with some kind of system for letting you know when i'm home, or something."

"oh, like a phone?" he asked harshly. "the one i was stupid and sloppy enough to dunk in the harbor?"

"that wasn't- i'm guessing that you had a lot on your plate." you waved the cold, bloody towel in your hand at his wounds. it made him curl in on himself slightly, stepping backwards again until his back hit the arm of the couch.

"no excuses. i could have killed you."

"i-"

"no, i almost shot without saying anything!" he exclaimed, brow furrowed and eyes stormy. "i thought someone had broken in, and i got so- i don't even know, damn territorial or some stupid shit- that i almost put a bullet between your eyes. i could have-"

"jason!"

he screwed his eyes shut and dropped his head, roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. "i almost-"

"but you didn't. okay?" every fiber of your being wanted to hold him, to tug him into you and put his hand against your ribs and show him you were okay and breathing, heart still pumping, but he looked enough like a cornered animal that you half expected him to bite you if you tried. "c'mon, jaybird. a life like yours, can you really afford almosts?"

"life like mine, i can't afford to let anyone close to me. apparently, if the goons and thugs don't kill you, i will."

"that's not-"

"what if i hadn't said something?" he snapped venomously. "what if i'd lost more blood and was loopy from it? what if i'd come home with a concussion- again- and didn't think past 'point and shoot'?"

"jason," you finally interjected. "you think i haven't thought about that?"

his eyes, grim and vicious and so full of emotion that you thought you could drown in them, dropped to the floor.

"because it's not a secret that your life is risky. you're risky. i know that. but you're worth every ounce of danger, okay? i'm choosing this, choosing you, knowing full well what i'm getting into, because you're worth all of it."

"i'm not worth any of it."

"that's not your call to make."

"it-"

"you think i need you to make my choices for me?"

"no, of course not."

"you think im stuck here?"

"do you feel like you are?"

"absolutely not." you inched forward again. "i'm here because i want to be."

"...i just... i don't..."

"don't want me to get hurt?"

he finally looked back up at you, eyes watery and jaw tense. "or worse."

"i know, baby. i know," you sighed. "but that's part of life, right? and if the hurt's inevitable, i want the rest of my time to be as nice as possible, and you make my life better. make me better."

"by putting you in danger?"

"it's gotham, handsome, i'm gonna be in danger either way. at least with you, i know i have someone looking out for me. right?"

"always," he said immediately.

"okay then." you took the last step between the two of you slowly, watching for any resistance. meeting none, you brushed your knuckles against his. "i can't think of anywhere i'd feel safer."

"you know that's crazy, right?"

you hummed quietly. "nah."

"i'm being serious."

"me too."

he studied your face silently. you smiled softly at him.

finally, a sigh escaped him and he scooted his hand forward, wrapping his index finger around your own and squeezing gently. "you're sure you want this? i can set you up with a place downtown for a bit. you'd never have to see me again, never have to worry about... all of this."

"i've never been more sure of anything." you said it firmly, confidently, letting the words hang in the air for a few moments before popping one eyebrow up playfully. "why, need to make room for a side piece?"

a startled choking sound escaped him. "excuse me?"

"i mean, when you were talking about being busy, it felt kinda suspicious."

"what is wrong with you?" he asked, exasperation and laughter coating his voice.

"listen, you were being evasive!" his head fell forwards, resting on your shoulder as he laughed.

"i didn't want you to know i was bleeding all over the place!"

"why, didn't want me to worry?"

"exactly!"

you reached your free hand up, gently resting it on the back of his head and playing with his hair. "then maybe, just maybe, you should have gotten someone to tell me your phone went for a swim."

"fair enough."

you stood quietly for a long time, running your fingers through his hair and enjoying the feeling of his breath against your collar.

"i..." he muttered, pulling back to look in your eyes. "i don't think- um. i don't think i'm..." he groaned, gaze darting to the ceiling. "i love you. but the minute you have enough of- of all of this-"

"i won't."

"but if you do, i'll... i'll understand, okay?"

you squeezed his finger gently. "okay." you inhaled deeply, dropping the bloody towel you were still clutching and slid your hand forward to hold his completely. "can we get a bandage on that and go to bed, now?"

"....yes please."

---

"wait!" you yelled, throwing the first aid kit haphazardly onto the bathroom counter and racing after him into the bedroom, where he whirled around with wide eyes. "i love you too! i never said it back- i love you too."

"don't yell like that- i thought something was wrong!"

"me not saying it back is urgently wrong, jason!"

[hotch-stufff]

Hey ❤️ Can you write something with number 10. Undercover/fake relationship, with Gibbs? Maybe add a bit of angst?

Undercover

gif by lucifersagents

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings!: Angst, undercover work, mentions of death and usual NCIS things, more angst, but fluffy ending

Promt: #10 undercover/fake relationship

--------

"We got a body." Gibbs announced to the team. You groaned. You had just wrapped up a case and almost instantly were diving into the next one.

"Don't murderers ever take a vacation?" You whined to Dinozzo.

"No, but we are. 3 marines found dead with their wives, in Miami, Florida. All were on vacation for their honeymoon." McGee informs the group. Everyone spent a few minute studying the victims.

"You know y/n you kind of look like the wives. And, and Gibbs you kinds resemble the husbands. In ya' know the stone cold marine type way." That earned a hard slap to the back of the head. "I'm just sayin'. We might have an opportunity here."

"You mean undercover?" You asked curiously, glancing at Gibbs. His face remained unwavering.

"Yeah, I mean, you two pretend to be married and we lure the guy to you two instead of some other couple." Dinozzo continued. You had to admit he had a point.

"I agree with Dinozzo, boss. This might just work well enough to distract him from killing another couple." Gibbs nodded slowly, still staring at the file.

"Ok, pack a bag everyone. Me and y/n will be going undercover, the rest of you will be running point from inside with the Miami PD." Gibbs grunts out before heading to the elevator. McGee shot you a look and you just shrugged.

* * *

10 hours later and you were settling into a lush honeymoon sweet in some way overpriced fancy hotel.

"So, Gibbs, how do you want to go about doing this? We need a back story, and I cant keep calling you Gibbs, because well that just doesn't make sense." You were babbling. But you always did when you were nervous. And you were only nervous because you may or may not have developed some feelings for the man standing before you.

"I guess your right." He sat on the edge of the bed. "We met at a small coffee shop, I was on my way to work, you were..." he was struggling to come up with something.

"Most of the wives were also marines, they just served for a much smaller amount of time than their husbands, they all worked on the same bases as their husbands. So I was also on my way to work, coincidently at the same place." He nodded going along with it.

"That works." He paused. "We need names."

"You could probably stick with Jethro Gibbs, and I would be Y/n Gibbs." He raised an eyebrow at you. "What? It would probably be easier just in case we slip up with a name." He couldn't argue there.

"Alright we should probably get some rest. Long day tomorrow." You agreed quickly with him, and you both made your way towards the bed. The bed. The only bed.

"I can sleep on the couch." He offered.

"Really Gibbs? No, we can share. Its a huge bed." And so you shared. He nodded, and swallowed audibly. You both got under the covers on your respective sides. And you heard Gibbs breathing even out signaling that he was asleep. You turned over and saw how serene his faced looked. You fell asleep soon after.

* * *

You awoke the next morning with a foriegn weight on your chest. Opening your eyes slowly you looked down only to find a head of salt and pepper hair. Gibbs. Gibbs was wrapped around ypu like-like a koala. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, his legs tangled with yours while his head rested on your chest, your hands in his hair. You needed to get out of this bed. You ever so gently removed yourself from his arms, and he whined. He actually whined before falling back asleep.

You made a point not to bring this morning up once he woke up.

* * *

The case had seemed to be going relatively well. That is until you were almost caught following a suspect. The guy was walking back around a corner in an alley, probably because he had dropped his keys. If you didn't do something fast, then you would both be caught and ultimately busted.

All of a sudden Gibbs grabbed you and pressed you into a wall. He reached his hand down around your thigh hoisting it up along his side. And then his lips were on yours. He kissed you like a starved man, your mouths slanted together. He pressed into you more, and with one of his hands on your face and the other on your thigh, you let out a soft moan. Grabbing him by the collar you pulled him in harder and kissed him with even more passion than you thought possible.

The spell was unfortunately broken when the guy grabbed Gibbs by the shoulder yanking him back. He had a gun pointed directly at him.

Although unfortunately for him the rest of the team along with many officers were waiting for him to make his move and he was arrested within seconds.

And you and Gibbs couldn't look each other in the eyes.

* * *

The case cleared up pretty quickly after that, and you and Gibbs headed back to your room to collect your stuff. Once in the room the silence was deafening.

"Listen y/n, I'm sorry about the kiss. I just needed him to be distracted long enough to notice us." He daid a grim look on his face.

"I uh, it's fine." Yous stumbled out.

"You okay y/n?" He asked hesitantly stepping closer to you.

"I just, that seemed a lot more than just an undercover kiss." You paused waiting for a reaction. "It just seemed too real." You added quietly. His face quickly changed to one of almost anger.

"Well, it wasn't real." He snapped.

"Jeez Gibbs, you don't need to get defensive. I was just saying-" he cut you off.

"Listen y/n, that kiss was nothing. The only reason I would ever kiss you is if it pertained to a case!" You felt your eyes tear up as the realization crossed his face at what he just said.

"Wow, um. O-okay. I'm all packed, so I'm just gonna go." The tears were steadily falling down your face now.

"Wait y/n, that's not what I meant." He said, his voice softer now.

"No really sir, its fine. We should probably just remain professional from now on so that no feelings get mixed in with work." You walked to the door. "Goodbye Agent Gibbs." And you slammed the door behind you. Leaving Gibbs in that room by himself wondering what the hell he had just done.

* * *

You had closed yourself off completely from Gibbs in the upcoming weeks. He hated it of course, but he thought it best. He was sure he was falling in love with you, but he couldn't get close. He would only end up hurting you.

You had confided in Ducky one day after work. He had asked you why you had been avoiding Gibbs so much and you told him. He wanted to smack Gibbs. He would settle for giving him a piece of his mind.

So after work he called Gibbs downstairs to his office and shut the door behind him.

"You're an idiot." He scoffed.

"Excuse me?" Gibbs was taken aback by his friends bold words.

"She loves you too. And you're just pushing her away. Listen, not every woman you are with is going to get hurt, and you need y/n. I haven't seen you that happy since, well in a long time." Gibbs sat quietly taking in the words of his colleague.

"I-I didn't know what to do Duck. She was too close and I just... I panicked." He said quietly. Ashamed at the way he had spoken to you.

"Heres what you are going to do..."

* * *

You were sitting at you desk when you received a text from Palmer that you were needed in autopsy, you headed to the elevator and hopped in pressing the floor number. As you reached the floor, the doors slid open, revealing Gibbs, with a bouquet of flowers?

He stepped into the elevator, remaining quiet until it started moving. He pulled the emergency button and the elevator came to a halt. He turned slowly to face you.

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words, and you know how much I hate apologizing. But I'm sorry for what I said and how I acted." He handed you the flowers. You took them giving him a skeptical look.

"Thank you?" You were very confused at where this was going.

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the hell out of me." He paused. "When I kissed you it was the best kiss I had ever had and I just didn't want to let you get close. I was scared." You knew it took a lot for him to say all of that to you, so you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thank you." You smiled at him. "I love you too you idiot." He chuckled at your words.

"I guess I am pretty stupid." You nodded.

"Yeah, but I know how you can make it up to me." You said a mischievous glint in your eyes. And boy did he make it up to you.

--------

Let me know what you think about this one! I loved this. I know its short, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so keep them coming! If you would like an idea of what to request here is my promt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Safe With Me

ao3 link! anon sentence prompt request: "ready or not, here I come." angst to fluff, very emotional. sorry for any grammatical errors! I was given a 2000 word limit or less and I went almost 200 over but enjoy and tell me what you think!

***

Hiding for your Mistress and her daughters was one thing but hiding from a hunter who had entered the castle undetected was another. Alcina and her daughters weren’t home, they were down in the village. Alcina’s daughters didn’t need to go with her, but they managed to convince her to let them tag along.

You had been getting ready to walk downstairs when you saw the hunter walk out of the room that led to the courtyard. Another thing you hated was that there was no staff today so you were all alone with the hunter. Your breath had caught in in your throat as you slowly backed up so he wouldn’t hear your footsteps but you weren’t paying attention and you hit one of the marble busts in the hallway, its banging up against the wall catching the hunter’s attention.

“Who’s in here?!” The hunter shouted out. Your eyes widened and your heart started beating even faster as you heard him coming towards the stairs. You looked around for somewhere to hide, but your legs felt like they couldn’t move. The hunter quickly ascended the stairs and laid eyes on you. “Now, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in this big castle all by your lonesome?” He asked with a creepy smile.

You let out an ear-piercing scream before you felt your legs finally work as you ran down the hallway towards Alcina’s chambers. You quickly entered the room and shut the door, locking it so he wouldn’t come in and hid under the bed. It didn’t take him long to realise where you had gone when he checked the door handle to find the door locked. You flinched as you heard the bullets hitting the handle, holding your breath when you heard the door creak open.

“I know you’re in here, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.” The hunter said. You wish you could scream out Alcina’s name and that she’d come running to save you, but you knew she wouldn’t be able to hear you. “Come on now, I can help you.” He said as he stopped by the bed. You saw him start to crouch down and made your way to the other side of the bed. “There you are.” He grinned at you and you kicked him in the face scrambling from under the bed.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled over your shoulder as you dashed from the room.

“You little bitch! Get back here!” He screamed as he held his hand over his eye.

You didn’t stop running until you got to the hallway that had Alcina’s study and the library on it. Quickly deciding to hide in the library since it was bigger than Alcina’s study, you barricaded the door with a chair and a shelf that took a bit of work to move.

Your chest was heaving as you let out heavy breaths. You saw the handle to the library door jiggle and a small chuckle escape the hunter’s lips. “So you’re in here, are you?” He asked, his voice muffled. “Well, ready or not, here I come.” He grunted out as his rammed his shoulder into the doors to get them to open.

You shook your head as tears streamed down your face. Yes, the library was huge, but there were no good hiding places. But you headed up the left side of the stairs anyway just to put some distance between you two, a decision you made a second too late when the hunter came barrelling into the library, spotting you immediately.

“Aw, don’t run from me anymore, sweetheart, you’re starting to hurt my feelings.” He said as he cocked the gun and aimed it for you. You ducked when the first shot rang out, running up the rest of the stairs and hiding in between the bookcases as best as you could. The spot was cramped but you hoped that he wouldn’t find you here. Your heart thudded with every footstep he took up the stairs to the second floor. “Now, where could you be up here?” He asked as he looked through the rows of books. You thought it was strange when he started walking down the aisle you went down, like he could smell where you were hiding. The thought made your eyes widen and you pushed yourself back further into the space trying to get to the other aisle just as someone grabbed your arm.

“Let go of me!” You screamed at him, kicking him again but in his leg this time as you dashed down the aisle. He met you at the end of it. You pushed him out of your way, trying to get back down the stairs.

“Not on my watch sweetheart. You either die right here or I take you back down the village to be mine. What’s it gonna be?” He asked.

You grimaced. “Neither.” You replied. He kept walking towards you and you backed up until your back hit the balcony rail. “Take one more step towards me and I’ll jump.” You threatened. He smirked at you as if daring you to do so as he took one more step. To his surprise, you did jump from the balcony and to your surprise, you landed on one of comfy couches that was in the library.

“You stupid bitch!” He growled out as he headed back down the stairs. You quickly got up from the couch to make your way to the door, but somehow, he got there before you, blocking your only escape route. Was the door opened that wide when he came in? You shook the question from your mind. “Not so fast. I asked you a question and you gave me your answer so by default I’m gonna carve you up real nice for the Lady to come home to. Such a shame that I have to do something to such a pretty face.”

You shook your head at him, your hands coming up defensively as you back away from him. “Pl-please. I don-” Your words were cut off as you tripped over the rug where it had come up slightly. “I’ll, I’ll go with you. I just, please, don’t kill me.” You pleaded with him as he cocked his gun again.

“Too late for that. Any last words?” He replied.

You felt the tears streaming down your face. You whispered four words to yours before closing your eyes. “I love you, Alcina.” You waited for the shot to ring out and you heard two, but you heard something shatter and a squishing noise. You slowly opened one eye to find the man who had just threatened to end your life being impaled by your Mistress’ claws, gurgling blood in his mouth. “Alcina?”

Alcina led the body slide off her claws and signalled for her daughters to take the body from the room. “Are you alright, iubirea mea?” Alcina asked as she crouched down. You stared at her and nodded your head slightly. You saw her nostrils flare as she sniffed the air and looked down at your leg. “Oh, sweet thing, you’re hurt.”

You looked down to where her gaze was trained and saw the blood oozing out of your leg. You suddenly felt lightheaded. “Al...” It was all you could say before you felt yourself about to pass out.

“No, dear, stay awake for me.” She said as she picked you up carefully, carrying you over to the couch and placing you down before put your leg over hers. You weakly nodded your head as you heard the sound of buzzing. “Girls, get something to warm her up and get the first aid kit. Go down to village and get the doctor, wake her up if you have to, just get her here quickly.” She commanded. You heard the chorus of “Yes, Mother” before they flew away again.

“Ina?” You said. She hummed. “Ho- how did yo-”

Alcina cut you off. “I could smell his blood as you as I entered the gates. I got here as quickly as I possibly could.” You heard her sniffle. “This will hurt, but I must put pressure on the wound.”  You let out a strangled scream as she pressed on the wound to minimize the bleeding. “Shh, shh, sweet one, it’ll all be alright.” She said to you softly. “Where the hell are they?” She growled to herself.

You heard a soft buzzing come into the room. “The first aid kit, Mother. Daniela and Cassandra went to fetch the doctor.” Bela said. “Will she be alright?” Bela asked as she helped her Mother dress your wound until the doctor got here.

“I’m not sure, my dear. Did you bring a blanket?” Bela nodded her head and handed them to her Mother. “There, my sweet, these’ll keep you warm until the doctor arrives. You’ve gotten dreadfully cold in such a short matter of time.”

You could barely move so you just let out a small noise so that they would know you were still with them. It felt like hours had passed until Alcina was welcoming the doctor into the room to look at you.

“Well, Y/N, will need surgery to remove the bullet.” The doctor said. You heard Alcina protesting, not wanting you out of her sight. “It would be unsanitary for me to do it here, Lady Dimitrescu.” You could hear Alcina growl something out to the doctor in Romanian. “If this wound gets infected, My Lady, then this one’s on you. Prep her for me.”

Alcina made sure the table in the library was thoroughly sanitised before placing you on it. “The doctor’s going to get the bullet out, and then I’ll take care of the wound afterwards.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead before whispering something to one of her daughters.

When you came to you could feel Alcina’s honey golden eyes staring at you as she sat by you. “You passed out from the potion, draga mea. You’ve been asleep for a few days.” She said to you softly, her head coming up to your forehead. “You’ve a small fever. But the doctor was able to get the bullet out during the surgery. However, though the potion did heal up your leg from any infections that you may or may not have gotten, the doctor wants you to stay off your leg as much as possible.” Alcina explains.

“Oh.” Was all you could say at the time.

“Try to go back to sleep, sweet one. After such an event, you need the rest.” You shook your head. You didn’t want to sleep, the fear of dreaming about what happened creeping up on you. “My dear, I can’t stay with you. I have some work to do so it’s either stay here or go to the library.”

