#leather holsters for sale

[nakahras]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི slow down • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • every week you find yourself in one of chuuya’s club, one reminiscent of a speakeasy. as his subordinate, you know of each and every one of his establishments. what you never expected was for him to show up to one of your performances. lucky for you he shows up to reward you handsomely for a successful show.

warnings • (buckle up this is gonna be a long one) fem!reader, swearing, alcohol, dubcon, intoxication (both parties), use of the pet names “doll” and “baby”, ņsfw, hair pulling, chuuya is a tease, power imbalance, grinding, very slight exhibitionism, fingering, finger sucking, oral (f -> m), unprotected sex, dacryphilia, wall sex, creampie, cockwarming, i cannot be blamed for what i wrote that wasn’t me

wc • 9.4k

a/n • this has been sitting in my drafts for so long waiting for me to find the will to finish the smut (⌒_⌒;)

the atmosphere is warm and inviting. a mixture of expensive perfumes, liquors and smoke builds an aroma that, although slightly suffocating, is also surprisingly delightful. it’s busy, just like every friday night, thanks to the main act. at least, that’s what chuuya’s been told. 

earlier in the week, his subordinates noticed that numbers for this club in particular, have gone up significantly. it’s now chuuya’s most popular establishment. friday nights, especially, are giving him high revenue. he isn’t complaining by any means, he just wants to know why so maybe he can bring that aspect of this business into his others — or at the very least thank whoever it is that’s responsible for these numbers. 

he’s come to realize that his sales have spiked strictly within the 9-10pm time frame—the peak of the friday night show. he allows performers, mainly singers, to take the stage at night. it’s somewhat of an experiment on chuuya’s end. speakeasies are far and few between; he wants to know if that’s due to the lack of interest or just the lack of organization. he’s happy to see that there’s still interest. 

chuuya wants to see it for himself. that’s what led him here, at his own club in the vip section. he’s sat forward, leaning on the table, his hands folded in front of his face as he anticipates the curtains parting to reveal the subordinate rumored to have captivated this entire club and its patrons. the ginger wasn’t given much to go by, but he knows it’s someone that works under him, it’s supposedly how they managed to get the most coveted slot. 

it’s clear, however, that their talent is what allowed them to keep the slot.

you’re nervous. it’s the first time since your very first performance on this stage that your palms are sweating underneath the leather short gloves you wear. you were told earlier this evening that you had a special guest tonight. when the stage manager told you “no pressure” your fingers twitched, itching to reach for the knife you kept holstered and hold it up to his throat. those two words always had the opposite effect and something told you the bastard knew that.

you take in a shuddered breath as you look at the backstage clock. it’s nearly time. those curtains are about to open and reveal you to whoever it is that’s so important on the other side of the heavy red velvet cloth. you shake your arms and take a few calming breaths as the lights dim further than they already are.

it’s showtime.

you make the decision to not look. you train your eyes to the ground as the curtain rises from the floor, slowly revealing you in your fitted black floor length dress. the thigh slit that reaches your hip leaves you feeling far more vulnerable and exposed than you’d like to admit. as you look everywhere but at the vip section you realize you may be revealing far too much skin with an important guest in the audience. the top half of this dress wasn’t any better either. the short sleeves felt as though they were simply a decoration — hanging off your shoulders exposing not only just your shoulders, but your collar bones and cleavage as well. 

you’re hyper aware of your appearance and now so is chuuya. his breath hitches when the curtain reveals you. you looked devastatingly beautiful, the kind that could ruin his life and he would thank you for it. how did he not know it was you? you’d always piqued chuuya’s interest. he paid closer attention to you than his other subordinates and he had noticed you were always busy on friday nights, but he never would have imagined in a million years that this would be the reason. chuuya didn’t even know you could sing but here you were, singing like a siren and ensnaring the executive in your trap. he was absolutely mesmerized, hanging on to every word you sang.

the executive desperately wants you to look at him but he quickly notices you’re adamantly avoiding the vip section — his section. do you know he’s here? does he make you nervous? the thought of making you nervous stirs something inside of him. something he thought he had suppressed a long time ago because it’s entirely inappropriate of him. chuuya desires you, deeply, desperately, dangerously. watching you on that stage, in that dress has him clenching his jaw. his self control is waning quickly. 