Your eyes widened at the thought of being in the library. “Please don’t leave me.” You whispered to her. You didn’t realise you were crying until she was wiping the tears away with her thumbs. “Please.”

Alcina pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t, I won’t, I’m right here.” She whispered. “If you wish to read, we can go to the library and I can work from there.” You nodded your head hesitantly before Alcina picked you up and headed to the library. She sat you down outside the door of the library. “Go on inside, I’ll be right there in a moment.” She said before disappearing into her study.

You didn’t move as you stared at the closed door. You couldn’t bring yourself to place your hand on the handle and open the door. “I can’t,” You said to yourself. “No! No! No! Stop it, please!” You yelled out.

Alcina rushed to your side. “Darling, what is it?” She asked, concern lacing her voice.

“He’s in there, Ina. He, he, I can’t. Please.” Your voice cracked as you pushed yourself into Alcina’s body. Your tears soaking her dress.

“Okay, okay. We won’t go in the library.” She ran her hand down your back before guiding you into her study. “How foolish of me to think that you’d want to go in there, especially by yourself. I’m sorry, sweet thing.” Alcina said, chastising herself.

“Please don’t leave me alone.” You said looking up at her from your position on her lap.

Alcina shook her head. “No, my darling, I won’t. I won’t ever leave you alone.” She pressed a kiss to your lips and you melted into it. “Never again.” She said against your lips before she pulled away and pressed one to your forehead. You pressed yourself deeper into her chest, just wanting to be as close to her as possible. She wrapped her arms around you. “I promise that you’ll always be safe with me, sweet one. Always.” You hummed into her chest at her promise. You knew she’d keep her word to you, in every way she could.

[dazed--xx]

Sold Your Soul

Request: Ooh could I request Yandere!Sugar Daddy! Seokjin¿

Member: HARD Yandere!sadist Jin x Reader

Genre: angst, yandere, (implied smut)

Word Count: 1,590

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Abuse, manipulation, pressured sex, handcuffed to a bed, hair pulling, name calling, whatever else I forgot to put sorry guys  

A/N:  MY FIRST JIN FIC thank you to the beautifully dark and non-descriptive soul for sending in this request, I hope you enjoy it and this finds you, I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEHAVIOR IF YOU ARE BEING ABUSED GET HELP, PLEASE. And with that being said send in more requests  

Summary: Kim Seokjin, V.P. of Kim industries, powerful, wealthy, and charming. The sweetest heir to the Kim enterprise according to the public. You believed it, his overwhelming charm and confidence the mask for the demon within. Jīn has gotten whatever he wanted, and he wants you. With your contract only days from ending, Jin declares you’ve violated the contract and now you belong to him. Permanently.  

(not my gif)

Month 5 day 22 10:42 pm

If anyone was to ask you how the past 5 months 22 days have been you’d say a secret nightmare, your provider was a ruthless and spoiled man. The onlookers would say you were lucky, the heir to Kim Enterprises was spoiling you with riches, paying your tuition, etc... The soft glow on his skin, his plump lips, his soft fragile image of the perfect son in the perfect family had shattered within 2 months. The abuse of his power and wealth over you, use of your safe word during sexual punishment would result in financial punishment. If you would have read the fine print in your contract with him you wouldn’t be handcuffed to his headboard as he released his anger, at his words “your betrayal”. Only hours ago, he was losing himself inside you, holding you in his arms fingers lightly tracing circles on your arms. How did you end up here?

*flashback*

Your hands curled around the bottom seam of your skirt griping it tightly. Your entire body shaking as the driver pulled to a stop in front of the large office building. Your mouth completely dries itself up. “Miss y/l/n Mr. Kim has requested you inform his assistant you have arrived from the front desk give them your name, then proceed to the 16th floor Mr. Kim's assistant will meet you right off the elevator she will give you further instructions. Have a nice day” his driver speaks soft and swiftly.  

You shakily eye the building. Taking a soft nervous step your breath hitches in your throat. As you step into the building you look around everything seems to happen in the blink of an eye and soon you were rushed into his office. You turned to close the door behind you and you stared at the closed door in front of you and your hand stayed frozen on the handle.  

“You can leave if you'd like but from what I know so far Miss Y/l/n you need me more than I need you” His velvety voice rang through your ears. “Come. Sit.” he said with a more commanding tone. As your eyes trailed over the luxurious office, I do not belong here you thought. Your legs acting on your own as you find your way in the chair placed in front of his desk eyes never once leaving the floor. “you're nervous” he states softly. You nod softly, a blush creeping on your face.  

You hear him lift himself off his chair and soon you can feel his hand on your shoulder, he lowers his body kneeling in front of you. “Do I make you uncomfortable y/n” his hand lifting my head to face him I shake my head “n-no sir” my meek voice barely over a whisper. “Have you read over the contract miss y/l/n?” you nod taking in his handsome features. The curve of his lips, the playful innocence in his voice. “All of it?” you nod lying to him, you dozed off reading the contract around the termination clauses. “And you're............experienced?”  

“yes, sir I'm here to please” you reached into your bag and handed him the contract. “Well miss y/l/n consider your student loans and your sisters medical expenses paid for, now that business is taken care of on your knees beautiful let's see how eager you are to please” He stated standing straight up unzipping his pants. You stared at him in shock, how did he know about your sister.

*present* -Month 5 day 22 10:23 pm

You weren't sure what you had said to set Jin off but he was livid. Your terrified state only encouraged his anger. He got off on your misery, he was enamored by the beauty of your face as tears streamed down it. The way you would shake like a chihuahua if he so much as looked at you a certain way. You had fallen into your submissive role the second you handed him the contract. He knew he loved you the moment he saw you that day walking home from work. A man in Jins position had wealth and anyone at his disposal to keep an eye on you and report back. He knew everything about you before he even presented you with the 6-month contract. Even though he had paid off all your expenses before you even knew he existed.  

He praised you when you did well, punished you when you acted out. He loved you and you loved him well he thought you loved him. As the days got closer to the 6-month mark Jin heard you making arraignments to leave his side and find another place to live. He thought it was just cold feet you were scared of your love and maybe he just needed to remind you who you belonged to and everything would be alright. Until you came to him with an apartment you had put a down payment on, wishing you could begin slowly moving your things in to adjust from the past 6 months as you put it.  

His anger only grew as you continued about the life you wished to lead after you leave him. He could only see red as his hand strikes you. He continuously shoves you back until your pressed against the wall. His hand finding its way to your throat, “who the fuck told you that you could use my own money to pay for some silly thing like an apartment, you aren't leaving y/n” he growled forcing his lips on yours “who put that stupid idea in your weak mind? Your sister? Your mother? Or are you a fucking whore y/n?” you wince as he adds pressure to your throat “that's it isn't it! Who is he? Ill fucking kill him” you look at him terrified words fighting their way out  

“NO-ONE! P-please get off me, I-I s-swear there's been no one b-but yo---’LYING BITCH WHY ELSE WOULD YOU BE SO DESPARATE TO GET AWAY FROM ME Y/N I LOVE YOU; YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT YOURE NOT LEAVING ME Y/N” He yanked your arm roughly, dragging you to your room. He grabs the handcuffs he keeps in the night stand beside the bed. Wrapping one of the cold cuffs around your wrist, he yanks it pulling you across the room. “N-no Jin please! I can be good I-I can b-be go-od p-please!” you scream as you grab onto the door.  

The pain in your wrist growing stronger. Jins face is now red “what did you call me” his voice is low the burning sensation in your wrist turning to throbbing as Jin stares at you. Your eyes widen as you force the door open, as your small figure makes it past the frame you can feel his hand in your hair, the burning sensation scratching its way through your head.  

The tears burning your eyes as you scream in pain “PLEASE HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE!”

You fight back but its utterly useless and he handcuffs you to your headboard “I fucking help you, you piece of trash. I give you everything! Everything I have y/n, you want me you have that you want my money I’ll transfer it all to you every last cent. I've bought you clothes food trips for you and your waste of space sister, I've given you freedom and respect and all I get in return for my love and kindness is disrespect, infidelity, and used. You want to know why your other Doms got rid of you y/n?” your eyes travel from the ceiling to his face.

 The hurt evident, “it's because you’re a gold-digging whore y/n you want money and that’s it you don’t care about how people feel you don’t care about love or anything you fuck anyone that will give you a bigger pay check and leave a trail of broken hearts. But I'm not one of those men y/n I'd rather kill you than live without you” he states standing frozen in the middle of the room his hand pulling a gun out from behind his back, pointing it right at you. “so, y/n do you want to die?”  

Your heart raced as you shook your head rapidly the tears rapidly flowing down your cheeks. “N-no p-please s-sir, I-ill d-do anything” his small huffs turning into a hearty laugh as he points the gun to his head, slowly rubbing it against his temple ��

“It doesn’t matter if you want to leave it doesn’t matter if you want your own apartment. You violated your part of the NDA, Y/n by exposing our relationship and arrangement to your pathetic little sister you CAN’T leave, I mean I could sue you but I already know you don’t have that kind of money. Didn’t know when to bring it up but I felt now was a good a time as any. So, you see Babygirl you belong to me and the only way you're leaving me is death either by my hand or your own” he places his body on top of yours “and I hope for your sake its by your own, you know how I like to see you cry and bleed baby” his lips capture yours as your tears mix with the taste of his tongue.  

You closed your eyes as his hard long member enters your core, erasing the misery from your mind as you breathlessly moan “sir”  

you’ve sold your soul to the devil and He’s here to collect.  

[inlovewithfictionalmensblog]

Traitor (B.R)

Paring: billy russo x fem!reader

Warning: angst, going through pregnancy, cheating, violence, pregnancy sickness. And....idk if there will be fluff.

Summary: billy and you agreed to make it just friends with benefits. But it turned into more. But then billy f!cks it up. and now your left to go through something all alone. (With your sister and parents of course)

(I already made a oneshot about something similar to this, but i wasnt proud of it, so i decided to try and make one better:) )

(Gif isnt mine, none of the gifs i put in my stories are mine :)

"I never should've expected anything different from you. I'm blind to have believed you" Y/n spat, she kept in her tears. She'd rather kill a thousand men then let one see her cry. Billy had a hard guilty face, his heart was stinging, she had no emotion in her face. Her eyes were no longer filled with joy and adoration. No. Now it was filled with anger and regret.

Regret, of ever falling for him. And it pained billy, he never expected it to get this far, no. Maria and frankie introduced them, and they instantly connected, but they put that connection aside and decided to just go to each others places and enjoyed the pleasure. It was just constant sleeping around, nothing more. But billy felt free with Y/n , a feeling he never felt with other woman he slept with. He fell for her instantly. By the way her perfect h/c hair was in her face while she peacefully slept naked under the covers.

The way she would smile over small things like whenever she saw a butterfly fly by, ir when a dog wiggles its tail. Or when they're at a meeting, and one of the men mive their chair making a squeaking noise that made y/n let out a small anort covering her mouth looking the other way, that way she wouldnt laugh her ass off. He loved that about her. Y/n was a business woman, training to use guns and weapons. She was strict when it came to her job. She was hardheaded, strong, confident, but she wad naive and stubborn. Most of all, selfish.

But billy didn't care. He never saw her cry or show her emotions, and he already excepted her never would. Here he was, staring at her, as her phone dropped, anger showing in your face.

"Y/n. I need you to know it was only for work" billy said eagerly trying to make you believe the words coming from his mouth. You shaked your head.

"So you let your work get in the way, of what we had?" Y/n said, the calmness in her voice almost making bolly shiver in fear. It was never pretty to see her angry, or upset.

"Y/n, baby. Dont be mad at me please. It meant nothing, she means nothing."

"You know what hurts?" Y/n said. "That i heard it from her. And just by hearing her fucken voice, billy. She had pride all over her fucken face" y/n chuckled dangerously.

"Y/- baby--"

"Dont fucken 'baby' me! Billy." Y/n shook her head, her breathing got faster.

"Give me 20 minutes to pack my shit, and then I'll leave you with your slut" y/n told him.

"No. Y/n! Y- you promised to never leave me, to never break m-"

"You broke mine first Billy! I intended to keeo my promise. But how can i, when you decide to fucken ruin everything!"

Billy stood there, shocked. Scared, guilty, upset from his stupid actions towards dinah. Sad because he knew, you were no longer his.

Y/n grabbed a bag, filling it uo with her belongings, some of them. She just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

-

Shortly, after 20 minutes, y/n finished, grabbing her bag, and heading out the door. Billy wanted to chase after her. But it was no use.

She was gone.

But he intends to get her back. He knew it would be hard, but he knew he could never find another girl like her. And he wasnt gonna risk losing her for good. Even though he knew he possibly already did.

-

"Y/n...please dont leave, it'll be lonely..who will i go to whenever frank does some shit to fuck up something?"

Y/n softly chuckled.

"I'll send you my address to where I'll be staying at. But keep it to yourself. Only you will know" y/n said to her.

"And what about...the baby?" Karen brought up. Y/n widened her eyes, forgetting about the test she took only this morning. She had found out 3 weeks with karen, dinah found out 2 weeks later after hearing a conversation between karen and y/n. Pretty obvious she didn't tell billy about it.

"I'll raise it alone. My mother did it, i can do it too" y/n smiled lightly. Truth was...she wasnt sure she could. But she wasn't gonna abandon her baby, not like her father had done to her. Her baby was already a big part of her life. There was no way in hell she was gonna abandon it.

"You're the strongest woman I've ever met, y/n, talk to me if you need anything, and call me when you can to let me know about you and the baby" karen said to her with a frowing face. Karen adored y/n too much to let her do this alone. And y/n appreciated that.

"I will"

-

The cottage was beautiful and homey. Far away from the city of new york. The flowers were beautiful, different colors, and different smells. Although y/n thought flowers really onky had one scent...which smelled like nothing or just roses. The grass surrounding the cottage house was beautiful, perfectly green and healthy. The white gate, clean. The sound of the beach waves calming y/n down from her nerves. Inside the cottage house, were three bedrooms. One, which was the master bedroom, the walls were a matte, light brown colors, the Queen bed, coverd in white soft sheets. Different plants.

The second bedroom, in which y/n decided was the baby's bedroom since it was the closest to her bedroom. She still hadnt decided how to decorate it since it was too soon to tell the gender.

The second bedroom, was just a guest bedroom for either her siblings, it was enough for her two big brothers and little sister.

The living room, seemed to be decorated aesthetically, vines, beautiful paintings, the soft couch that made y/n want to forever sleep in.iver 3 minutes away from the cottage was free space, where she parked her car, and was able to shoot her gun.

Her thoughts kept going to billy, remembering the beautiful memories before he fucked up. The way he kissed her, made love to her, punished her, cooked for her, cared for her. Loved her. The way he smelled whenever he hugged her or pushed his body against hers. Every love letter he wrote for her when he was a marine, they knee each other for 6 years, they were together for 6 years. And in those 6 years, she was...happy. smiled, laughed.

But now, she sat on the sand, watching the sunset, hearing the relaxing sound of the waves. Her eyes watering, she didnt dare cry in front of him, but now that she was alone. She was free to cry all she wanted.

Meanwhile, in billys penthouse, he had tears running down his eyes like pouring rain, as frankie yelled at him.

"How can you be so stupid! Bill, she was perfect for you , and you let her leave for some fucken agent thats clearly using you?!" Frankie yelled. Billy knew his mistake, he hated frankie reminding him.

"You dont think i fucken know that?! I know i messed up! If i could take it all back, trust me. I fucken would" billy argued. He nose twitching, his eyes red and puffy. He didn't want to go to thier old shared bedroom if he did. He would fall down his knees.

"Then find her! Get her back! She's my sister bill, i told you not to fucken break her heart. And thats the first thing you fucken do" frankie yelled defensively. You were his little sister, his baby sister. He would kill for you. And now that he had no idea where you were. He was tearing down everything around him.

"I will frankie. I never meant to hurt her. Fuck, Frank shes everything to me, means the world to me. I cant bear being without her, help me" billy said "help me find her and make her mine again"

Frankie sighed and nodded.

-

Y/n spent a couple of weaks reading pregnancy books, and reading how to be a perfect mother. Everything a good mother should know. As she was so concentrated, her phone rang making her flinch.

"Hello?" "Y/n, how have you been?" Karen said from the other line. Y/n sighed tiredly.

"Tired. I keep vomiting. And crave pickles..i hate pickles!" Y/n frowned. Karen laughed shaking her head. Before her smiled waved off.

"Frankie has been worried about you...y/n/n, he cant sleep or eat. He cries most of his nights. He needs to know y/n"

"Not yet, kare. Please dont tell him"

"Too late. Because while i was in the shower, he saw your address, and im pretty sure he's on the way" karen winced. "You've got to be kidding me"

"Im sorry, y/n, i swear i didn't mean for him to find out"

"Its fine kare. I'll talk to you later K"

"Be safe"

-

Y/n stood in the sand, waiting for her brother ti arrive. She looked down playing with the little shells she had found.

"You always did have love for the ocean" franks voice said behind her. Y/n chuckled shaking her head.

" i got it when you drowned me" frankie sat beside her. "In my defense, it was either you or me, i simply chose me" he smirked.

Y/n smiled. Frankie always did make her smile.

"I know somethings up, little sis. Tell me" frankie demanded in a soft tone. Y/n sighed, getting up wetting her feet with the water.

"Im pregnant" she muttered looking down, guilty overtook her. She squinted her eyes at the sun. Licking her dried lips. The silence of her brother scaring her. But he spoke again.

"Is..Billy?" "The father? Yes"

"Now i have another reason to kill him" Frank uttered. "Does me know" frank said. Y/n looked down in shame. "Guessing thats a no"

"You cant tell him. Not where i am, and not..about my pregnancy"

"Y/n...he didn't sleep with her. She took advantage if him at the party, he was gonna go gome to you, but then the stupid bitch drugged him, and convinced him that he slept with her"y/n widened her eyes, her mouth opening.

That dinah bitch was for sure dead now. But she still didn't trust billy.

"Im gonna kill that bitch.....but billy needs to earn my trust..and, i dont think i want to see him first a while, so frankie don't tell him anything. Wait for me to give you the call"

"I will, but doesn't mean im not gonna visit everyday to check on my niece" "you dont know if its a girl yet, frankie"

"Oh i know its a girl" frankie smirked. Y/n shaked her head laughing. Her brother always knew these type of things. But she wanted to make sure for sure before she went crazy baby shopping for her soon to be spoiled baby.

-

Frankie was getting impatient, as well as karen. Y/n was now 2 months pregnant, her belly wasnt big big, but it showed a little.

Frankie layed his head on her stomach.

"Cant imagine my little sister is pregnant. Feels so weird" frankie muttered. Karen let out a laugh as she knitted a blanket. Y/n laughed making franks head bounce up and down.

"Billy needs to know" frank brought up making y/n frown. She shaked her head. Even though, she knew frankie was right.

"Then so be it" y/n said making eyes go on her. "He's the father of my child. If he wants to be in her or his life, and start a life with me. I would want nothing more. But if not, i want nothing to do with him or new york" frankie and karen shaking their heads nodding with smiles.

'What have i gotten myself into?' Y/n thought to herself.

(I'll be making a part two)

[hercleverboy]

the waiting room

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ the three times Y/N waited for spencer, and the one time he waited for her. (based off of this blurb)

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of death as a result of potential illness, spencer’s headaches, mri scans, swearing,  indefinite ending. 

word count ↠ 2.9k

dedicating this one to two of the literal loves of my life, @voidsfilm + @ellesgreenaway ♡

“What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

He found it so conflicting, how a place could hold so much hope for life and promise for the future, and yet also hold so much heartbreak and despair and agony.

The strong disinfectant smell wasn’t his favourite thing, either. He hated how the bright lights always irritated his eyes, and how the hallways all just looked the same, so bleak and lifeless.

Most of all, he hated the waiting room. 

The navy-blue carpet that lined the floors, wooden chairs that were always, without fail, extremely uncomfortable to sit in. The way that nurses and doctors would walk past the room, eyes full of pity and sorrow. With his job, he’d seen more waiting rooms than he would’ve liked. He spent more time than he wanted to in hospitals, talking to victims’ families, and even sometimes having to witness them receive such heartbreaking news. On one or two occasions, he’d even had to be the bearer of bad news himself, the one who had to tell expectant family that their loved one was gone. It only added to the list of reasons why he despised hospitals.

Then there was the other side of the coin. He took frequent trips to the hospital, but unfortunately more oftenly as a patient than an FBI agent. He wouldn’t say he was reckless, but he didn’t exactly put much value on his life. Or at least, he never used to. He figured it was because he was the only one on the team without a family to come home to, without people who were dependent on him. And so, if it came down to it, he would willing take off his Kevlar vest and put down his weapon while talking down a gun-wielding unsub. Of course, he’d get the third degree from Hotch later, but he could live with that. And then he met Y/N, and he realised that now he had someone counting on him, someone waiting for him to come back home to them, he couldn’t afford to be so careless in the field.

Though sometimes, despite Spencer’s best attempts, things still went wrong. Y/N had seen the inside of the hospital waiting room more than most, often because she’d get called by one of his team mates to alert her that he’d been injured in the field. And without him ever asking, she’d drop everything to be there for him, even if it was his own stupidity that had landed him in those situations. 

The first time was after he’d been shot in the knee. Y/N had been midway through her workday when she’d received a call from JJ telling her that Spencer had been injured. She knew that it was only a leg wound, that he would be absolutely fine, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. She’d been sat in the waiting room, waiting anxiously for a nurse to come by and update her. 

As soon as she got the all clear to see him, she’d breathed out a sigh of relief and made her way to his room,  catching his attention as soon as she entered.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting through his leg. “Hi.” 

She chuckled at that, moving to stand at his bedside. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m ok.” He smiled, reaching up to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.” 

“Oh, stop.” She mumbled with a smile. “You know how much I worry about you.” 

He grinned at that, the warm feeling that he always got when he was with her spreading through him. He used the grip he had on her hand to pull her down to him, so his lips could meet hers in a sweet kiss. “Hotch has demanded I take some time off to rest, or whatever.” He murmured against her lips. “So, I’m all yours.” 

“Hmm, and what you mean by that is that you need someone to take care of you at home for a few days?” 

“Well, I did get shot in the leg, you know. Taking down the bad guy...” He gestured to his bandaged-up knee, a pout on his pretty pink lips. 

She let out a laugh at that, amused. “Alright, Superman. Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

The next time Y/N found herself in the hospital waiting room was a year later, when Spencer had been suffering from painful, unexplainable headaches. 

Initially, Spencer hadn’t wanted her to attend his MRI scan appointment, but it didn’t take much convincing for her to assure him that she wanted to be there for him. He’d held her hand in a vice-like grip on the drive to the hospital, only letting go when the nurse called his name to tell him they were ready for him. She’d kissed the back of his hand before he’d left, a whispered promise leaving her lips before he went, “I’ll be right here waiting.”

She looked around the empty waiting room, took note of its greying walls and stained carpet, and how awfully uncomfortable the chairs were. She thought of anything and everything that could distract her from the way she was feeling at that moment- knowing how scared her boyfriend was that there was something was wrong with him. 

Spencer came back to the waiting room an hour later, both relieved to see that his girl was indeed still waiting for him but frustrated with what little the doctor had told him. 

“Hey!” Y/N sat up straighter, putting on a smile for the sake of her boyfriend. “How’d it go?” 

Spencer just shook his head. “He says there’s nothing physically wrong with me. He suggested I should consider that it’s something more mental, but he’s wrong- he’s wrong, Y/N.” He sat down in the chair next to her, seeking comfort in her arms as he whimpered into the crook of her neck. “I’m not- I’m not crazy, am I?” 

And the truth was, she didn’t know. She was so afraid for him, worried that he was sick, dying, perhaps of something that the doctors hadn’t detected yet. It terrified her. Her hands ran up and down the expanse of his back, attempting to soothe his weeps the best that she could. Spencer grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt and breathed in the scent of her hair as deeply as he could to try and ground himself.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” 

That broke her heart to hear, but all she could do was nod in understanding, hoping her words would offer him some form of comfort. “I know, I know. We’ll figure this out, ok? Everything is going to be alright.” 

The next time Y/N inside of a waiting room was on what she could only refer to as the worst night of her life.

There were no words that could encompass the plethora of emotions she went through when she’d received a phone call from JJ, “Spencer has been shot. It’s- It’s pretty bad, Y/N. You need to come quickly.” 

When she got to the waiting room, she saw JJ and Alex sat opposite one another, a worry that made Y/N’s stomach sink on both their faces. She hurried towards them, tears blurring her vision. “Have you had any updates? Is he ok?” 

JJ looked up, shaking her head sadly. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering. 

“He got shot in the neck. He pushed me out of the way.” Alex sighed, as though she was still in disbelief that he’d done that to save her. 

Y/N stared ahead in shock, dropping down into the seat beside Alex. Of course, of course, Spencer would risk his life to protect Alex. Y/N knew how fond he was of his colleague, how he idolised her, saw her as a sort of mother figure, even. 

Eventually JJ got called back to work, with Alex insisting that she’d stay with Y/N and wait for Spencer to wake. 

Y/N was so sick and fucking tired of the waiting room. Before, she hadn’t minded it, it had even bought a sense of comfort to her- because she was in a hospital, where they saved lives. But now? The familiar walls and dull navy-blue carpet made her feel nauseous. Not knowing whether her boyfriend was going to live or die was incomparable to any other time she’d found herself waiting in the same four walls. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once, she wanted to cry and scream, curse the universe for once again hurting a man that had done nothing in his life but protect others. Hell, part of her even wanted to laugh- laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he died, - god, if he died - the world would’ve robbed him of a lifetime with her, the chance to live the life that he deserved.

She barely registered that Alex had left her side to bring her a coffee until she sat back down beside her. Y/N looked over at her, giving her a small smile as she gratefully accepted the coffee. 

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, relishing in how the hot liquid brought her a sense of warmth, and she wondered if she’d ever feel Spencer’s warmth again. She sucked in a shaky breath, speaking the first words she’d said in all the hours they’d been waiting. “You know he wants kids?” 

Alex looked over at her, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I do.” 

Y/N nodded, sniffing. “He’d be a phenomenal father.” 

“He would.” 

Y/N let out a small cry, trying desperately to hold herself together. “What if I never get the chance to give him that, Alex?” She cried, body finally giving in to the painful ache that consumed her entire being. 

Alex placed an arm around her, allowing the younger woman to lean on her shoulder for support. “You’ll get the chance. Spencer is strong, he’ll pull through.”

And sure enough, Alex had been right. When Y/N had been told he was awake, she couldn’t describe the relief that flooded her. After meeting Penelope in the hallway and being given a much-needed hug, she took a few deep breaths before walking into Spencer’s room. When her eyes landed on him, she felt the tears start to well again. She had to remind herself that despite the bandage on his neck and the numerous machines hooked up to him, he was there, and he was alive. 

She came towards him with the best smile she could muster, and he looked up at her with a drowsy smile.

“Hi.” She whispered, standing beside his bed. 

He grinned up at her, reaching out for her hand just like he always did. “Hi.” 

She squeezed his hand gently, reminding herself again that he was ok, though she couldn’t prevent the tears that began to tremble down her cheeks. 

Spencer’s heart throbbed at the sight, and he allowed himself to imagine the pain she must’ve been through, having to wait for hours to see if he was alive. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the woman he loved more than anything else. “It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m alright.” He promised, wishing more than anything that he could pull her into his arms and soothe her, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so. 

“I could’ve lost you.” She whimpered, her other hand coming out to delicately trace the side of his face. 

“I’m right here.” He gave her hand three squeezes just to emphasise his point. 

She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “You can’t ever scare me like that again.” 

Spencer chuckled lowly, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Promise me?” 

And though it was a promise they both knew he couldn’t keep, he granted her the reassurance that she craved. 

“I promise.” 

Y/N knew that wasn’t the last time she’d be sat in the waiting room, scared and anxious and hoping that the love of her life was ok. She knew there would always be a ‘next time’, no matter how many self-serving promises she asked Spencer to make. What she didn’t plan for, was that the next time she saw the inside of a hospital, it would be her fighting for her life. 

It had been a slow day at work for Spencer, with him managing to complete a majority of his withstanding paperwork. He sat at his desk, focused on how he twirled his pen between his fingertips, willing the clock to move faster so he could go back home when his phone rang, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen. 

He answered eagerly, though all eagerness was wiped away when it wasn’t her voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hi there, I’m looking for a Dr Spencer Reid?” 

Spencer’s mind raced, and he swallowed thickly before squeaking out an answer. “That’s me.” 

“I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N, you’re registered as her emergency contact.” 

“Is she ok?” He croaked out, begging and pleading internally that all the worst-case scenario’s running through his head wouldn’t come to fruition. 

“She was involved in a severe road collision. You’re going to want to come down here-”

Everything past that was drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s heart beating quicker, so loudly he could hear it. He hung up, gathering his things together as quickly as he could and rushing toward the doors of the bullpen- running directly into one Derek Morgan. 

“Woah, easy there, kid. You got somewhere to be?” He joked at first, but erased all hints of a smile from his face when he saw the tears filling the younger man’s eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

Spencer couldn’t form a sentence, only managing to splutter out a few barely strung together words. “It’s Y/N, she’s- she’s been in an a-accident and I need, I have to get to her.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened, nodding in understanding. “Alright, ok. You’re in no condition to be driving, let me take you.” 

Spencer wasn’t about to argue, already making his way toward the elevator. 

*

Spencer had always hated hospitals. 

But he’d also decided that he really fucking hated the waiting room. 

The doctors didn’t have any updates for him, no matter how many times he asked. So, he’d been forced to sit in that damned room and wait. 

He thought of how cruel the concept of the waiting room was. Waiting for either good or bad news, waiting to hear the words that would either fill him with relief or dread, signify the start of his life or the end. How cruel was it that people had to sit and wait, with the weight of the world on their shoulders and just hope their loved one was ok? 

With the first hour brought Spencer’s upset, tears trembling down rosy cheeks and whimpered words of disbelief that he could lose the woman he loved. He’d sat in the uncomfortable blue chair with his head in his hands as sobs wrecked through his body, with Morgan sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The second hour brought with it a slither of hope, as a doctor came out to update them. Though it wasn’t good nor bad news, just that Y/N was still in surgery and was expected to be so for the next few hours. Spencer had again buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing. The rest of the team arrived, joining the sombre atmosphere of the waiting room. 

The third hour saw Spencer grow agitated, angry with himself for not being with her, for not protecting her, despite how many times the team attempted to reassure him that there was nothing he could’ve done differently. They brought him cups of coffee with gentle reassurances, empty promises that Y/N would be fine, that she would pull through, but how could they possibly know that? 

In the fourth hour, Spencer sat staring blankly at the wall. He reminded himself of the future he’d dreamt of time and time again, and how he couldn’t imagine himself having that life with anyone else but her. He recalled the location of the velvet purple box he’d bought just a few months prior, hidden amongst pairs of his mismatched socks in the second drawer of his nightstand. What if he never got the chance to propose? To give her the life that he’d promised her time and time again when it was 3am and he was holding the love his life as close to his chest as he could get her. After all he’d done, the years of his life he’d given to helping to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, this was the thanks he got? What a sick twist of fate that was. 

By the fifth hour, he was exhausted. His eyes drooped but he fought to keep them open, choosing to ignore the pitiful looks JJ shot him when she saw him fighting sleep. He would wait for her, just like all the times she had waited for him. He recognised how the way that he felt must’ve been how Y/N had felt after he’d been shot the year before, and the thought almost made him sick. He ran over all the possible outcomes in his head, allowing his eyes to close for a single moment as he mentally calculated the statistical probabilities of each outcome. He despised how helpless he felt. For a man whose job was to help others in need, he’d never been a position before where he didn’t have the answer, where he couldn’t come up with a solution. His heart ached as the realisation that he could very well lose her settled over him, the statistic he’d calculated of her survival being a number that was way too low for Spencer’s liking. 

For the moment, he had no choice but to wait. 

It was all he could do. 

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @thelovelyrose​ @averyhotchner​ @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​ @reidyoulikeabook​ @katexrichardson​ @jemimah-b99​ @muffin-cup​ @shadyladyperfection​ @rigatonireid​ @amoeebaa​ @mggsprettygirl​  @alltooreid​ @s1utformgg @awritingtree

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[besotted-eros]

Visit from a Ghost

Eren x Fem!Reader

Content: Angst, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving), pining, overstim, dirty talk, slight blood, bruising, established relationship, canon compliant

A/N: so this is a companion piece to my obsessed! Eren headcanons and fic. References to manga spoilers, heavy on the angsty sex. Very self indulgent. Hope you enjoy!

When you saw the figure at your bedroom window, lounging upon the sill as though he was meant to be there, you drew your gun.

It was a small, angry thing, wrestled from the grasps of a Marleyan soldier and entrusted to you to help protect the queen. You had yet to use it, but levelled it naturally now, letting out a growled command for the shadowed being to raise his hands.

When you saw the figure turn from your bedroom window, lazily leaning his head back so his viridian gaze met yours, you dropped your gun.

It hit the floorboards with a metallic thud, and in a better context you would have held your breath, jumped away from the risk of a bullet discharging from the fall. But you were motionless, staring at the apparition in front of you. That was what he felt like. A ghost, conjured from beyond the veil.

"Eren." You said it like one calls to the dead, your voice shaky and unconfident. But brimming, with hope. With fear.

"I come all this way to see you, and your first reaction is to shoot me?" He murmured, his rich voice creeping through the dark to find the holes in your heart.

 Moth bitten, hung up in a closet and forgotten, you had lost the memory of the pain and euphoria that Eren brought you. But you could feel it now, searing your chest.

"You deserve worse. Months. It's been months." The words tumbled from your throat as you fought the urge to cry. "I didn't know where you were. For months. And they won't tell me what what happened, no one will." You felt like a child, choking on your words as your hands bunched into fists. The only thing you knew is that you were meant to raise the alarm as soon as you saw him. But you couldn't. Not for him. You wanted to fall to your knees, to see how he'd rush across the room to gather you in his arms.

"You don't want me to answer that truthfully." He moved from the windowsill, feet silently hitting the ground as he faced you completely.

You didn't recognize him. Those were the eyes of your lover, those the lips you kissed, the brow you rested yours upon. The man who was once the boy you slept beside, you fought beside, you grew beside. The face you had seen overcome with passion, with pain and glory. But he was stoic, as grey as the three walls. You had felt him slipping before Marley, but now?

Even though he was in the same room, breathing your air, he felt gone.

"I do. I know you're the one who pushed me onto this duty, you made Hisu call for me, and for what? To keep me stupid and ignorant?" You spat the words at his feet, and it made him bristle.

"To protect you, why else? This stupid farm house is the safest place on the island. Safer than any of the walls, or the inner castle, or-"

"Safer than with you?"

That touched him. The repetition of his vow, that as long as you were by his side you would come to no harm. That he would hold you with his heart and protect you with his life. As long as you stayed within reach of him.

"Yes. Safer than with me. So much safer." He didn't want that to be true. He wanted to be where you belonged.

But he needed to make the world safe for you.

"I needed to make sure you were taken care of, that I could do the things I was meant to do without risking you." He crossed his arms in front of his body, and the tone of his voice bordered on petulant. But despite his stoic face, you could tell he was nervous. The clench of his jaw, how his eyes looked past you instead of at you. This wasn't a man who had forgone emotions. Just a mask.

Maybe that was your Eren after all.

"I know you hate me-"

"I don't hate you." You cut him off sharply, reaching up to touch the pendant at your throat. It was a piece of sea glass, tumbled by the waves to the colour of his eyes. You had picked it up on a beach patrol, and told him how it matched him perfectly. He had stolen it out of your pocket that night and fashioned a cage with stolen wire. The next morning it hung from the leather cord his father's key once did, and found its permanent home upon your neck.

He told you it was his eye and his heart, and to keep watch over it as he kept watch over you.

He had been so gentle. You remembered how the sea breeze rustled the hair, grown to the nape of his neck, how he had given you a smile that had become so rare. He had known then that the boat would be returning without him.

"I don't hate you even if I want to. I never could. I... I miss you." The dam in your throat broke as you hiccuped a single sob. And the dam in his face broke, eyebrows upturned with remorse.

He had made you cry. 

"No, no, no." He murmured, crossing the floor to take you in his arms. He was taller, his body somehow even more wiry than when he had left. Toughened by hardship. But the way his fingers curled around the back of your head, the way his arm wrapped around your waist. That was how he held you. How he always had. The familiarity made you weak, and you clung to him desperately, fists mangling the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face against him.

"Y/n." He said it through gritted teeth, and then repeated it. And then again.

You thought back to every time you had embraced after being apart. The sound of his feet pounding the stone of Wall Maria to throw his arms around you, his cries of your name loud enough to send birds flying. How he had whispered your name when you saw him after Shiganshina, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the weight of the world suddenly so much more heavy upon his shoulders.

"Eren." You reached up, taking his face delicately in your hands. His malachite gaze was wide, wild with desperation and hurt. "What happened to you, 'ren?" You asked, and his eyes shut tightly. "What did you do?"

"Please. Don't ask me. I'll answer to God, but I can't answer to you."

You could have pressed. He would have given up, at least... The Eren who loved you a lifetime ago would have. But the darkness in his mouth when he pressed his lips to your forehead convinced you not to.

He had followed you so diligently when you were young. Seeking the peace he had somehow found in you. And as you pulled him towards your lips, you knew it was that same comfort he was searching for. Peace, amongst his life of nothing but war. So you kissed serenity onto his lips, knowing that this may be the last taste of it he would ever have.

He groaned softly against your mouth, still for a moment before pressing into the touch. His fingers were gentle as they brought you closer, and closer still. Tugging at your hips, your shoulders, your hair, coiling around your neck. He was rediscovering you, reminding himself of the map of your body. It was like he was finding his way home again.

"I missed you. I thought about you, so much." He exhaled over your lips, and you tried to keep the welling of your tears from spilling over again. You had needed that. Needed to know that he still breathed for you. "Even when it hurt. I thought about you."

"I thought about you too." You whispered, stroking your hands through his silken hair. "I hoped... I didn't think it was smart, but I hoped. You would come to me."

Your hands traversed his chest and back, running down his shoulders and muscular arms. You grabbed his wrists, feeling the bump of your hair tie still upon it. He lifted for you to see, and you pressed a kiss to his hot skin, unable to hold back the tears anymore. You watered his skin with them. 