you get through the first song with a surprising amount of ease. your rigid muscles relax as you melt into the melody. your nerve endings igniting with the reverberations of the instruments behind you. you feel electric, everything buzzing as you make it to the last song.

luckily, for you, it’s only supposed to be a short set tonight, 3 songs total. so, when you reach the end of the final song you finally allow yourself a glance. your eyes widen and lips part in utter shock to find the very bicolored eyes that have been haunting your thoughts since you first laid your sights on them. as the curtain drops you reel at the fact that the important guest was none other than the club owner himself, your superior in the port mafia, and executive. chuuya nakahara. your vision tunnels and ears ring as you pretend to listen to whatever praises are being handed over by the crew. you manage to accept them with grace easily then dismiss yourself to your dressing room.

you don’t think much time has passed since the curtain dropped, but you’re proven wrong when you walk through the threshold of the dressing room and the door is promptly shut, revealing your superior. your posture turns rigid and chuuya watches you intently as you swallow thickly. you think the look in his eye is something akin to a predator gazing upon its prey. chuuya doesn’t miss your change in demeanor and the way your throat bobs anxiously. it’s all he needs to know that his earlier suspicions were right. he does make you nervous. 

you bow your head instinctively and offer him a respectful greeting, just like you’d normally do while at work. “i was told someone important was coming to watch my show tonight but i wasn’t aware it’d be you, thank you for coming, nakahara-sama.”

“chuuya. no need to be so formal here…” although chuuya would be lying if said you referring to him in such a way didn’t do something to him.

here you are, the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his gaze upon and you’re being the respectful one. as much as chuuya wants to boast about you clearly admiring him as a superior, that’s not what he’s here for. now that he knows you’re the one that has brought his club popularity, he needed to reward you properly.

”you watch him carefully, making sure he means what he said — it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s being sincere. “right. then… thank you for coming, chuuya.”

oh. his name has never sounded so sweet. but when it falls from your lips like honey, he can’t help but to crave more. 

your voice is saccharine, a true gift from the angels. in fact, your superior isn’t quite convince you aren’t an angel after hearing that set. you truly must be otherworldly. it’s the only explanation.

“have to say, didn’t even know you could sing, let alone sing like that.” you watch as the ginger crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the door. chuuya adjusts his hat and peers down at you through his surprisingly long lashes. 

you’ve never been a skittish person, but chuuya nakahara makes you nervous as hell. “i wasn’t keeping it a secret. you just never asked.” 

“‘spose i should apologize for that then, huh? i just assumed i always made it obvious that i paid special attention to you. but i guess in this situation, that still wasn’t enough. how do you suggest i make up for not asking, doll?” his bicolored eyes scan your face, an easy smile stretching his lips. 

you blink once, twice, three times trying to comprehend what he’s asking you. his smooth honey-like voice entrancing you and making your mind dizzy at the utterance of the term of endearment. your mind is simultaneously moving too fast and too slow. you’re buffering in real-time. you try to snap yourself out of your stupor but it’s hard when the most gorgeous man is standing in front of you, gaze lidded and hungry and directed towards you.

you swallow thickly again and manage to rasp out, “buy me a drink?”

the ginger cracks a smile and before he can even say anything, there’s a rap at the door. chuuya pushes himself off the wooden panel and swivels around. he only cracks open the door enough for him to peek his head out and speak with someone in a hushed tone. you can’t see anything and you think twice about trying to peer over the executive’s shoulder. chuuya toes the door shut and turns around presenting you with a wide grin.  