"See? I kept you with me. Always." his mouth was against your forehead, tendons in his wrist flexing. "I lost a lot of myself. But I never lost you."

You let out a choked whimper and he pressed his cheek to yours, murmuring your name softly. Finally your knees gave out, but his arms were vices around your waist, holding you as you leaned against him. But he came down with you, kneeling with you in the puddle of moonlight. It painted him white and black, his shadows so much deeper but where it graced him, he glowed.

"I'm sorry." You sighed into his shoulder, all but pawing at his back. "I just... Am I dreaming, Eren? Are you going to be gone when my eyes open in the morning?"

He didn't answer for a moment, face buried in your hair. "I'm real. This is real. I promise."

"Prove it." You whispered, turning your mouth to his ear like a bloom to sun. "I've had this nightmare, every night since you've left. Prove this isn't one."

His fingers curled around your upper arms as his eyes bore into yours. They were shadowed, haunted by things you knew you'd never know. "Tell me how. I'll do anything for you."

Almost, you wanted to correct him. He'd do almost anything for you.

"Love me."

"I do." He murmured, voice strained as he moved to cup your face, his thumb stroking across your lips. You parted them, inviting his digit to press against your tongue. His eyes widened slightly, and you saw something spark. It encouraged you to wrap your lips around him, suckling at his first knuckle. You let it pop from your mouth, dragging your tongue from his palm to the pad.

"Show me. Show me the way only you can." You spoke softly against his skin, and he let out a soft groan, from deep deep within his chest.

"Only me?" He whispered hoarsely, hands squeezing the sides of your face. You nodded as best as you could. "You haven't touched another since I've been gone?"

"Of course not. Since that first night, since that first kiss..." You gripped his wrists tightly, voice thick with emotions you couldn't name. "It's only been you, forever just you."

He kissed you like he wanted to consume you. Open mouthed, hot breath, all teeth and clawing fingers. You fell into him, letting him pull you up and push you towards your bed. You fell backwards, welcoming the soft mattress against your back. A stark contrast to his body, all hard lines and firm hands.

Eren's heat was enough to melt you. You didn't realise you had been so cold. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling his warmth further against your core. He grunted softly against your mouth, jutting his hips forward so you could feel how you made him.

Your lips trailed from his, kissing along the sharp line of his jaw, up to his ear. You didn't need to say anything into it, just your breath made him wild. He tore at your shirt, sending buttons flying across the room as the moonlight met your skin. In response you pulled at his, unhooking your legs to push at his pants. You wanted skin, you wanted bare vulnerable touch. You wanted to see the parts of him he kept hidden.

He never scarred. Your hands traced the unmarred landscape of his torso as he flexed underneath you. No matter what horrors his body faced, it would never leave a lasting impression on him. The titan in him assured that.

You wondered if it was the same for love, as your teeth pricked at his skin, making him shiver. You marked him, delicate and light. In the sun it would look like stepping stones, tracing the path of a lovers touch. If it would even last till morning.

But you loved him anyway, even if it was temporary.

"So beautiful." His voice was guttural, hands cupping your breasts after yanking your bra down. Your nipples didn't have time to harden under his thumb before his mouth was upon them, suckling gently. You gripped his chestnut hair in response, letting out a soft whine of pleasure that encouraged him to suck harder. He switched sides, leaving the cold air to caress the wetness at your precipice.

"I can hear your heartbeat" he murmured, pausing for a moment to press himself against your flesh. "It's so fast."

Your nails traced vows on the back of his neck, down his back as far as you could reach. "You make me like this." You whispered, and his teeth sunk into your skin, making your back arch. "You scare me. You turn me on. You make my head dizzy and my st-stomach fill with butterflies." He stripped you as you spoke, pushing down the soft fabric of your pants, then the cotton of your panties. You felt the kiss of the cold night air for a moment, drifting through the window. And then his fingers were upon you, slowly stroking along your aching entrance and your slick lips.

"I make you wet." He murmured against your skin, and you flushed, nodding.

"Yes, you do." You responded, moving your hips along his hand, encouraging him. He obliged happily, digits wet with your desire now sliding into your hole. You had been so long neglected, not feeling the desire to even touch yourself without him there to see. He could feel your tightness, how you gripped his fingers.

"My sweetheart," he purred, lifting his face to gaze up at you. His eyes were heavy lidded, almost hiding the jade irises that haunted your dreams. "You're so tight, spread your legs." You obeyed him as easily as breathing, opening your legs as he began to kiss his way further down. You whined again, and his fingers gripped your thighs, forcefully enough to close them slightly.

"The fucking noises you make..." He hissed, breath hot against your pussy. He dragged a tongue from the bottom, to the very top, glancing off of your clit in a way that made you cry out. "I want you to keep quiet so we don't get caught but..." Another languid lick, another lewd gasp. "I want to make you scream too."

Your hand came down hard on the back of his head, gripping his hair tightly. He groaned against you, sending vibrations through you. You didn't mean to be hard, to have tugged so roughly. But Eren loved it, eyes glinting as he sank his tongue into you, letting your plush walls envelope the muscle eagerly. Each time your hand twitched, responding to the waves of pleasure he drew from you, you'd pull more. And it would drive him forward, tongue sliding across your lips desperately, lips closing around your clit to suckle at it.

Your body was uncontrollable, hips lifting from the bed and chest heaving. At points it felt like he was drinking from you, loud slurps as he thumbed your clit. The movement repeated, becoming faster and faster. The pleasure mounted, a  knot tightened where his tongue touched you.

"Do it." He purred against you, feeling how your legs trembled and thighs touched his ears. He knew you, knew what every jerk of your body meant. "On my tongue, want to taste you."

That was what made the bud burst, your hips rocking desperately against him as your pussy fluttered, overcome with its first orgasm in months. It coursed through you, and you felt the bed wet with your love. 

Your toes curled with pleasure and you moved onto your elbows, staring down at him.

"Eren," you whimpered, and his eyes opened once more. From your vantage point you could see how his hips moved, thrusting slowly against the mattress. He was as desperate for you as you were for him."Eren I need you. I need you so bad." With a final pop of your clit, one that made you gasp, he pulled back and straightened up. His cock bobbed as he looked at you, eyes filled with a dangerous mixture of love and lust. He was dripping, your wetness from his chin and his pre-cum from his mushroom head.

"How badly?"

You brought your legs to your chest slowly, and his eyes dropped from your face to your heat. Your hole closed around emptiness, so desperate to be filled. "More than anything."

His fist closed around his shaft, stroking slightly as he stared at you with a slack jaw, face softened with awe. He always looked at you as though you hung the moon. As if you were responsible for everything soft and wonderful in the world. You watched as he touched himself and his mouth twisted into a grin.

"Did this..." He whispered, his hand moving faster, the noises filling the room. They were hot, lewd. The hot slick of his skin, your moans rising to meet it. "Did this when I thought of you."

The thought of him, so far away from you, deep in trouble but still overcome by his want, the aching need of you. It was enough to make you gush visibly, and Eren moaned at the sight. Before you had the chance to beg again he was at your entrance, hands pushing on the backs of your thighs. You pulled at him, bringing him to your lips so you could kiss your moans into his mouth.

Because the moment he started pushing, moan you did. Loud and desperate, feeling how he spread you. How he made you stretch to fit him like a glove.

He was mumbling in your ear, alternating between sweet calls of your name and darkened swears. Your nails dragged down his back, digging into his smooth skin and making steam rise. His hips were slow, but only for a moment. The need took over quickly, and you bucked to meet him as best as you could. But he was long, long enough to make you start each time he bottomed out in you.

"Eren, Eren, Eren," you whispered into the dark, each iteration becoming more and more sloppy. He grabbed your face, pulling himself up so he could stare at you. Sweat beaded on his elegant forehead, his long hair slicked back. But his eyes glowed in the lowlight, focusing on your face as though nothing but you existed.

He pounded you in time with your chants, each drill concentrated on getting as much of himself into you as he could. He filled your needy hole like he filled your heart. Wholly, fully. Enough to make your eyes well with tears.

He caught one that trickled down the side of your face, lapping it up with his long tongue. You gasped for air, twisting his hair in your fingers as legs wrapped around him desperately. You wanted to stay like this, stay connected to him forever. His hands traversed you, finding the places he had made home. The curve of your waist, the precipice of your hips, the valley under your ass as he pulled you up further, hitting you now at an angle that dragged across the nub on your inner wall.

And then he lifted you, pulling back to sit on his heels and to suspend you in his arms. You grasped his face as you looked down at him, your hair falling like a curtain. Hiding him from the world, the world that would take him from you. He was beautiful. All wild eyes, soft pouting lips. His fine features were shadowed, his expression twisted with pleasure. You kissed him, once. Twice. Three times. Each time deeper.

Stay here.

You wanted to say as he began to bounce you, sliding you upon his length, fingers digging into the soft plush of your ass.

Stay here, we can be okay.

His mouth was hot on your neck and shoulders, leaving bruises that you worried would outlast him.

Stay here, I can love you safe here.

But all that came out of your mouth was a keening moan, your walls fluttering as you came like a river, washing over him. Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, the wave of euphoria making you tremble and making him growl. He bite your shoulder, drawing soft droplets of blood, and you felt his hips stutter, and the telltale wetness that heralded his own cum. Filling you, as it should. He moaned, vulnerable and wanton into your shoulder.

"That's fucking it, baby. Cream on my cock." He cooed, his pace unrelenting as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. You were relieved when he let you fall back onto the bed, eyes opening to pull in for a kiss.

But he didn't stop.

"Er-eren..." You whimpered, and he kissed you hard, enough to bruise the pulp of your lip.

"Hold on... Hold on to me..." He whispered, teeth dragging across your sensitive flesh. You obliged, throwing your arms around his neck, legs circling him and pulling him in to the hilt. He pulled back, snapping in quickly, his pace sloppy and hurried.

"Need more...need more of you and I..." A gasp, a throb from deep within you. "need to give you all of me."

You were seeing stars. Bursting across your vision like supernovas. Though your limbs clung to him, the pleasure grew almost unbearable. A burning fire twisting between your legs, making you jerk and throb. It's like you could feel him in ways you never could.

The drip of his sweat, watering the forgotten lands of your body. The way his skin soothed yours, healing empty wounds. How his hair shifted, a lock falling to caress your cheek.

And his heartbeat. You felt it. Inside you, beating as though it was your own. The sensation drove you wild, clawing at his shoulders and yanking at his ochre locks.

"Gonna- it's gonna..." You whimpered, unable to form coherence. He drove into you faster, nodding against you. You were reduced to a babbling mess, eyes rolled back, mouth slack.

"Yeah, yeah baby yeah me too. Gonna cum in you again. Take it, take me. Take it all." He said, his voice thick with lust as he clawed into you, the slam of his hips hitting you in the most unimaginable of ways. He reared back suddenly, gripping your face hard enough to hurt as he placed his brow to yours.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." You replied, and with that you were both over the cliff, bodies shaking with pleasure. He filled you, his hot cum spurting from the slight space between you. His hand slammed against the head board, chest heaving, hips stuttering. But his eyes never left yours, gaze glazed with pleasure. His weight collapsed against you, and you cradled him, murmuring as his lips pressed to yours.

"Say it again." He demanded, hand moving to cup your cheek. "Say you love me."

"I love you." You turned your head to kiss his palm. "I love you, Eren. I love you."

He let out a soft sound, resting his mouth against your cheek. "More." He demanded, rolling over now and pulling you with him. His arms caged you, in a way that made you never want to be free. "I want a lifetimes worth."

"I'll give you a few months." You muttered, and could feel him smile against the top of your head. You wondered when was the last time he did that. When would be the next. "Just to catch you up." His hands stroked through your hair, teasing knots from it. You laid your ear flat to his toned chest. "You'll have to get the rest next time." His hand faltered and then tightened, pushing you into him. You could hear his heart pick up speed.

"Y/n-"

"Don't." You interrupted him. It was sharper than you intended, but you thought you had the right to it. "Don't say a word."

He went silent, resuming his grooming of your locks.

"Tell me we'll see each other again. Even if it's for a moment. Just once more. I don't want this to be it." His hands flattened on your back as he held you.

"I promise." He murmured. "We'll see each other again. But by then you'll hate me."

You didn't argue. Somehow you knew.

"For now, I love you." You pulled yourself to him, kissing his mouth with sweetness. You whispered it, over and over. Like a promise. Like a prayer. You said until your voice was hoarse, curled up on your side as his body surrounded you. You fell asleep with it on your tongue.

And you woke up to an empty bed.

[walkerwords]

“Hey Brother” Carl Grimes & Sister!Reader

GIF CREDIT: @thetruthwecanthandlee​

REQUEST: From anonymous: “Hello! Just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to request a Carl x platonic reader where the reader is either his older sister or his close friend and she intervenes when he's about to be bitten, saving his life. You can decide if the reader dies as a result or not, I just think Carl deserved better than he got. If you don't feel like writing this, no worries!”

Word Count: 2748

Warning: Swearing, Angst

Song I Wrote To: “Hey Brother” by Avicii

Note: Carl is not someone who I generally write, but I do like Chandler and the character so I am giving it a shot! 

----------

Even after years of being out in the world riddled with the Dead, you never got used to the groans of Walkers. 

Stepping over one rotten corpse, you encountered another. You held your weapon in your hand, an old fire ax you had found in Woodbury when rescuing Daryl and Merle. Being a firefighter was something you once really wanted. However, when the world ends, becoming a civil servant becomes impossible. Still, being able to wield the equipment did put a smile on your face most days. 

As the Walker approached, you jabbed the crowbar end of the fire ax into its skull. Kicking it away, you continued moving the woods that surrounded Alexandria in search of your brother, Carl. When the turn happened, you had been with Carl and his mother, Lori. Your dad was in the hospital after being shot on the job and you had come home from college to help Lori with your younger brother. 

You and Lori had never gotten along and you didn’t know if that was because she never liked your mother, Dianne, or because Rick had tried everything to keep you in his life. Regardless of what Lori Grimes thought, you weren’t going to let anything happen to Carl and you had kept the promise. 

Even now. 

When Rosita told you that she had seen Carl leaving Alexandria earlier, you had grabbed your weapon and went in search of him. Right now was not the time for him to be out beyond the walls. Not when Negan and the Saviors could show up at any moment and make another move against you and your allies. With Rick and Michonne out in the world as well and Daryl being difficult, you had to be the one to drag Carl’s ass back home.

Negan was a headache for you, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t the worst thing out there. When he had killed Glenn and Abraham, you hadn’t been there. You had been with Tara and Heath, searching for supplies. After finding Oceanside and losing Heath, you had arrived home with Tara to a grieving family and a missing Daryl. 

The first time you had met Negan, Carl had almost shot two of his Saviors. You had arrived just in time to grab the gun from him before he could. That was when Rick introduced you to Negan and he had offered you his hand. Not wanting to piss him off any further, you had shaken his hand, squeezing a bit too hard. He had seemed amused by you, but also wary. Growing up on the streets of Atlanta, you knew how to survive and you also knew how to deal with power-hungry men. Negan concerned you, but you weren’t afraid of him. 

Carl, however, had another opinion. At first, the teenager wanted nothing more than to fill the man with bullets, but after his outing to the Sanctuary, he seemed to have a change of heart. Carl had come to you only a few days earlier and proposed an idea of a truce. He didn’t think the fighting was going to stop any time soon and while you agreed, you knew Negan would never agree to it. The war would only end when either he or your father was dead. 

When you had told Carl this, he had stormed off annoyed. As the older sibling it was your job to tell him how the world worked and when it came to men like Negan, you either had to kill him or appeal to a new side. That was where your plan came to mind, but you knew that Carl would never go for it. 

You didn’t even want to know what your father would think about it if it came up in conversation. However, for now, you had to focus on finding the kid before he did something even more stupid considering the last time he had gone off, he had attacked the loading dock of the Sanctuary with a rifle. 

Shouldering your ax, you picked up the pace a bit. 

“Carl!” you yelled, hearing your voice echo off the trees. “Carl!” 

The woods answered with silence and you could feel the anxiety growing in your gut as you searched. Climbing up another small hill, you finally heard a commotion in the distance. Not knowing what you were running towards, you sprinted through the dying land. Nearly tripping on roots and downed Walkers, you came across a scene that made the air fly from your chest. 

Carl was on the ground as Walkers pinned him down. There was another man nearby, exhausted and trying to get to his feet. Charging forward, you swung the ax, taking off the head of the Walkers closest to Carl. Another grabbed you, baring its teeth and you slammed your boot down on its jaw, separating it from its head. A third Walker then grabbed you and took you to the ground. Shoving your arm under its chin, you managed to get enough leverage to push it off. Your shirt sleeve tore from the force and then blood sprayed you as you pierced its skull with the steel weapon. 

Laying there for a second, you turned to look at your brother who was looking over at himself in worry. “You good?” you asked, your eyes also scanning his body for cuts or bites. 

“All in one piece,” he said with a relieved sigh. “You?”

“Pissed that I just washed these jeans,” you said with a huff as you sat up, pushing the corpse off your legs. Getting to your feet, you offered your hand to Carl who took it and stood up with your assistance. “Who’s this?” you asked, gesturing to the timid man. 

“Siddiq,” Carl said. “He needs our help.” Sighing, you glanced between your brother and the newcomer. 

“Carl, we shouldn’t be taking in strays when we are at war,” you said, needing him to understand. 

“Since when did we stop helping people? I thought that was what this place was all about,” he argued. 

“Last time we helped people, they sent us into a lion’s den that eventually pissed off the leader of the Saviors. We have to be careful and you know it.” 

“I’m not okay with just turning the other way anymore,” he said. 

“Carl…” you began, but he wasn’t done. 

“Aaron helped us!” Carl said. “He brought us here and he saved us when we were starving and on the road. Jesus helped us when we needed food, Ezekiel, too! We took in people at the prison and even helped Gabriel when nobody wanted to. We help people, that is what we do.” 

Looking at him, you started to see more of your father in him by the moment. When he was younger, all you could see was Lori, but in the new world and as he matured, he was beginning to act and look more like your father every day. 

The looks weren’t the only thing that he had from Rick, he also had his heart and while your father’s head was a bit all over the place at the moment, you knew that he had always stood by the fact that people were needed for survival. 

“You’re right,” you said and then took off your canteen from your belt and offered it to Siddiq who took it timidly. Carl nodded to him and he began to drink the cool water. Letting him recuperate, you turned back to your brother. “I know you want to help people, but going off on your own right now is suicide.”

“Because of Negan?” Carl asked and then shook his head. “He would never hurt me.”

“How are you so sure about that, huh?”

“Because he has had lots of opportunities and he’s never done it. He just likes to piss me off and make jabs, but he won't kill him.” 

“Negan may not be the one to worry about. I’m sure there are plenty of Saviors out there that would love to see Rick’s son on a pike.” Carl frowned at that. “Look, just think before you do or you’re going to end up dead and you’re going to be taking down any new friends with you,” you said, pointing to Siddiq. 

“I don’t want to hear this,” Carl said, turning away. 

“I have an idea that may sway Negan,” you said and he paused, turning back to look at you. “Though, you and Dad may hate it. Well, I know for a fact you’re going to hate it.” Carl furrowed his brow as he looked at you, trying to see where your head was at. Then, he remembered the comments Negan made about you when he first met you and the jokes he said in front of Amber and Sherry when he went to the Sanctuary. 