“why don’t we move this conversation back to my section in the club? i have a surprise waiting for you there.” chuuya steps closer to and casually reaches out and holds the middle of your bare back to guide you.

you don’t have time to form a single coherent thought to even think about declining. you’re being gently pushed towards the dressing room door that chuuya manages to hold open. his hand doesn’t leave your back for a second as you both walk to his semi secluded section. your head is dizzy again. the feeling of the smooth leather from his gloved hand sends a shiver through your spine that you swear he notices, if the smile he’s wearing has anything to show for it.

when you get close enough, you notice two empty glass flutes and the most expensive bottle of champagne this club carries sit atop the table of chuuya’s booth. it’s probably the most expensive bottle of alcohol you’ve ever laid your eyes on. there was no way that was the bottle you thought it was. when you finally get closer you quickly read the label. sure enough you were right, a bottle of dom perignon plenitude 2, brut champagne 2003. your eyes nearly bug out of your head and your mouth moves before you can even second guess your words.

“this is not what i meant, chuuya, this… i can’t accept this.” you stare at the bottle of champagne carefully, it costs far more than what you make in a night singing here.

chuuya’s smile is warm and reassuring as he sort of chuckles through his nose. “don’t worry, doll, you deserve this. it’s no sweat, just enjoy it, okay?” his hand slides up to between your shoulder blades and down again just above the swell of your ass then he repeats that action a few times, clearly trying to sooth your anxious mind.

you involuntarily relax and eventually concede. “fine, i suppose if you’re offering… who am i to refuse at least a glass?”

the grin that you receive from the executive is nothing short of triumphant. the way his nose scrunches a tad bit and the way the dimple on his left cheek becomes more prominent makes him look much younger and full of energy than his usual demeanor does. his smile is contagious, you can’t help but to offer him one of the same value. it takes his breath away.

you take chuuya’s breath away.

the ginger sits in his thoughts and admiration just a little too long. you notice his sudden daze and tilt your head in confusion. “you still here with me? why don’t you do the honors. it’s embarrassing to admit, but i’ve never been very good at opening champagne bottles.”

chuuya lets out a chuckle and reaches for the bottle. you watch in wonderment as he pops it open with ease. you figured chuuya would want the first pour but after filling the first glass he hands it straight over to you. you’re not sure if it’s true but you’ve heard something about the first pour after opening a bottle of wine was the best. you wonder if the same applies to champagne. 

at some point during your walk over to the booth, chuuya had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. he must’ve gotten hot, you vaguely rationalize. you try, and fail miserably, to not ogle at the extra bit of skin and muscle the executive is displaying. maybe he had the right idea. it was getting hot in here.

 if chuuya notices he doesn’t say anything. 

he does notice, it’s hard for him not to. his lips curl slightly at the way your eyes not so subtly trail along his arms. you probably would have caught it if you weren’t so preoccupied. he thinks about making a remark but doesn’t want to embarrass you. so, instead, chuuya clears his throat and holds out his drink to make a short toast. 

you tilt your head with a look of curiosity, waiting for him to make his toast.

chuuya gets the memo and clears his throat almost as if he was nervous. “to your successful set tonight and to making this my most successful club.”

“this is your most successful club?!” you can’t help the obviously baffled guffaw that leaves your throat.

you knew this was a popular club. the public loves the idea of a speakeasy. an obvious difference in vibes from a modern day club — it was a welcomed change. after all, that’s what drew you to it in the first place too. 

to think that this club was so bustling because of you, however, was an entirely different thing. there is no way that this establishment is so lucrative based solely on your performances alone. you can’t possibly take full credit for it. somebody had to have come up with the idea of open mic nights. whoever that was, should be toasted to. not you.

chuuya chortles, clearly finding the shock in both your face and expression amusing. “yes, doll. friday nights specifically. they’re my best nights.”

oh.

yeah, you couldn’t exactly delude yourself into thinking the club's success isn’t because of you anymore. these were clearly your nights. the idea is far too much for you to wrap your head around. you never would have imagined that people enjoy your voice in general. so, to know they not only enjoy it, but they seek it out every week makes your head spin.

you need more champagne.

you finish off the last few sips you have left in your flute then reach for the very expensive bottle sitting next to chuuya. you’re not fast enough, though. chuuya’s nimble fingers wrap around the neck of the dom perignon to pick up the champagne. you think he’s trying to play keep away with you but you’re proven wrong when he tops you off — still with an amused lopsided grin gracing his features. 