“No,” Carl said quickly. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you challenged. 

“You want to marry him,” Carl said and you sighed, hating how well he knew you. 

“I don’t want to do anything, Carl,” you said. “But yes, that was the idea.” 

“No,” he said again. 

“It would work,” you said with a shrug. 

“Bullshit,” he countered. “We don’t even know if he’d even want that and then what? You basically sell yourself for a ceasefire that’s not guaranteed to even happen. Then you’d be a damn prisoner in that place.”

“Daryl got out, so can I,” you argued. 

“He got out only after one of Negan’s wives felt she owed Daryl! This is the most ridiculous plan you have ever had!” he shouted at you. Siddiq had taken a few paces back to give you and your brother some room to talk, but he was looking more nervous every time one of you went up an octave. 

“This is my decision, Carl,” you said, lowering your volume a bit. 

“What would Mom think?” Carl said, crossing his arms. His eyes were boring into yours, almost pleading. With a shrug, you brushed off his question. 

“Your mother never fucking liked me,” you said with a scoff. 

“She treated you like you were one of her own, especially after the Turn.” 

“No, she didn’t,” you disagreed, “and I’m not. I am not her daughter, but I am still yours and Judith’s sister and Dad’s daughter. It is my job to keep this family safe and if marrying Negan is the way to do it, then so be it!” 

“Who says it's your job to be a martyr?”

“Me,” you argued, sounding very much like Dianne. 

“And you think Negan will keep you safe?” he asked, throwing his hands up. 

“He has to have some kind of honor, right?” you asked, thinking of the broad-chested man with a habit for bloodshed. 

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who says I do?” you asked. “Carl, I don’t want to do it, but if it stops more people from dying then isn’t it worth it?”

“You have already made too many sacrifices for this family,” he said, his tone softer. “Ever since the world turned, you have been putting yourself in danger. You were the one who stopped Shane from going after Andrea on the farm when he was going crazy; You were the one who exchanged yourself for Maggie with the Governor; You were the one who tried to take Noah’s place at Grady trying to save Beth; You were the one who nearly died trying to get Cyndie to work with us in the war. When are you going to stop trying to fix everything and start looking out for yourself?”

“Says the one who hitched a ride into the Sanctuary and went all Al Capone on Negan’s men,” you reminded him. 

“I was angry,” he rationalized.

“And you don’t think I’m not? I’m furious! When I found out what he did to Glenn and Abraham, I couldn’t breathe. Then the way he gutted Monroe in the street as if he was nothing more than a sack of meat? Fuck, Carl, I have never felt more anger towards anyone.”

“Because he’s killed people?” 

“What? No, not because he’s killed people, we’ve all killed people. I’m angry at Negan because he made me realize that this is how humanity is now. I was happy to keep believing that we could get back to who we used to be, but let’s fucking face it, humans have never been saints. Negan proved that to me.”

“And yet you want to marry him?”

“I want to stop him from killing more of us! I want the damn fighting to stop and if there is even a chance that it does with both him and Dad alive, it’s worth it because if I’m being honest, Carl, I don’t see us winning this war.” 

“You have to have faith,” he said and you snorted. 

“I stopped having faith the day the fire fell on my city,” you said. 

“I’m willing to fight him,” Carl said, stepping closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to be the only one to make sacrifices.”

“But I can’t let you,” you whispered. “Judith needs you, Carl. She needs you alive and fighting for her future.”

“She needs both of us,” he urged. “When I was growing up, you were a hero to me. All I wanted to be was like my big sister and I know now that to do that, I have to tell you when it's time to stop taking on the world alone. When the prison fell and we lost you, I thought I’d never see you again. When we found you with Maggie, I promised I would never let you go again. Don’t make me break that promise, please.”

“Carl, stop,” you said, running a hand over his face, just below his bandage. “You’re giving me way too much credit, kid.”

“You deserve it,” he said. “You’ve never let me down, but if you go with him, you will. We’re Grimes, and that means we don’t take shit from anyone. Alright?” With a deep breath, you swallowed thickly, looking at your baby brother for a moment, trying to take in his newfound resilience and courage. It warmed your heart. 

“I was going to say that it’s your time to step up as the older sibling, but it looks like you already have,” you said through a thick voice. Carl rolled his eye. 

“Shut up,” he said as he tugged you into a hug. You wrapped your arm around him, clutching him close to you. 

“I love you, Carl,” you whispered in his ear. 

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” he said. “And don’t start thinking you're out of a job just yet just because I stopped taking orders from you. I’m happy with being the middle child for now.” Pulling back, you nodded to him, adjusting the brim of his hat. 

“Fair enough,” you said, wiping at invisible tears on your face. Finally realizing Siddiq was still standing around, you snapped out of your thoughts. “You should take him back home,” you said with an awkward cough. “He does need help and we should do it, you’re right. As always.” 

“You’re coming too?”

“In a bit, I’m going to do a final sweep, just in case anyone else is lurking around,” you said and he nodded, picking up his gun that had fallen when he was accosted by the Dead. 

“Come on, man,” Carl called to Siddiq. “Hey!” he called to you as you turned toward the South. “No, Negan,” he said, his face pleading. 

“I won’t,” you said with a sigh. “I promise you.” Carl smiled at you softly, happy with your answer. Carl helped Siddiq as they headed back to Alexandria. You watched him walk away until the trees swallowed up the pair. 

The lump in your throat was suffocating as you struggled to stay on your feet. Carl was right, Grimes never gave up, but sometimes they didn’t have a choice. With a shaky breath, you pushed up the sleeve of your right hand, the one that the Walker had torn. Through fresh blood, you could make out a double crescent shape wound in the tanned flesh of your arm. 

The bite was burning as blood streamed down your arm and dripped off your fingers. Repressing the urge to scream in sorrow, you tugged your sleeve back down and with glistening eyes, looked back towards Alexandria.

“I’m sorry, little brother.”

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @yes-sir-hotchner​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ @huffledor-able541​ 

[reidgraygubler]

out of the ordinary (chip taylor/reader)

Title: Out Of The Ordinary

Request: no

Couple: Chip Taylor/Fem!Reader

Category: smut/angst

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem), sex while someone is injured, breeding kink, groping, praise kink, multiple orgasms, hair pulling), swearing, blood and other bodily fluids, graphic descriptions of violence(!!!!), mentions of sexual acts, 68 Kill Spoilers, mentions of a dead partner, mentions of drugs (unknown), guns and gun violence, talks about kids (in the very far future),

Word Count: 9,562

Summary: Reader works at a hotel where she sees a lot of things out of the ordinary… Including a man running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist. If only she knew her day was about to get weirder

A/N: day three of what might have been the biggest mistake of my life. But i had fun! Idk how april does it bc i was struggling. Anyways, here is some chip smut. I didn’t edit this too super well, so please pardon any of the editing errors/grammatical issues. The next ones will/are beta’d and edited… thank you so much for sticking with me on this! Tomorrow is something i had a lot of fun writing!  Here is the masterlist for 7days 7fics! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support! 

{***}{***}{***}

I wish that even though I lived in a small town, in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere, I would see normal things. You know? Things that happen in small towns in the middle fucking nowhere. But, because it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the highway goes right through the middle of our town, we get a lot of… interesting guests. Which makes my job a little entertaining, sometimes. 

Sitting behind a window at a tiny, run-down hotel early morning to mid-afternoon was what I did for a living. 90% of the time I spent my time just sitting there, reading a book/magazine, messing around on my phone, or working on an assignment for my class. That other 10% is checking people in or out of their rooms. 

My day was so close to coming to an end. 11:30… I just needed to be here for one more hour, and then I can go home and go to bed. And, surprisingly, nothing weird had happened. It was a successful day, praise the fucking Lord or whoever is watching down. 

Until, I jinxed myself…I thought I had hit the one allotted out of the ordinary thing for the day. That was until, as I was finishing up this essay, and I heard something from out in the parking lot. When I looked away from my laptop to investigate. And what I saw was not what I was expecting, at all.

A tall man was running across the parking lot, coming right towards the check-in/out window. Now, you might be wondering why this was out of the ordinary. Well, you see, he was running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a face washcloth around his waist. Let’s just say it left little to nothing to the imagination. 

“H-hey! Hi,” he spoke, coming right up to the counter. I was more than happy that there was a counter and window between the two of us. I’m happy he was attractive, in all sense of the words. He was very attractive.  “Do… Do you have a phone… That I could borrow?” he asked, looking at me with actual worry and terror in his eyes and face. I stared at him with a raised brow.

“What happened to the one in your room?” I moved away from my laptop and leaned on the counter beside it. He looked over his shoulder at the room he stayed in. I cocked my head to my shoulder and stared at him. “What room number are you?”

“Uh, that… That doesn’t really matter? Um, I’m running late,” he cringed as he looked back at me. I blinked slowly before looking down at the clipboard with the most recent check-ins. 

“Sure,” I looked right at the last name and noted the time he checked in, “Mister Delacroix?” I slowly looked back at him.

“Chip,”

“Well, listen, Chop,” I paused my words as I walked over to the door to let him in. I was just happy he didn’t correct me when I called him the wrong name. I could have corrected myself, but I was just annoyed that I’d probably have to take care of the mess in his room.

“The owner’s son texted me, telling me that the people in your room had a rager last night… So, if I have to go clean that room and see cum and piss all over the room, and a coke tray on the counters, I’m charging you double,” I looked up at him as he entered the office. He was a lot taller standing in front of me. I don’t know why I thought he was shorter. Maybe its because he was standing on lower ground and I was inside.

  “I… Rager?” He stared at me with a confused crease in his brow. I stared at him before slowly nodding. “Do… Do you know who came over? Do you know who it was?”

“I… Uh, I’ll have to ask the owner’s son. But, by the sounds of it, it was a little rough. I’m surprised you’re still up and walking without a limp,” I chuckled. I slowly looked up and down his body, taking in how he looked. He was slightly muscular, and though he had abs, his tummy was slightly pudgy. Which I could get with. I could appreciate a bit of a tummy on a guy like him. 

“Listen,” he started, his words showing more urgency than before. I looked up, away from his body and at his face. It was probably his urgency that got my attention because I definitely almost went a little lower than the towel. “I need to know-Do you have any clothes? This is slightly distracting,” he looked at me. I wasn’t too sure if he was talking distracting for me, or for him. But I do agree, it was very distracting.

“Uhm,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I pulled my stare off him and went to look for the lost and found box, “There’s not much in here, but I’m sure there’s something,” I glanced at him as I placed the box on the counter. 

“Right, thanks,” Chip looked at me before going to dig around in the box, “Do you know who came to my room last night?” 

“I think… Hold on,” I muttered before rushing to the counter, shuffling some papers to find a random sticky note with some sloppy hand writing, “Christ, I forget he doesn’t speak english,” I shook my head as I stared at the writing. “Some goth chick and her boyfriend, or whatever. Uh, yeah, he told me about it this morning before he left. Like, 6 other people I think,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head, “It sounds like they roughed the place up?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he looked away from the box for a brief moment. I watched as he pulled out a white and red t-shirt (that was left behind by a group of younger women) and a pair of sweat-shorts. “Great, now I gotta go back to that fucking gas station. Fucking fuck,” he muttered to himself as he dropped the towel to the ground. I widened my eyes and couldn’t help but stare at his ass.

“Gas station?” I asked, keeping my eyes on his body as he turned to face me. That was when I got a view of the full frontal package. I swallowed roughly.

“Are… Are you going to turn around?” he looked at me with nervousness in his eyes as he held the pants and shirt close to his body, lower towards his crotchal region. I smirked, raising an eyebrow and cocking my head to the side.

“Nope,” I looked up at him with a smile. When I noticed that he wasn’t going to move to get dressed, I dropped my shoulders before turning around.

“Which gas station are you talking about?” I asked, looking at the ground. I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked which gas station it was he was talking about. There was just one gas station in the whole town, and I knew he was in a bit of trouble.

  From behind me, I could hear Chip muttering strings of profanities to himself. Part of me wondered if he needed help with anything, or if I was just a disposable person in his day. Probably the latter. 

“The one down the street,” his voice was low. I wondered what he was thinking about and what his urgency was all about. “You can turn around. Can I use the phone,” he asked as I turned to face him. I looked at him and held back a laugh. Which, in turn, earned a glare from him. 

“Yeah, yeah, you have to dial 1 before the number you’re calling,” I went to move the phone closer to him, nearly pushing/pulling everything off the counter. 

“Thanks,” he looked over at me before picking up the phone and dialing his number. I watched as he turned away from me. He wasn’t on the phone for very long, and it didn’t sound like it was a good call. 

“I… I gotta go. Can I use your car?” Chip asked as he looked out at the only car in the lot. I followed his gaze at my shitty 2001 Saturn. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking back at him.  

“I can just give you a ride, you know… And, it’d probably be better if you had a partner with you. That phone call didn’t sound good… At all. And, no one will take you seriously dressed like that,” I nodded at his attire. He looked down at what he was wearing before looking back at me. “Back up just in case? No one will notice I’m gone,” I let out a dry laugh. 

“It’ll be dangerous,” he looked at me with worry in his eyes. I shrugged before looking at the ground.

“I could use a little danger in my life,” I laughed before looking back at him, “I’ve been sitting in this stupid office, doing this stupid job since I was 16. The hundreds of people I’ve seen is crazy. This job is boring, I need something risky.” I explained when I noticed he needed more information.

“You could die,” he pointed out. I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I could die just sitting here. Let me help you,” I stare at him with wide eyes. He looked at the ground and sighed. I could tell he wanted to fight with me, to get me to stay. But I could also tell he really needed help, and really needed to get out of this stupid town and state. 

“Fine, you can come. But, you can’t ask any questions,” he pointed at me. I smiled before closing my laptop and grabbing for my car keys.

“Fine, let’s go,” I looked at him before pushing past him and leaving the office.  

Chip was close behind me, still muttering to himself. From what I did hear, I heard the number 68,000 and then the word dollars. 68,000 dollars??? And he’s in a shit town like this?! What the fuck? What the fuck am I getting myself into? Fuck, this is a mistake… Fuck. 

The ride to the gas station was quiet. Chip must have been thinking of what he was going to say or do when he got there. Let’s just hope it wasn’t Monica there. Bitch is crazy.

“Stay here, I have a feeling what I need isn’t here,” he muttered as he got out of the car. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“W-w-wait, you don’t want me to go with?” I asked as I slipped out of the car too, “Listen, I know the family that owns this gas station. They’re crazy. They’re nuts.”

“I got it. Just… just wait here,” he looked over at me one last time before going in. I stared at the door that he disappeared into before slamming the door shut. I leaned against the side of my car, patiently waiting for Chip to come back out. 

I don’t even know how long he was in there for. But, it was a very long time. Worry took over as I began to overthink things. That dumb bitch probably killed him. 

My worry melted away once he stepped outside with nothing but shame on his face. I raised an eyebrow, watching as he walked closer to me and my car. 

“You look like you saw a ghost or something,” I chuckled as I pushed myself off my car and back around to the drivers’ side of the car.

“No, no it was much worse than a ghost,” he muttered before getting in the car himself. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked towards the doors of the gas station. 

“Whatever,” I shook my head before slipping into the car, “Where to now? Monica’s trailer?” I raised an eyebrow as I glanced over at Chip. I watched as he pulled something out of his mouth and wrinkled his nose. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked over at me before looking around my car. 

“Do you have a plan? Or… Or a gun?” I asked as we got closer to the trailer park. He looked at me with a little terror in his eye. No plan or gun? Seriously? Good thing there’s a gun in my glove box. “You can’t go to these guys with just luck, Chip. That’ll get you killed,” I glanced at him as I reached over for the glove box, pulling it open and pulling out the gun.

“What the fuck! Where did that come from?” he asked, watching as I placed the gun on my lap. I glanced at him as I pressed down on the gas, speeding down the highway. “Jesus! Slow down,”

“You’re the one who fucking lost $68,000 to fucking Monica! You go in and get her money-”

“It’s not her-”

“It’s her money now, Chip. Jesus, she stole 3 of my bikes when we were little,” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Chip looked at me again and nodded. “You’re lucky you have help,” I muttered as I kept my eyes on the road. 

“You know this bitch?” Chip stared at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“She’s my, like, second cousin. My Dad’s niece’s kid,” I shrugged before shaking my head, “She’s a cunt. A fucking cunt,” I scoffed as I remembered my childhood with her. Chip was silent as I pulled into a driveway and parked the car. 

“Oh good, looks like there’s a metal baseball bat in the yard,” I smiled at him. Chip looked at me with wide eyes, actual terror sitting in his eyes. I watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt and rested his hand on the latch to my car. He stayed still for a moment before turning to face me. I could tell that there was a moment of hesitation. I don’t blame him, do be honest. I hesitated to bring him here. Taking him here is basically signing his death warrant.

“Stay… Stay here… If I’m not out in an hour… Call the cops,” he looked at me before slipping out of the car. I watched as he walked up the driveway, picking up the metal bat, and walked towards the door. I almost got out of the car and went after him, but I didn’t. I’ll listen to him. He must have a plan worked out if he didn’t need my help yet.

I swallowed roughly, watching him knock on the door and wait for it to swing open. And when it did, a familiar looking guy stepped out of the trailer. It was obvious he was sizing Chip up, mocking him as he spoke. Chip looked over his shoulder at me, silently pleading for help of some sort. I shrugged, pretending like I didn’t understand what he was asking for. 

A bell ringing came up the driveway and passed me. A familiar blonde riding a bike rode up the driveway. 

“Oh, you again,” Chip spoke out loud at the blonde woman. Amy… Of course. Of course she shows up. She’s probably the one who told him where that bitch, Monica, even lived. I was just happy she didn’t even see me when she rode past me. I didn’t want to be a part of any of that bullshit.

Then he was pulled into the trailer. 

“Fuck, this… This isn’t going to be good,” I muttered as I slouched down into my seat in the safety of my car. I wished there was something more that I could do to help him. Because just sitting here for an hour and waiting to call the cops won’t help me or him, specifically Chip. Fucking around with Monica and her… I don’t even know what to call the people she hands out with. 

I grabbed for my gun again, pulling out the magazine and looking at how much ammo I had. Just as I put my hand on the handle to get out, a loud bang came from near the trailer, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I sat, frozen, paralyzed in my spot, staring at the trailer. They’ve just killed Chip. Or, Chip just killed them 

“I don’t know what… What do I do…” I whispered to myself as I stared at the door from the safety of my car. I wasn’t prepared for this at all. What I should have done was follow my own advice to Chip and come up with a secondary plan… I can’t exactly go in there guns blazing… Unless, that’s exactly what I do. They won’t expect Chip to have a partner with him. 

Okay, that’s it… That’s my plan… Bust into the trailer, and just go for it… But, I think… Should I wait the hour Chip told me to wait? What if he’s in trouble? Who am I kidding, he’s totally in trouble. 

{***}{***}{***}

I just wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. Because, the next thing I knew it  was morning and Chip was still in Monica’s trailer. Chip was still in danger.  

I quickly fumbled my way out of the back seat and into the front. It was even worse as I rushed to get out of the car, my body nearly falling to the ground. When I was finally out of the car, I recollected myself, hyping myself up as I walked towards the trailer. 

 I had my gun tucked into the back of my pants as I walked. I didn’t want to be quick, but I also didn’t want to be slow. Chip could be in danger, and it was a little bit my fault. He’d be out of that situation if I hadn’t fallen asleep.