you take generous and consecutive sips from your newly poured glass, downing almost all of it in one go. your eyes water and throat stings from the influx of bubbles filtering through your esophagus. the expression on your face scrunches up into a grimace, the sting from the champagne surprising you. you panic as you feel an air bubble traveling back up. you try your best to suppress the burp threatening to release from your throat. you're successful but in place of a burp you let out a squealed hiccup. it’s soft enough to where you think you may have gotten away with it but the look on chuuya’s face says otherwise.

the executive is clearly amused, displaying another wide smile. “thought you said you were only going to have one glass? you’re gonna end up too tipsy before i can even ask you to dance with me.”

you look at him in a daze. your face heats up and you come to the conclusion that it’s equal parts embarrassment and the alcohols affect. your whole body ignites, buzzing as the alcohol runs its course and makes your inhibitions loosen. 

this is dangerous. 

who knew all it took was two glasses of expensive champagne to have your head spinning and mind wandering to places about chuuya it shouldn’t. he is your boss, your higher up, your superior. it’s embarrassing, really, thinking the ginger would, in any way, reciprocate your interest. it had to be a ridiculous notion, right?

wait.

rewind.

he said dance with you. he wanted to dance with you? god, you now desperately wish you hadn’t drunk so much already. the thought alone of dancing with chuuya made your legs wobbly, add the alcohol in the mix and your leg muscles were turning to jelly. 

“dance? you want to dance… with me?” your mind clearly wasn’t wrapping around the concept.

chuuya gives you a curious look. “what? don’t think i can dance?”

you weren’t expecting his playful tone and that devilish smile that’s gracing his lips. as a matter of fact, this chuuya — the one here tonight — is a far cry from his usual self. although you suppose you’ve never seen the executive in a setting where he can be more relaxed. the port mafia doesn’t exactly allow chuuya much room to be a laxed 20-something year old. he’s the strongest ability user, after all. he’s also the port mafia’s most talented fighter, with and without his ability. he’s a forced to be reckoned with and it radiates off of him when he’s wearing his executive mask. a scowl is almost permanently etched onto his face. you actually used to think it was his resting face.

the aura he radiates is one of intimidation. stained red from the blood of his victims and scorching like a raging fire. you hate to admit it but you used to avoid chuuya. he terrified you. but the more you were around him and the more you saw of him that changed.

of course, every interaction you’ve had with him thus far has been strictly professional, naturally. yet, you won’t lie, there was more than one occasion where you’ve let your mind wander to what he’s like outside of his duties. you got glimpses of it in the way he interacts with those he’s truly close with. you think that chuuya it beautiful. a stark difference from the horrifying monster the lower ranks paint him out to be. 

but even when he’s with the people he trusts the most, he’s still at work. this is different. so, you decide this chuuya, here tonight, is refreshing. 

you’re not sure if the decision is solely based on your current inebriated state or not, but right now you could care less. you finally let yourself relax, nerves rolling off your body and evaporating. it’s a visible change that chuuya makes sure to take note of as you return his current energy.

“chuuya-san, that’s quite the assumption, don’t you think? what makes you think that i spend any time thinking about whether you can dance or not?” 

your lashes flutter almost flirtatiously (you blame it on the alcohol) as you tease him. you know well that he hates being referred to in such a formal manner — even by his subordinates. chuuya’s quick, though, and immediately catches on to your teasing. his bicolored eyes almost twinkle with amusement and he offers you a hand. the action is so smooth you don’t even question it, in fact, you don’t even react at first.

“first you question my dancing skills and now you refuse to dance with me? damn, doll, you’re breakin’ my heart.” chuuya snorts at the way your face twists in horror as you realize what’s going on.