My fist carefully knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer sooner rather than later. When the door flew open, Monica was standing in the door frame, looking down at me with slight disgust.

“We don’t want girl scout cookies,” she looked down at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Good thing I’m not a girl scout, Monica,” I took a deep breath before pulling the gun out from my pants. I lifted it up and pointed it right at her chest. “Where’s Chip,” 

“You want him?” Monica asked, cocking a hip as she leaned against the door frame. She wasn’t even bothered by my weapon being pointed at her chest. It was like she was used to it. “He brought you as back up? Oh that poor boy?” she looked down at the gun. I took a deep breath as I stared at her.  

She knew I wasn’t going to use it. She knew me well enough to know that I just had this stupid gun for looks, and that I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. But, what she doesn’t know is that I’m not afraid of her anymore. She may have tormented me when we were kids. But I’m taking it all back now. 

“Where’s Chip and the money, Monica,” I spoke, my voice low as I spoke. I slowly cocked my gun as I stared at her. 

“Oh, you know about the money too?” she asked before looking into the trailer at her friends and, I’d assume, Chip. “Did you hear that? This slut knows about the money,” she spoke, looking at everyone. I swallowed roughly as she looked back at me, “Is she replacing that other slut we killed last night?” 

“Just go! Get out of here!” I could hear Chip yell from somewhere in the trailer. Monica stared down at me, watching me as my hands shook with the weapon in hand. 

“Too afraid to use that gun?” she mocked in a whiny tone. I blinked slowly as I moved my finger to the trigger. Everything happened so fast, when I opened my eyes, Monica was stumbling back, her hand over stomach where blood was spilling out. Blood was being coughed up as she fell against the couch, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You actually did it,” she coughed, staring at me terror in her eyes. 

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Monica,” I spoke as I stepped into the trailer. I smiled as I looked down at her, cocking my gun and pointing it down at her again, “You terrorized me when we were kids… But not anymore… No,” I took a deep breath before as we made eye contact.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whimpered, looking at me, struggling to move as I got closer to her, “Listen, you can take Chip, and… and the money and go… I’ll leave you alone now…” 

“Sorry just isn’t going to do it, Monica, not this time… Not ever,” I shook my head, “You can burn in hell for all I care,” I scoffed as I stared at her. Blood was dripping down the sides of her lips as she pleaded with me, but at this point I didn’t care about anything she was saying. 

Chip called my name, causing me to look over at him. They really did a number on him. I wonder if they would have gotten this bad had I actually called the cops and did something last night. 

My hands and shoulders dropped as I looked at him. I didn’t even bother with the others around me, I’d take care of them after. 

Or, so I thought… One of Monica’s friends stood up and charged after me. I stumbled back, fumbling to cock the gun before pulling the trigger at him, getting him right in the head. He fell to the ground with a thud, a slab of meat just on the floor. 

“Anyone else?” I looked at the others around me, really feeling my sudden anger and annoyance come through for everyone. The people around me backed away from me. I looked back at Chip, appreciating the way he was looking up at me. Just as I went to my knees to help him, the sound of a shotgun being cocked came from behind me. I froze as the barrel of a gun was pressed right to my head.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sweet Heart?” a woman’s voice asked from behind me. I took a deep breath as I dropped my gun to the ground. I looked back at Chip and noted how the adoration he had in his eyes slowly turned into terror and fear. “Where’s my money, Chip?” the woman asked. There was a certain fakeness in her words that scared me a bit. 

“I… I don’t have it!” Chip shouted as he struggled to stand up. I cringed as Liza pushed the barrel into my head a bit more. I swallowed roughly as I looked at Chip. 

“L-liza? H-h-how did you… How did you find me?” Chip exclaimed as he looked past me and at the woman.

“I told you, Chip, I always know where you are,” her fake sweetness really struck a chord in me, pissing me off more than I was before. “Now… Where’s my money?”

Someone from the sidelines jumped to their feet and instantly charged at Liza. It was terrifying how quick Liza was to turn and shoot the gun at the man. I quickly moved away and grabbed my gun from the ground. I felt a little bad for moving behind Chip, using him as a shield from this new woman.

“You’re so quick to move on, Chippy,” Liza spoke as she looked back at me. I appreciated that Chip actually covered me instead of cowering away like I half expected him to. “First the whore from last night and now her?” 

“I’m not a slut or a whore,” I stared at her. She cocked her head as she looked over at me. Yet, again another one of Monica’s people came after us, only to be stopped by a different person, their arm being sliced off in one swift motion. If you blinked you would have missed it. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the three girls shouted front he couch. Liza turned to face the person behind her before saying something else. 

“What… What do we do, Chip,” I whispered as I tugged gently on his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me before lifting his finger to his lips. I stared at him for a moment, watching as he thought of a plan. The level of chaos in the building was starting to stress me out. I wasn’t expecting two terrifying people to show up at an already terrifying place. 

“Go have fun with that one, Dwayne-y,” Liza pointed towards one of the girls on the couch. The guy looked over at the girl before grabbing her and pushing past Chip and I. I fell against the wall and blacked out for a moment. 

When I came too, Liza was standing in front of Chip, talking to him about something. It was eerily quiet in the trailer now, other than Liza and Chip’s voice. My guess was Liza took everyone out. But, why’d she keep me alive? Chip probably bargained for my life. I’m honestly just a bystander in this whole thing, wasn’t I? 

“You can let him run away… you can hunt him down, and kill him… Or… Or you can discipline him.. Teach him to heel or whatever he’s supposed to do,” Liza cocked her head as she looked at Chip. I took a deep breath, looking at the ground and noticed the gun on the ground right behind Chip. “So, Chip, what option do you want?” her tone was filled with that sickening sweetness, and it made me want to beat the shit out of her. 

“Violet said there’s always another option,” Chip spoke softly as he looked at Liza. I carefully moved and grabbed the gun. 

“Oh, she… She did? Well, I don’t see her here… Because she’s dead, Chip,” Liza scoffed. I took a deep and shaky breath before moving around the chair and aiming the gun right at Liza. “Oh, look who’s got the balls now,” Liza looked past Chip and at me. I stared down at her, feeling nervousness in the form of bile rise up my throat. “Are you gonna shoot me? Baby’s gonna sho-” her statement was finished short by a bullet to her head. I closed my eyes and looked down at the ground. 

“Jesus Christ!” Chip shouted as Liza’s body fell to the ground. I took a deep breath before looking down at him. “She’s dead!” 

“She was going to fucking kill both of us, Chip!” I shouted back, looking at him with wide eyes. Chip looked up at me as he stumbled to his feet. 

“Okay, okay,” Chip looked down at me, placing his hand on my shoulder to steady himself. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “$68,000… My clothes, and then we fucking ditch this fucking place,” he pointed towards the door where the creepy man from before dragged a girl. I swallowed roughly as I looked towards the door.

“Here,” I handed him my gun before nodding towards the door. Chip looked down at me, a slight glare in his eyes before he took a step forward. I followed behind him, staying close to his body. He pushed the door open and immediately fired the gun, killing the guy instantly. 

“I’m never going to sleep again, holy fucking shit,” I muttered as I looked at the horrors in front of me. He fucking ripped the girl a part. 

“Stay here for a minute,” Chip muttered before stepping away from me. He didn’t seem bothered by everything. I was impressed that he was able to step into the room more and move stuff around. One he found what he was looking for he came back beside me.

“Let’s fucking go,” he muttered, holding a shoe box under his arm. I looked at the box as I followed behind him. I could kill him right now, and take that 68grand. I could start a new life on my own… 

“Yeah, let’s go,” I looked down at the ground, “Shouldn’t we clean up the place first? Our fingerprints and DNA is all over the place,” I looked around the trailer and at all the dead bodies. Is it bad this didn’t phase me at all? 

“You’re right. Hold this,” he muttered as he shoved the box into my hands. I looked down at it with wide eyes before looking back at Chip. He had a bottle of straight whiskey in his hand and was splashing it around the room, going into the other rooms before coming back. “You think this will be enough?” he asked, looking down at me with a certain exhaustion in his eyes. I tried to look past all the injuries he had earned, but it was hard when they covered his whole face. 

“Hopefully,” I shoved the box back into his arm before leaving the building. I waited just outside as he lit a lighter and tossed it to the floor, causing the whole building to be engulfed in flames. 

“Where to?” Chip asked as we walked back to my car. I looked over my shoulder at the blazing trailer and shrugged.

“Somewhere away from here. But first, we should get you a first aid kit,” 

{***}{***}{***}

We drove for a long time. A very long time. I think we both wanted to make sure we were away from Monica’s trailer before we rested for the night. Which also meant we had to wait a long time before Chip could get the proper care he needed. It wasn’t fair to either of us that this was the case at the moment. I wasn’t ever expecting this to be what happened to me the other day when I woke up. I was just happy that after the second day of driving, he was actually okay.

“I’ll go get a room, you stay here,” I looked over at Chip. It looked like he was asleep, which I was expecting, so when he lifted his head and looked over at me I was a little confused. 

“No, no let me,” he mumbled as he fought to get his seatbelt undone.

“Chip, you look like you just got out of Fight Club… Let me go get the room,” I placed a hand on his to stop him from moving anymore. He looked up at me with a little bit of terror in his eyes, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” I kept my voice low as I spoke to him. 

“Okay, you’re right,” he mumbled before moving his hand away from the buckle. Chip rested his head against the head rest before closing his eyes lightly. I sighed deeply before sliding out of the car and towards the entrance of the hotel lobby. 

I kept my voice low the entire time as I spoke to the front desk manager. It was hard when I also looked like I just got out of a war and the manager kept looking at me like that was the case. When they finally handed me the room key, I let out the deepest sigh of relief and returned out to the car. 

“We have a room… Two days…” I looked over at Chip as I drove to a parking spot near our room. 

“Two days… Nice, nice,” he murmured and nodded. I looked over at him and watched as he slowly unbuckled. 

“You go into the room, I’ll grab the food and first aid kit,” I handed him the key before we both got out. Chip nodded before leaving and going towards the room. I made sure to be quick as I grabbed the stuff from the back.

“Should I shower?” 

“No, no, let me clean your wounds up first,” I nodded towards the bed. Chip looked over at the bed before going to sit on it. I was relieved when he laid back on the bed like nothing mattered in the world. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

 “Are you going to play nurse with me?” he asked, looking at me with a playful smirk on his lips. I laughed and nodded as I approached the bed. 

“Unfortunately, I think I’m all you got,” I laughed as I sat on the bed beside him. He sat up and moved closer to him. We were both quiet as I pulled out alcohol wipes and gauze. I looked at his face, trying to figure out where to start. Thankfully the swelling in his eyes went down, but I cracked an ice pack to help. 

“This is gonna sting,” I looked at his face as I lifted the wipe to his face. He winced as I began wiping the wounds on his face.

“Are you okay?” I looked up at him as I carefully placed butterfly band-aids and regular band-aids over the wounds. He looked back at me, a certain softness in his eyes. I was happy that he’d probably just need a few band-aids on his face instead of gauze and stitches like I’d thought. We both didn’t want to go to the hospital… 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered as he tried to not move away from my touch. I frowned looking at his face. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he added. I looked down at his hands and nodded. 

“Did you want to go to the hospital and tell them the truth?” I raised an eyebrow as I shifted closer to him with an alcohol pad. He cringed as I pressed it to the open wound on his hand. “Sorry,” I cringed as he flinched.

“You’re right, though… I don't think I could make up a believable lie in the hospital,” he looked at me, watching me clean the injuries.. 

“Was it worth it?” I asked, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Chip shrugged a bit like he wasn’t too sure what I was talking about.

“Was… Was what worth it?” he asked, trying not to furrow his eyebrows. I laughed lightly and shrugged.

“The 68 grand that you risked your life for, Chip,” I laughed as I grabbed a bandage and picked it open, “Is it okay if the band-aid is pink with butterflies?” I held it up to show him the design. He swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, it was worth it,” he whispered, causing me to look back at his face. I furrowed my eyebrows when it became my turn to stare at him. “Because if I didn’t lose the $68 thousand... I probably wouldn’t have met you… And you saved my life,” 

“Oh please, don’t compare me to Violet,” I laughed and shook my head. I felt a little bad for bringing up his dead friend, but I personally felt like he was comparing me to her. Just a little bit. 

“I’m not,” he looked taken aback by my sudden statement. I shrugged, not entirely believing him. He knew that too. I looked at him, noting the cut and bruise across his nose. Who knows how long that was going to take to heal, but I hope it didn’t hurt him too much. “I’m being serious,”

“That makes me feel better,” I smiled as I began cleaning up the first aid kit we had bought when we pulled into a new town, “I should probably let you go your own way, come morning. I don’t want to get in the way of you while you’re trying to flee everything” I laughed as I clicked the first aid kit shut, “I’ll let you have my car,” 

“Please stay,” he whispered, watching as I stood and walked across the room. I almost didn’t hear him. But I was preoccupied with my thoughts, trying to figure out how I’d get home if I had given him my car to leave. I was 2 days away from home… That’d be a long way back. “I probably would die if you didn’t come with me,” he added as I turned to face him.

“I’d be pretty useless if I came with. Is your life always like that, Chip?” I asked, placing my fists on my hips. He stayed quiet. “Because if it’s always like that, running from danger and shooting guns…”

“You’ll go back home, I get it. What happened the other day was-”

“I never said that,” I cut him off, “Yeah, what happened the other day was terrifying, Chip. But, I don’t think I’ve ever had such an eventful day in my entire life. I just don’t think I would be able to do that again. That parts gotta go,”

“Consider it gone,” Chip shook his head, watching as I slowly walked back over towards him. I looked down at him, appreciating the way he looked back up at me. “Forgotten. We can… We can buy a house in… In Iowa. Have kids, have a family. Get as far as we can from that place,” he moved his legs and allowed me to stand between them. 

“Iowa?” I scoffed, wrinkling my nose at the thought of moving to Iowa. “And… You want to have kids? After everything that happened? You want to bring kids into this world?” I sighed deeply as I looked down at him. I left out the part of how we just met 4 days ago. He doesn’t even know me. 

“Yeah, but if you were their mother, I think they’d be pretty safe,” Chip laughed as he reached up to grab my hand. I stared at him, feeling my heart swell in my chest. 

“You don’t even know me, Chip,” I laughed lightly. He furrowed his eyebrows before shrugging. “And you already want to have kids with me?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think it matters. You saved my life,” he pointed out. I bit my lower lip as he brushed his thumb across the back of my hand. 

“Yeah,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I stared at him, “You saved mine too, Chip,” I smiled at him, “I think Liza might have killed me if it wasn’t for you,” I laughed lightly out my nose. And, it was true. She probably would have killed me after she knocked me out...

“Well, good thing Dwayne was easy enough to take care of,” he returned the laughter, “Can’t believe I dated that bitch,” he sighed as he looked up at me. 

“Yeah, I was about to say…” I smiled softly. Chip smiled as he carefully tugged my hand so I would fall forward slightly. 

“Kiss me,” he whispered as I braced myself on his shoulder with one hand. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking down at his lips. The cut on his upper lip had thankfully stopped bleeding. 

“Is that a good idea,” I pulled my hand off his shoulder and gently held his face. He wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. “Chip, I’m serious,” 

“I am too,” he begged as he looked at me, “I could di-”

“You won’t die tomorrow. You’re safe now,” I smiled softly as I looked at him.

“So, what’s stopping you from kissing me,” he asked, pointing out the fact that there was indeed nothing stopping me from kissing him. 

“Why you gotta be like that?” I asked, moving my hand up his face. I carefully brushed the wound on his temple before carding my fingers through his hair. 

“Be like what?” Chip asked as I pushed my hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his head. 

“You’re so… nice. You’re not like other men, the ones who look at women like objects,” I laughed and shook my head, “You wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” 

“You do know I killed, like, bunch of people yesterday,” he asked. I smiled and nodded. He pulled his hand from mine and rested both his hands on my hips. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair…” I sighed deeply and cocked my head, “You won’t regret it, will you?” I asked, my voice hardly a whisper.

“Regret what? Kissing you?” He asked, his thumbs playing with the hem of my shirt, just barely touching the skin of my hip. I nodded lightly. “Why would I regret kissing you?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy regret kissing me,” I whispered as I looked away from him, “The last guy I dated… He dated me as a joke… It wasn’t till after we… Well, we did a little bit more than kissing, did he tell me that it was all a joke,” I whispered before looking down at the ground.  

“Nothing about me asking for a kiss is a joke, I promise,” Chip replied, his voice causing me to look back at him. He lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder. “We don’t even have to do anything… You don’t have to ki-”

“I do… I do want to kiss you, Chip,” I whispered softly, “I’m just scared, that’s all,” I stared down at him.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he smiled softly, running his hand down my arm before grasping my hand. I swallowed roughly before moving to straddle his legs. He took a sharp breath as I adjusted myself on his legs.

“Sorry,” I cringed as I tried to get off his legs. Chip looked at me before resting his hands on my hips, keeping me in place on his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, bringing a hand back to my face. I stared at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips.  

After a moment of just staring at each other, I moved forward, closing the space between. Our lips connected, and it was the softest, gentlest kiss ever. Although my lips were still dry, his lips felt dry, drier than the sand on the beach. The blood that was on his lips dried slightly, but it didn’t bother me at all. 

Chip placed his hand on my lower back, moving me closer to his body. My arms wrapped around his neck, my body willingly moving closer to him as if it couldn’t get enough of him. I could tell that he craved me too, his other hand moving hastily around my body. 

“Is this a good idea?” I murmured against his lips. I was careful as I pressed my forehead to his, feeling a small smile tug on my lips. “You’re like… Seriously…” I stopped myself from saying ‘seriously injured’. 

“I’m okay. I’m fine with it if… If you’re fine with it,” he whispered, his hands going back to the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes and let a deep breath of air out my nose. A small smile grew across my lips as his hand finally slipped up my shirt and up to my bra. “Please tell me your fine with it,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. I swallowed roughly and nodded, our noses brushing together as my head moved.  

“Yeah, yeah it’s… I’m fine with it…” I nodded, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes, “I’m more than fine with it,” I whispered as I looked at him.  

That was when he kissed me again. It was different than before. Because, before it was gentle and soft, like he didn’t want me to melt away. But also it was soft because we both had mild- not so mild injuries, and I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. The differences between this one and that one is, fervent and passionate, it took my breath away.

Chip’s hand on my back fiddled with my bra as he tried to unclasp it. I couldn’t help but laugh as he began to struggle. It was clear he was getting frustrated with the struggle, so when I went to help him, he let out a sigh of relief. 

“Sorry,” he muttered as he fought to pull my shirt off. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, it’s okay,” I whispered before lifting my arms in the air. Chip smiled before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it somewhere behind me. I sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air hit my bare chest. Chip was careful as he pressed his lips back to mine, then on the side of my mouth, before trailing down my neck. It was gentle, and soft, but it was enough for me to notice him sucking soft spots on my skin. My hands went back to his head, carefully pulling at the hair on the back of his head.  

My head tilted to the side the further down my neck he went. A small gasp fell from my mouth as he attached his lips to my breast. My fingers gently pulled his hair, causing him to hum lightly. It was hard not to react to him and his touch. I needed him more than I needed air.

“D-don’t stop,” I whispered, my words wavering with each syllable. It was so hard to concentrate on anything as he placed his lips around my nipple. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to arch my back into him more. 