“i- no! i’m not- that’s not- !” you stumble over yourself, words spilling from you faster than what your mind can keep up with. you take a breath and grab the ginger’s hand, quite aggressively, and pull him onto the dance floor. 

you’re not quite sure where this sudden burst of confidence comes from, maybe yet another thing to blame on the alcohol, but you roll with it. despite the look and feel of the club, it was still past midnight on the weekend. the speakeasy atmosphere has been replaced with a dj and modern music filtering through every conceivable speaker in this establishment. 

everything is vibrating, it makes it hard to discern whether your fingers are steady or not. god, you hope your fingers are steady as you guide chuuya’s hands to your hips — you also hope you’re not being too forward. the thought is distant and nagging, much like if someone was lightly hammering a dull nail to the back of your head. you let yourself slip into the anxiety spreading in your chest and for a split second, you think your fears are founded, because the gravity manipulator’s fingers ghost your hips, distinctly not finding purchase on your hips. 

the thought of him being nervous too isn’t plausible in your mind, so you don’t even entertain it.

just as you’re about to draw back and pull away, mortified by your own boldness, your breath catches. in fact it almost halts altogether because chuuya’s pulling you closer to him. with your back flush to his chest, you can feel the heat of his body emanating from him. distantly, you wonder if he just naturally runs hot or if it’s just the club, the people all around you, the buzz of the alcohol.

the heat is oddly calming, a reminder of his presence safeguarding your largest vulnerability. maybe that’s the reason he chose this position in the first place, the act of dancing was already exposing enough, you didn’t need to worry about your back being watched when chuuya is sheltering you so well. 

chuuya’s wandering hand splaying across your lower stomach and pushing down says otherwise, though. a pleasant chill courses through you, despite the humid air.

you need to steady yourself, his presence is entirely overwhelming, consuming you almost completely. 

all you can do, all you want to do, is breathe him in.

you need to ground yourself before you do something stupid. you reach up behind yourself and clasp your hand around the back of chuuya’s neck, fingers scraping against his skin lightly as you card your fingers through his hair. the tips of his own fingers on your lower abdomen bite into the fabric of your dress. his other hand grips your hip and guides you, moving you against him — with him.

it’s easy, moving your body in tandem with his. matching his movements was easy and you have to admit to yourself that he’s a really good dancer. chuuya has total control over his body and knows exactly how to move it. you don’t know why you’re so surprised, his extensive training in the martial arts and flexibility have to make for an excellent dancer and it shows. 

you’re so caught up in the feeling of him, the heat of him, against you that your source of intoxication shifts from the alcohol to him. you’re so drunk off the smell of him, off the closeness of him, off the way you can feel every hard muscle of his chest and abdomen against your back. your senses are so clogged up with him that nothing else is getting through.

it doesn’t help that your body is moving on it’s own.

or is it?

no. it’s chuuya, he’s guiding your body. your ass is firmly pressed against him, grinding into him and you hadn’t even noticed in your stupor. 

this is so inappropriate. he’s your higher up for god’s sake. this is wrong, right? but then again…the executive is the one that’s leading your actions, he’s clearly enjoying himself as much as you are. no harm in indulging yourself in him if he’s helping himself to you, right?

in the same moment, chuuya is dipping his head down, lips grazing and breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “you still doubtin’ me?”

you take in another shuddered breath. this man is killing you. he’s doing this on purpose, he has to be. you try to put the blame solely on his shoulders — you want this to be all him so badly. but you know that’s simply delusional because you’ve been drinking and you know very well how alcohol makes you act up.

chuuya teases you further by dropping his head down to your shoulder and nestling his face in your neck. you can feel his warm breath fanning over your skin. electrifying every nerve ending in your body, making your whole being feel like it’s buzzing. you don’t miss the way his lips stretch into a satisfied smirk. it’s then that you realize — he’s doing all this on purpose. the executive is toying with you, creating a game out of making you squirm and seeing how long your self control can last.

how cruel. he knows how stubborn you can be, showing that side of yourself in almost every mission you two have worked together. but he’s never had experience with you intoxicated (luckily for you). so, chuuya also has no idea just how far you throw your inhibitions out the window when alcohol is involved.

the ginger is taken by surprise when a small noise akin to a whimper is released at the back of your throat. if he wasn’t so close to you, he would have missed the noise completely, but he caught it loud and clear, much to your embarrassment. chuuya is stunned further when your backside presses into his front and grinds down harder than your previous slight brushing. you’re absolutely shameless about it, fingers digging into the base of chuuya’s scalp. 