Chip stood up, causing me to latch on to him so I wouldn’t fall, before turning around to put me on the bed. I looked up at him, my breathing picking up slightly as he stared down at me. His lower lip was pulled between his teeth as he looked at me.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I whispered, lifting a hand to his face. He could hear the worry in my words as I spoke, letting his lower lip fall from his mouth. “Your lip is bleeding.” I left out that it was only bleeding a little bit, but it was enough to notice the red. 

“It’s fine,” he whispered, bringing his hand to rest on my cheek. His thumb brushed against my lower lip. My body shivered slightly before I opened my mouth slightly. He smirked before slipping his thumb between my lips. I swirled my tongue around his thumb as I stared at him. 

“Good girl,” Chip hummed, resting his other hand on the mattress by my head. I swallowed roughly before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to my face. He moved his thumb from my mouth and looked down at me.

“Please don’t make me ask more than once,” I whispered, releasing my hand from his shirt to lift it to his face. He flinched away slightly as my hand barely touched his face. I could feel my face soften as I looked at him. “I won’t hurt you, Chip. You’re safe now,” I whispered as I moved my hand from his face.

“I know, I know,” he shook his head before lowering his face to mine, lightly pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, wrapping my arms around his neck again. “You won’t have to ask more than once,” he murmured against my lips. He looked down at me before pressing his lips to mine again, slowly kissing down my neck and chest. 

Although he was quick to move down my chest, he was slow once he got to my hips. 

“Hold on,” he stepped away from me, rushing to the bathroom real quick. I sat up, resting back on my hands, as I waited for him to come back. 

“What… What are you doing, Chip?” I asked, my patience starting to wear thin as the seconds ticked by. I swallowed roughly as he stepped back out of the bathroom.

“Cleaning my face a little bit more,” he looked at me with a small smile on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows as he came back to stand between my legs. 

“I-I’m confused,” I looked up at him. Although, I really shouldn’t be confused. I’m the one who said ‘Please don’t make me ask more than once.’ and he obviously wanted it as badly as I did.

“You know,” he smiled as he lifted my hips a little bit before pulling my pants off my body. I suddenly couldn’t control my breathing anymore, and I was left trying to control myself. “Wouldn’t want to get blood everywhere,” he looked up at me as he dropped my pants to the ground.  

I stared at him watching as he lowered to his knees between my legs. He was gentle as pressed his lips to the soft skin on my inner thigh. I took a deep breath, trying so hard to regulate my breathing. My elbows and arms gave out, causing me to lie back hard on the bed. 

“So beautiful,” Chip whispered before blowing softly at my core. I gasped and pressed my head into the bed beneath me. My hands and fingers got knotted up in his hair again, slowly pulling his head closer to my body. 

Chip laughed at me before peppering butterfly kisses over my pussy. I gasped, tugging lightly on his hair. He looked up at me before grasping both of my hands and holding them down on the bed. 

“Ch-chip, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I whimpered pulling at his hands. He hummed before licking a stripe right up my cunt. I swear, I couldn’t even breathe. He squeezed my hands as he kept licking at me. After a moment, his lips attached around my clit, sucking softly at the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” I cried out as he pulled a hand from one of mine. I didn’t even notice that he pushed a finger into me. My free hand went over my mouth as a moan fell from me. Chip obviously enjoyed that sudden reaction, causing him to moan too. The vibrations from him caused me to moan again. 

“ ‘m so close. Please, Chip, so close,” I moved my hand to his hair and pulled on it a lot harder than before. It was like I couldn’t breathe, the wind being knocked from my lungs like I was punched in the gut. “Fuck, Chip,” I moaned, my hips jerking at him. He pulled his hand from mine and placed it firmly on my stomach, holding me down. 

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” he murmured against my body. I cried out when he pressed his lips back on me. 

My mind went fuzzy and my vision turned white. I could feel my toes curling against the rough, scratchy comforter beneath me. My hands gripped his hair and the blanket so tightly I was sure my knuckles would blanch. And the only thing I could say was his name as I came.

My chest heaved as I tried to breathe. When I opened my eyes, Chip was back over me. He smiled, clearly enjoying what had just happened. 

“That was… That was good,” I laughed lightly. Chip returned the laughter before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed following after him as he pulled away from me. 

“That was, like, barely the pregame,” Chip laughed as he looked down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and smiled softly. “If at all the pregame,”

“Well are you going to get started on the actual game or just leave me alone?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I stared at him. Chip laughed again before standing up right to rid himself of his jeans. I quickly moved so I was lying up by the pillows. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked once he was back over me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m positive. If I wasn’t… I wouldn’t have let you eat me out the way you did,” I laughed as I brought my hands to his face, “I appreciate you cleaning your face a bit before you did that though. I don’t really want the staph infection or STD,” I laughed harder than I should have. But that in turn caused Chip to glare at me.

“Well, now I don’t think I want to have sex with you,” he looked away from me before sitting up right. I stopped laughing before sitting up to look at him. 

“C’mon, Chip, I was just joking.” I moved so I was closer to him, “I’d love to get a STD from you,” I bit back my laughter as I looked at him. He glared at me again. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, looking down at the bed. I smiled before lifting a hand to his face.

“You’re the one who wants to fuck the girl you just met 4 days ago,” I pointed out as I moved to straddle his waist. He looked at me as I sat on him. “But, to be fair, I also want to have sex with the guy I met 4 days ago so it’d be a little hypocritical of me to judge you,” I shrugged. I tried really hard not to look at his cock, but it was right there… It was obvious that he was painfully hard. “Use me, Chip,” I swallowed roughly as I looked up at his face. His eyes were scanning my face as his hands were resting on my hips. I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, and I was more than happy to let that happen.

What he did next surprised me. He lifted my hips up so I was hovering over him, before slamming me on his cock. A shout came from my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my face into his shoulder as I tried to breathe properly after the sudden intrusion. 

“Fuck,” I panted before looking up at him after a moment. My muscles clenched around him as I slowly got used to his size. Chip pressed his lips to mine before carefully thrusting up into me. My hips slowly moved, meeting him at the perfect spots. His lips hardly left mine, and when they did it was only for a few moments.

“Gonna fill you up,” Chip mumbled as he pressed his lips to my neck, “Gonna put a baby in you,”

“Please! Don’t stop, fuck,” I cried, rolling my hips against his. My mouth opened around his shoulder, my teeth carefully sinking into his skin. “God,” I whined looking back up at him, “Do it, please, do it,” 

“Yeah? You like that?” Chip groaned as he brought a hand to my chest. I let out a shaky breath and nodded as he massaged my breast. “Being filled with my cum, carrying my child,” he looked up at me. I pressed my lips together and nodded, feeling myself get closer to the edge. 

“Fuck, Chip, please,” I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer to my face. I pressed my lips to his as he pulled me closer to his body, my chest pressing against his. 

My breathing grew raged as he picked up his pace. His hand dropped to where our bodies met, his finger encircling around my clit. I was pushed right to the edge, calling out his name as he called out mine. His hips faltered slightly as he filled me with his essence. 

My head dropped to his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his chest. It took a while for either of us to move, the intensity of the moment catching up with us. Although, the last few days in general were catching up with me. 

“I gotta clean you up,” Chip finally whispered after a moment. I swallowed roughly before I struggled to get off his lap. 

“You really do want to have kids with me,” I laughed as we finally broke a part, “I mean, yeah I want kids too. But not for a while,” 

“I told you, we gotta get to Iowa first,” Chip looked over at me as he got off the bed. When he noticed that I was a little nervous about that, he came over to my side, “We don’t have to go to Iowa,”

“No, no, I know… It’s just… The thought of leaving… And going with you. The other day was terrifying, with everything th-What if I just left?” 

“I know you're nervous. You have every right to be nervous. If we leave, we can get as far from that place as possible. We can find a safe place and be safe… Together,” he knelt on the ground beside me. I looked down at him and nodded, “Besides, you had the most boring life in that stupid motel,”

“True, true,” I laughed and shook my head, “You’re not going to, like, murder me… Are you?” I looked at him as I carefully grasped his hand.

“No! I wouldn’t do that! After the shit I just said to you with my cock in you? You think I’d kill you?” Chip nearly fell back on the ground, causing me to laugh again. I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, I… I guess if the worst thing you’ll do to me is get me pregnant… Then I think I’m safe.” I looked at him with a small smile, “And that’s not even bad,” I shrugged as I looked at the bed in front of me.

“I won’t murder you if you won’t murder me,” he spoke, lifting his hand and showing me his pinkie. I looked back at him and nodded.

“Promise,” I whispered before interlocking my pinkie with his. 

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[rextasywrites]

i heard someone's got their requests open...... SO i dont really have much other than my thirst for smut and the total conviction that leon is a boobs man (while chris is an ass man), you can't change my mind. and its not even about size, i just know that man loves him some 🍒, big or small. anyways, im also a sucker for some angst so what about a little thing where leon and the reader broke up for whatever reason but deep down they miss each other a lot and wish they have not given up so easily, and then they sleep together... for like the first time since the break up and leon is all up on her and her 🍒 that he missee so much. just smut w a little plot lmao, thank you if you consider!! :)

This has been my favourite request so far so I had to get to it right away! i hope you enjoy it anon! <3

Warnings: smut and some angst at first

It’s been a month since Leon left. After one of the worst missions he ever had to face, he decided it was enough. If he had to face zombies and bio weapons and fuck knows what else, he’d do it alone and not risk her life too. Breaking up was the wisest decision, keeping her save. As a Kennedy, she would always have a target on her back, ready to be shot at. And if another person he loves dies because of him...Leon didn’t know if he would be able to overcome the grief and sadness.

It was two in the morning when you heard someone banging against your door. Out of reflex, you grabbed the gun he had left at your apartment months ago, ‘just in case’. Now was one of those times you thought. With an unlocked gun and in your nightgown you headed towards the door. The mysterious visitor was still banging against it, saying your name over and over again. “(Y/N), (Y/N), open up!”, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Leon. And he sounded drunk.

You placed the gun away and unlocked the door. This caught Leon by surprise and he stumbled forwards, thanks to your great reflexes you caught him before his pretty face could kiss the hardwood floor. “Leon, the fuck you doing here?”, you asked as you helped him back on his feet. Together you headed to the living room where you sat him down on the couch, getting him a glass of water.

“I miss you baby!”, Leon hip cupped during the sentence, giving you his best puppy eyes. Fuck, not the puppy eyes…

“Leon, we broke up a month ago.”, you replied as you placed the cup of ice cold water in his hands. It still hurt, and seeing him in a state like this confirmed your belief that he wasn’t taking it easily.

Leon shrugged and took a few sips from the water, pulling a face. “That’s not wodka…”, he muttered as he placed the glass down. “Anyway. I missed you and your smell and your soft hair and your boobs and…”

You sighed and cupped his cheeks, “Leon, stop it. We broke up for a reason…”

“And that reason is stupid as fuck. I miss you.”, he confessed like the drunken mess that he is, still using his puppy eyes like you. Leon tilted his head, sticking his bottom lip out, “I miss waking up to you next to me, when you drool on your pillow and your hair is all messy an-”

You cut him off. Enough is enough. You had longed for him and his touch ever since he walked out of the door of your apartment, crying just like you did. Ever since you wanted him for yourself again, your Leon. You cut him off with a soft kiss, tasting the various liquors he had dumped into his body into the hours prior to your meeting.

“Leon…”, you whispered against his lips, the stubble of his beard scratching against your cheeks as he rubbed against you. All the feelings pent up were crashing down on you, and you both couldn’t hold back the desire burning deep inside of your bodies.

“Bedroom. Now.”, Leon said as he stood up, pulling you with him. Despite his stumbling, the muscle memory told him where your bedroom was, and in no time you two were in the bed you had shared so many times. Leon pulled you into his lap, instantly burying his face between your breasts. As a breathy moan escaped your throat, Leon tugged on your nightgown. “Off.”

To his enjoyment, your nightgown found its way to your bedroom floor, and to his delight, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Damn, how I missed them”, Leon muttered as his eyes were fixed on your breasts, taking in their shape, form, even the colour of your nipples. His calloused fingers flicked your nipples, drawing a moan from your lips. Ever since he had found out they were your weakness...Nothing had stopped him from spending literal hours between them, drawing one orgasm after the other from your body.

“You sound so fucking sweet like that...missed your cute moans, babe.”, Leon growled out as he placed one hand on your hips, guiding you to grind against him. As if it was in your blood, you moved your hips against his, feeling his rather obvious bulge against your panties. “Good girl.”, Leon flicked his tongue over your nipples, one time each, just enough to make you wish for more. Your hand dug into his shoulders, a silent beg for touch and satisfaction.

The moment Leon wrapped his lips around your nipple felt as if you were floating on cloud 7. The familiar feeling of his teeth gently biting into your soft flesh, leaving marks behind to show whose girl you are. How his beard scraped ever so slightly against your skin, tiny red traces of your connection for days to admire. He sucked and licked as if his life depended on it.

Because you were so busy with the pleasure Leon brought upon you with his mouth, you didn’t realize that he had tugged your panties to the side, only when his fingers brushed against your clit was when you gasped. Leon pulled away from your tits, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. What a sight, what a view. “Do you want this?”

“Of fucking course.”, you breathed out, and before Leon could suck on your other breast, you pulled him into another kiss, breathlessly but full of need and lust. While you kissed Leon, his fingers collected enough of your sheer endless wetness and plunged them inside of you. The stretch and calloused feeling made you feel filled up, a feeling you had longed for since Leon had last touched you. “Leon, please…”, you moaned out as he stroked over your g-spot, feeling every little bit of your inside, of the place that made you feel so good.

“Please what? Say it, little girl.”

“I want you Leon. Fuck, I need you. Now.”, and that was all Leon needed. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty and whining. You wiggled your hips while he pulled down his own jeans and took off his shirt, giving you enough time to admire the beautiful man in front of you.

Leon pulled you closer once he was undressed, leaning against the wall by the bed, guiding your hips closer to his. God, he was so beautiful with his uncut cock, standing at attention just because of you. “I missed this.”, you confessed and to your surprise, Leon agreed with you before he slowly guided himself inside of you. Fuck, how you deeply you missed his. It felt as if you two were made for each other. You needed a hot second to adjust to his size, he wasn’t so big that it would hurt, but...an impressive cock was hidden in his pants.

“Fuck, little girl, you feel so good.”, Leon groaned as he started to move his hips along with your, moving as one. He rested his head on your shoulder, one arm around your waist, the other one busy with rubbing your clit. His touch alone made you see stars, and since you hadn’t masturbated since he left, your orgasm was approaching fast.

The first waves of your orgasm caught Leon by surprise, making him look up to you. “Already?”, he asked, his lips parted and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. You nodded as another wave washed over you, and Leon felt his cock twitching inside of you. So tight, so fucking good…

“Fuck, baby”, Leon moaned against your skin, pulling you into another open mouthed kiss. The taste of alcohol was fading off, replaced with his unique taste. And fuck, it was an addicting taste. Your tongues danced together as every moan was swallowed by the other party.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum. His thick fingers, his cock made for your pussy...together you reached your peaks, panting and moaning as the orgasms came over you. As you contracted around him, Leon filled you up to the brim, the sweetest feeling of them all with your lovers cum inside of you. Your neighbours probably heard your loud moans but at this moment, you couldn’t care less. 

As Leon went soft, his cock slipped out of you, his cum dripping out. But in this very moment you felt more connected to Leon than you had ever been, and judging by his soft smile, he felt the same.

“Come on little one, lets catch some sleep?”, Leon suggested. It wasn’t even in question that he would leave. Fuck no, this bed had been his bed for so long and now came his chance to sleep in it again. You nodded and got off his lap. After quickly drying yourself up, you joined Leon under the covers, snuggling against his chest.

With a soft yawn you dozed off in your lovers arms, but you were sure you heard Leon say, “I love you and will do so forever.”

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Page of Swords

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | three

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You attempt a new skill. Mando attempts to teach you.

Word count: 4.7k~

Rating: Mature

Warnings/tags: gun usage/mentioning throughout, mature language, pining, more dirty thots-ish, angst because why not, does this count as fluff? sure, gun kink if you squint w/o your glasses

Notes: As the reader (you/us) begins to become more familiar with Mando, his perspective starts bleeding in to the narrative, without a blocked off POV. Also, the reader’s past will start weaving (incoherently?) into the story as well. The large italicized chunks denote past tense interactions (which is probably obvious but who knows any more). Cheers x (gif credit: @djarinsgf)

A shot rings out.

Birds explode from the canopy with offended squawks, squalling in a winged flurry to scatter every which way until they recede again into the green, disappearing back into their hiding places. You groan. You thought you’d be better at this.

It’s not that you thought you were some sort of savant, you just didn’t expect to be this bad. Honestly, it’s embarrassing—you’re embarrassingly terrible— like statistically, you should have hit something by now, but you just keep missing—a crowded tree line in front of you, and not a scratch in sight—nary a singed branch nor a bullet holed trunk. It’s almost impressive how poor of a shot you are—and you would be, if you weren’t so damn exasperated with the whole affair. With a frustrated grunt, you throw your hands up, brandishing the weapon haphazardly.

“Careful,” Mando warns slyly, “you could hurt someone with that thing.”

“Yeah, well at least I’d hit something,” you grumble.

The kid had been fussy - almost unbearably so - in the weeks that followed your short stint on Bajic, and your party was itching for some time off the Razor Crest. After his third tantrum in a day, Mando decided to land on some unknown planet you couldn’t even spell to stretch your legs and take a breather.

You had almost sobbed when you saw him drag his menagerie of weaponry over. You knew what this meant, you knew what came next—his weekly, routine buff.

You think he’s doing it on purpose.

Ever since the first time, when you damn near had a conniption ogling him, you swear it’s like he’s doing it just to mess with you. He isn’t—of course he isn’t, rationally you knew that, in fact there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. He’s a Mandalorian—weapons are apart of his religion for kriff’s sake—but Maker does it seem intentional. Premeditated. It’s like you can feel the blistering ray of his gaze on you as he takes his time, roving a leathered hand over the bulge of the shaft—greasing it, stripping it, part by metal part…

It’s all in your head, you told yourself. It’s all in your fucking head and you need to get a grip.

Immediately you sprang into action, busying yourself with anything you could get your stupid, little hands on—in this case, being one of his many blasters.

“I wanna give it a go,” you said.

He let you, surprisingly. He hesitated, at first, his helmet tipping at a disbelieving angle. But he gave in—it took less effort on your part than you’d figured—and Mando conceded. He obliged.

How hard could it be? You thought.

Famous last words.

He’s parked there, settled on a throne of crates pushed flush to the Crest, slouched against the outer hull of the ship as he cleans, from the looks of it, every item in his arsenal—a front row seat to your pathetic endeavor and you’re failing—epically, ridiculously—shot after errant shot.

You line yourself up, scrunching your face in concentration as you bare the blaster in your hands. Maybe this time…

You fire off a round and an animal scampers scared in the thicket. Nothing. Another sublime miss.

You hear a noise come from Mando’s direction, something subtle like a blip of static through his helmet - Maker, he’s laughing at you - and you pivot around to him.

“What,” you ask, although it's less of a question and more of a griping pout. He replies with silence, that fickle language he's mastered to perfection all on his own, his focus pitched down to the bristled rod he’s driving in and out of his rifle, scouring out the residue from the inner barrel. “Ugh, what Mando?” you say, just shy of a whine, one hand slotted on your hip, the other dangling by your side, the pistol foreign and cumbersome in your grasp.

“Didn’t say anything,” he replies with a half shrug, his pauldrons shifting so imperceptibly you almost miss it. You pause, hurling him a look that misses him completely before you heave a frustrated sound.

“Fine, you show me how it’s done then.”

The T of his visor finds you. Its cold and unknowable as he rolls his helmet, tilting it up to you, hands slowing their ministrations to a rest. He’s wears a glare, carved into the steel hollow of the plates—unamused and smoldering—and with it, you feel small; microscopic and withering under his pointed gaze— suddenly too exposed in the open patch of jungled wilderness they’ve landed in and your mouth tweaks, teeth grazing the plush there. You assume he won’t do it. There’s no way he’ll rise to such obvious of a challenge, but he’s sighing—you can see it in the slant of his armor—and marching towards you before you can take it back, drawing closer and closer until Mando’s slated in front of you, expectant and postured and you forget— like the skip of a record, you forget why he’s even there— not a foot before you— and your eyes dance across his helm, flickering back and forth.

“May I?” he nods down to the pistol in your hand and you start - oh, shit - and offer it to him clumsily.

Mando squares off against the untamed green. The air lays hot and sticky around them. There is no trace of wind, no glimmer of breeze, and his cape hangs mute down his back. You’d never seen him fire his weapon. He surrounded himself with them, sure, always had at least two strapped to him at all times— probably even slept with one, you reckon— but you’ve never seen him use one.

With one solid movement, he cranes his arm, taking aim.

Now, you aren’t one to condone violence, but he just looks right doing it; an extension of himself with how natural it is, how innate— an added appendage, born unto him. The pistol looks good in his fist, like it couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else, the orange tips of his glove curling around the hilt, looping over that sensitive release.

He has practiced hands. Methodical. Sturdy. It’s sensual, to watch him like this. Pornographic even— sacrilege in a way. A part of you wants to look away and turn your gaze, grant him privacy as he handles the blaster— delicately, confidently. It’s intimate.

The pistol croons in his palm. She bends, supple and lilting. He knows just where to touch, where to stroke— she does anything he tells her. She melts for him.

Warmth pools in your mouth. Mando pulls the trigger.

He lands an impressive shot onto an impossibly narrow tree trunk nestled further in, and your features contort with amazement. Maybe you want to see it again—like a nosy neighbor peeping in through drawn curtains. Maybe you’re being reckless and smarmy, and maybe you know it. A Mandalorian’s got a gun in his hand and you’re prodding him - brilliant strategy, top marks - but your adrenaline is pumping something fierce and you feel yourself grow bold with each seize of your heart.

“Lucky shot,” you huff.

He pans to you, lolling his head, visor locked onto your face. Without flinching, without gracing you with a remark, he raises his arm and fires— doesn’t even have to kriffing look. The scorch mark sizzles - haughtily, jeering - no more than a few inches away from the first. You nearly choke on the arrogance of it— the lazy, smug performance— like he can’t be bothered with any of it, as if your taunts are all so beneath him.

You have to bite down on your lip to stop it from snaking into a wicked grin.

Mando offers the pistol back to you, flipping it grip-side up in a fancy flourish before striding - strutting - back to his post. You shake your head, a determined set to your jaw and you retake your aim, squinting in the hazy afternoon light, pulling the trigger— and nothing happens.

Again, click. Nothing, click after fruitless click. You make a face, pinching—

“Safety’s on.”

You flush, thanking the Maker that your back is towards him, and switch it down with your thumb. “Right,” you mumble sheepishly, wetting your lip. You align your sights, bracing yourself for the impact—

“It’s your stance.”

Three words.

Three words, the only solace Mando provides before devoutly returning to his work.

You wait for him to elaborate, to edify you— for any manner of sage advice— but the explanation never comes; he leaves you like this, marooned with three fucking words and you have to screw your eyes shut. This man is baffling— maddeningly unhelpful— infuriatingly sparse. It makes you want to howl and rip your hair out— and you whip around violently.

“What about my st-”

Your question comes scampering to a halt, tail between your legs, throat gone dry. Mando has planted himself directly behind you— standing so close you can see your reflection in his beskar, see the blush blurring your cheek under the alien sun.

“What uh, what about my stance?” you ask, mousier now, swallowed up by the sheer size of him so near to you.

“It’s not wide enough.”

You glance down at your feet before looking back up to him. “What do you mean?”

“Turn around,” he says.

You quirk your brow at him before he repeats himself. “Turn around and spread your legs. Hips distance apart.”

Fuck, he has no business sounding like that— like bourbon and smoke and iron tang—but you do as he says. You’re shakier than you want to be— you wish you could be cool and collected but you’re not. You’re anything but, and you’re nervous. Maker, Mando makes you nervous— it’s not just the weapon in your hand, it’s him— setting you off and giving you butterflies like you’re some sort of forlorn schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman, and this is what he’s rendered you to— jittery, molten mush. It’s embarrassing. Fucking mortifying.

You guess it’s the day for it.

He doesn’t touch you, but it hardly matters; you can sense him there all the same, a shadow in your peripheral. He leaves a thick breath of space between your bodies and with your back towards him, you can feel the waves of heat radiate off the bounty hunter, pulsing out out out from him and it’s almost intolerable— as if you’ve flown too close to the sun, waxed wings melting in pearled streaks down your spine.

You scuttle your feet open, parting just outside your hips.

“Arms up,” he says, and you hoist them into position. You’re sure you look as awkward as you feel, if not more, all the angles of your body feeling perfectly wrong and misplaced. “Relax your elbows,” he adds, and you do— you try to, at least.

“Too much. Somewhere in between.”

You try again, strengthening through your triceps and down your forearms.

“Better,” Mando gives. You think you feel him nodding approvingly behind you. “The important-”

Kriff, you panic.

You spin towards him, dropping your form and cutting him off with a humbled, worried look, throwing up barricades and hurdles— landmines for him to dodge. Or step on.

“Wait hey Mando, you don’t- I don’t want to take up your time,” you begin.

“You aren’t.”

“I’m serious, I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“You’re not.”

You blink.

“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.”

He speaks so plainly, unvarnished and matte— unflinchingly earnest in a way that gives you pause. It leaves no wiggle room for interpretation and you sigh, defeated, shoulders slumping as you haul yourself back around.

“Arms up,” he reiterates, but there’s no malice there; he sounds kind— untroubled. It always surprises you how mild he can be— Mando should be anything but, he’d have every reason to, but he’s calm. Patient. You wonder if he even realizes it, if he even recognizes the tenor of his own voice— how gentle it can be— under the helmet. Despite it.

“Think of your posture as firm, without tensing,” Mando explains. “Soften your knees, don’t lock them— same goes for your arms— don’t stiffen against the recoil, let your body absorb it.”

You mirror what he coaches, shooting him a curious, hopeful look over your shoulder.

“There. Good,” he says. “Now, which is your dominant eye?”

Your arms fall down to your sides. “My what?”

“Dominant eye.”

You give him a baffled look like he’s speaking another language - in all fairness, he is - and Mando emits another puff of air through his modulator, chortling.

“Eye dominance. We’re all either right handed or left handed. Eyes work the same— right eyed or left eyed. We favor one or the other— you’ll focus that one to aim.”

Oh, huh.

You still appreciatively, basking in the novelty of the information. “Really? I didn’t know that. That’s- that’s actually pretty interesting,” you muse. “Brains and brawn, huh?” You flash a cheeky grin back at him.

Mando grunts, nondescript and unaffected and robotic but he swears he can feel pink creep over his clavicle, tainting the tan of his skin concealed there.

He fits his gloved hand over yours, if only for a second, and you do your best to ignore the rough patch of his leather grazing against the thin flesh there. You try to ignore the chill that sweeps across the curve of your waist, how the peach fuzz prickles up, electrified and magnetized, as he unfurls your fingers from the gun, letting it slip from your grasp. He tucks it under his arm, keeping it pinned there with his bicep.

“Hold your hands out like this.” Mando shows you, creating an oval with his fingers— like a view finder or a scope. You mimic him, feeling like every bit of an idiot, but you don’t contradict him— you do as he does. “Now, set your focus out on a fixed point through your hands,” he instructs and you do, setting your sights on a gnarled tree branch.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it,” you respond.

“Now alternate closing each eye. The image should stay in the frame with one, and then shift out of it with the other.”

You frown, concentrating, and close the right before blinking over to the left— kriff, he’s right.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “My left. It’s my left eye.”

“You sure?”

You check again, squinting through either eye, the tree bouncing in and out of the frame of your fingers. “Mhm. Yeah, my left eye keeps it centered.”

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Left eyed but right handed. Interesting,” Mando murmurs.

You glance up to him, dropping your hands. “Why is that interesting?”

“Not common. The brain’s typically wired the same way all the way down— one side of the body will be dominant. It’s not usually split.”

“You telling me my brain doesn’t work properly, Mando?” you quip dryly.

“You said it, not me.”

He holds the blaster out to you and you swipe it from him with a huffed snort, returning towards the tree line and stars your face hurts. Your face hurts and it’s burning with this asinine smile that’s digging mercilessly into your cheeks. It makes you want to massage your jaw, get the damn thing to relax. Honestly, it makes you want to give yourself a slap.

“Make sure to cross your center with it. Line it up towards the left.”

“Maker, do you think about all this every time you shoot?” you ask, mystified, as you fix your aim.

“Muscle memory takes over eventually. You’ll get there with enough practice.” Mando replies gruffly and you guffaw, loud and wonderfully ugly. You seriously doubt it.

After a series of very near misses— you are getting closer, you’ll give yourself that— your arms grow tired; the joints and muscles protest as you extend them out from your body, taut and tense— the gun dead weight in your wobbly hands.

Your shoulder smarts where you injured the tendon in the explosion. You roll it out, earning snaps and pops as it notches over the bone there. They told you you were lucky. They congratulated you - it’s not a complete tear! - and it’s on the mend well enough, but it’s weak. It doesn’t matter the weight of the object.

The longer you hold anything, the heavier it feels.

You suppose you could throw in the towel at any point, but the fact of the matter— as terrible and true as it may be— is you want to impress him. That awful, nagging feeling— you want to impress the Mandalorian. You want him proud of you— you want to be nice and shiny for him to admire, like one of the guns he polishes until it’s sparkling, until he can mount it on display and show it off. It’s absolutely nauseating— but you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to, and you don’t. You don’t want to.

He isn’t blind to it. He sees the exertion, the tax— how beads of sweat congress around your temples, dampening the base of your scalp, butterfly kissing your skin with a sheen. A trail of wet salt, one lone pilgrim, ventures down the back of your neck, wandering lower and lower, past the hem of your shirt, disappearing into the soft valley of your spine where Mando can’t follow. His throat bobs rough against his cowl.

Transferring the pistol into one hand, you shake out the other, flexing through it and relaxing your grip.

“Wait,” he says and you cock your head back at him. Mando’s retreating to his pile of guns, rifling through the metal anthill before selecting something sleek and chrome. “Here,” you exchange pistols, giving him back the bulkier of the two. Immediately you feel the relief of this new one— it’s lighter and smaller, slighter in your grasp, too— and you turn it over in your hands, noting the way the nozzlelike barrel glitters in the sun.

You’d almost consider it pretty if it weren’t a literal killing machine.

“That’s a CDEF model. Lightweight, reliable, Dedlanite casing, standard issue for CorSec officers.”

You nod along, as if you have any clue what he’s talking about— you don’t. You really, truly don’t.

“Should be easier.”

“Mm,” you hum out in ignorant agreement, slotting your arms back up into position.

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” You rest it against the slide of the barrel, hovering nearby.

Mando shifts closer towards you, the grass grinding under his feet as he takes a half step in to your backside.

“Breathe. Don’t hold it in. Let me hear it.”

Fuck, this feels like a sin; this small gap of distance he’s erected between you as tense, as strained and feverish, as whispered confessions in the dark. Like sneaking back into your parent’s house late at night— the morning moon peering down at you with a heavy lidded gaze— knowing, knowing, keeping your secrets to herself, pressing them to her chest, winking sleepily.

It would be so much easier, so much simpler, if he just put his hands on you. Placed your body where he knows it should be, force you into the shapes and positions he’s so intimate with himself, but he doesn’t. He draws it out. He respects your space and autonomy and it makes it worse. Your imagination fills the void separating you two, and it’s running wild and rampant and depraved and—

“Focus,” he utters, his voice no louder than a purr. You’ve never heard something so mechanical make a sound so deliriously smooth, and you have to suppress a nervous scoff. Focus, he says, as if he isn’t suffocating you with how close he’s standing— as if you aren’t enjoying it— as if you aren’t vibrating down to your very bones at the proximity of the bounty hunter—so close, you bet he can hear them, rattling and slapping against each other deep beneath your skin.

“Remember what I said about your posture,” he suggests quiet-like and murmured, without a trace of condescension there—a harmless reminder. You make the adjustment, fixing your shoulders down your back, and release the stress in your arms.

“Firm without tensing,” you respond under your breath—more for your sake than his— striking it from your mental checklist.

“‘Atta girl.”

No.

No no no, Maker, you feel it. You can fucking feel it—how something low and resonant spasms beyond your belly, the clench of your empty cunt at the encouragement—the heady praise of it all.

Atta girl.

He said it softly - rudely husky - just above a whisper, something tailored specifically for you—almost like it slipped from his lips and he didn’t even notice its passing. It meandered out of him, so easy—too easy. It practically sauntered.

You’re trembling— stars, you hope Mando doesn’t see it. It’s humid and muggy and yet you’re shaking as if it’s freezing, as if you’ve got icicled snot dripping from your nose, and your nerves go haywire, fraying in every direction as you sip in a whistled breath.

You can do this. You can do this. Focus.

“Take the shot,” he orders.

Focus.

Pressing into the slope of the trigger, you fire.

You gasp excitedly— a surprised, whooping laugh tearing through you and you whip around, giddy and beaming - bright, beautiful - a lock of hair sticking to your lip. It’s the youngest, the freest, Mando’s ever seen you; maybe the happiest, too, and his stomach twists at the sight, a tourniquet cinching around him, winding and coiling until he’s convinced it’ll burst. His fingers twitch, every instinct begging him— demanding him— to reach out and return the stray strand behind your ear alongside the others but you beat him to it. Deftly, you flit it away yourself instead, and he’s relieved.

Devastated, too. Gutted.

“Did you see that?” you ask, gleeful as a child.

He pries himself off you, dragging his gaze over your shoulder to where you struck the trunk, a coaled mark charred there into the bark, before returning his attention back to you. You meet his eyes, despite the blackness of his helm— you hold them, for a breathless, ageless moment, you hold him there.

“Not bad.”

He can’t muffle the jolt of his heart as it rumbles through his chest, breaking his mouth wide open into an aching smirk. He doesn’t know if you hear it. He fears you might.

He prays you do.

///

“Cooling vents,”

Metal scrapes against the table as you place the delicate bits down, deconstructing the blaster. The Mandalorian nods, silent as a specter.

“Gas refill valve,”

Another clunk.

“Actuating blaster…” You turn over a particularly knobby bulb before peeking up at Mando through your lashes, a wry grin tugging rosy and coy at your lips. “… thing-”

“Module,” Din corrects.

“Module, right, that’s what I said.”

He sits across the galley from you, arms folded over his chest as he eases back against the hull of the ship, overseeing as you take apart the blaster, the slender little thing he gave to you - he rarely uses it anyways - as you name the pieces and parts just like he’s taught you.

“Keep it,” he told you.

You resisted. You fought it, laughed it off incredulously— stubborn to the end— argued you wouldn’t even have a need for it.

“What am I gonna do with a gun, Mando?” you balked, and Maker he’d hoped you’d never have to use it, would never have to see a firefight in your damn life let alone be in the middle of one, but he wants you to have it— have a part of him, strapped to your hip— the closest he’ll get.

He’s selfish. Din is a greedy, selfish man. He wants to see himself on you, wants you to carry him around like a souvenir from something unforgettable— something irreplaceable— a memory like warm bathwater you dip into long after it passes, and he’ll take whatever he can get— just like you, hungry for anything you’re gracious enough to feed him. And fuck, if he doesn’t hate it— doesn’t want to bury that feeling, cold and lifeless, six feet under the earth. No ceremony. No elegies. Dead and gone, returning to the dust from whence it came, crawling back into the ribcage it sprung from.

Din said your name. Firm— gentle, too.

“Keep it.”

They’ve been at this ever since you managed to hit the target that first time. Hours have passed, dawdling by on the fat little legs of a toddler, plodding and slow. The sun had set, and winged bugs the length of your palm had taken up residency in the dark rainforest, making themselves known with a haunting tune, screeching and singing into the lush wood. After the child had tried making a pass at one, no doubt in the mood for a quick snack - isn’t he always - you had agreed to retire back inside the Crest.

You were so excited, your whole face lit up— like fireworks he remembered once, through the eyes of a boy in the summered night— and you wanted more; like a sponge, sopping up all you could, sucking Din in and ringing him out for it and fuck, he couldn’t say no.

He can’t say no to you.

You start prattling out questions about everything and nothing - what blaster do you prefer, do you have a favorite rifle, what’s the difference between plasma and gas charges, you have a flamethrower on your wrist? - and before long you get him lecturing, going on about weapon safety and trigger discipline and slide bites and ammunition rounds and gun brands and serial numbers and Din knows this isn’t you. You’re a borderline pacifist for kriff’s sake— he’s almost certain that if push came to shove, you’d rather lay down your life than take one. You’re no gunslinger, and you don’t hold any aspirations to become one.

But here you are, fist tucked under your chin and leaning in to him, hanging off his every word.

You have no personal interest in weapons. Frankly you’d be pleased if you never held a gun again in your life. No, and whether Mando realizes it or not, you want to know because it’s him. You want to know him. And maybe it’s because its the most he’s given to you since you stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest— almost a month, and what you’ve gotten from him today alone has been more than he’s given in weeks— not a door so much as it is a window into his life, an allowance, a glimpse behind the beskar. Its more attention, more words and insights, more tiny gestures and maybe you’ve been a little starved for it— maybe you’ll eat up any scraps Mando tosses with a calloused glove, molded and rotting, from his plate.

Even if it’s this, even if its fucking firearms.

You want to know.

It’s who you are: it doesn’t matter what someone’s passionate about, you’re interested in their interests. You care what they care about. If they matter, then it matters. It’s who you are, webbed and weaved into the innermost fabric of your being, and you can’t pretend to be anything else; you don’t know how to unbecome.

You’re splayed before him— a bleating heart, kaleidoscoping and blooming and twisting in his hands. If only you could pry open your chest— turn yourself inside out at the seams, spill yourself to splatter, sanguined and slippery right there on the deck. You’d do it, if you could.

Am I loving enough  Am I giving enough  Have I paid my debts  Am I worth this now, finally— Worth that which I offer, have I earned it back

So effortless, this vignette, seated here in his galley, dismembering a blaster and labeling the parts, terminology klutzy on your tongue— tripping over yourself just to get it out— looking to him for hints and clues, fluttering your doe eyes with cartoonish bats.

He answers. You laugh. He smiles.

The kid is in his pram, entranced by all the shiny baubles and bobbins just out of his reach - thank the Maker -  and giggles at their little game— happy, for once, just to watch.

You and me both kid, Din thinks. You and me both.