you move your head and match his lidded gaze. “pleasantly surprised…”

in that moment you both move without thinking. it’s like something possessed you both, swam into your brain and took control. it happens so quickly too. one moment you’re simply staring in to eyes and the next, your lips are crashing into the ginger’s, meeting him halfway. it’s surprisingly smooth, an easy kiss considering your slightly intoxicated state. his lips are so plush and soft. you don’t know what you expected. you’ve caught yourself on multiple occasions watching him apply chapstick regularly and each time you were caught in a trance at the action.

chuuya knows exactly what he’s doing, almost as if he’s thought about this before — kissing you. his movements are deliberate and surprisingly soft for how eager he seems. your lips move in sync, slotted together and fitting in a way that makes you think that maybe you were made for one another. it’s a ludicrous thought, you know, but that doesn’t stop you from relishing in it all the same. this must be what dying and then going to heaven feels like, light and elated. 

you’re both moving your bodies to the music around you. it’s quite impressive how chuuya is able to still lead you into moving in time with the beat reverberating through your bones. you turn your body so your chest is flush with his and you bring your other hand up to cup the executive’s face. he takes that opportunity to hold you closer and deepens the kiss. the ginger nips at your bottom lip then shamelessly swipes his tongues along it, eyes open to gauge your reaction. another whimper escapes you and you feel his lips curve once more into a satisfied smirk. 

instead of deepening the kiss further, like where you thought chuuya was leading this, the man in question pulls away. you chase his lips but he’s too quick and you can’t manage to recapture them. how frustrating, it was just getting good too. your face scrunches in confusion.

“chuuya, no-” you lean in and leave an open mouth kiss on his neck and then suck some of his skin into your mouth and graze your teeth across his porcelain skin. chuuya lets out a shuddered breath but keeps his composure, for the most part. “more…”

your whine elicits a breathy laugh from the executive and he brings his hand up to gently stroke your cheek. he watches as your pretty eyes flutter shut at the slightest of touches. his imagination starts to run wild as he thinks of the types of reactions he can pull out of you when he does more to you. the thought alone almost drives him insane. you two need to get the hell out of this club and away from prying eyes.

“we have eyes on us, doll. why don’t we get out of here?” chuuya hums at you questioningly.

your eyes clear from their haze when the ginger’s words register. “...and go where?”

“my apartment. it’s not too far from here. plus- i brought a driver with me tonight. what do you say?”

the executive, your higher up, detaches himself from you and holds his hand out for you to take. your decision was made the moment you set eyes on him while on stage. you easily take his hand and allow him to lead you out to the car he had waiting for the two of you. 

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

the car is nice, again it was something that costs far more than what your level at the port mafia could afford, but you’re still surprised. chuuya enjoys driving, so you never imagined him using a chauffeur. although you suppose he’s responsible and since he’s been drinking at a club…this is clearly the chuuya thing to do. 

the chauffeur does his duty and goes to open the door for you. the younger man, someone you don’t recognize so he must be lower in ranks than you, is stopped by chuuya. the boy, you’ve decided he’s much younger than you — somewhere between 18 and 19 years old — startles at the executive’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“you can return to the car, kid. i’ve got the doors.” chuuya’s tone is light, but still, his words come out as a command.

the chauffeur looks absolutely horrified, obviously thinking he did something wrong and scurries back to the driver’s side. the ginger, on the other hand, clearly pays it no mind as he opens your door for you and offers his hand for help. you let out a light giggle and chuuya can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face.

“what i do now?” 

you shake your head at him in amusement. “that kid looks terrified. are you sure he’s even old enough to drive?”

“he is. taught him how to drive myself. trust me, he’s more than capable of driving us to my apartment.” he tilts his head to indicate that you should get moving into the car. 

instinctively, you do as he says and make your way into the car. your head is still spinning from the champagne you had earlier and suddenly everything is moving quickly. chuuya gets into the car and tells his driver to get moving before lifting the partition, separating the two of you from the boy up front. 

not even a moment later you find one hand gripping the armrest of the car door and the other gripping chuuya’s arm as he has his own ungloved hand shoved in between your thighs. his middle finger is toying with you, circling your clothed clit. your grip on him tightens when he shoves your panties to the side and gathers your wetness before focusing on your clit again. 

your hips stutter and head falls back. your hazy senses distantly warn you that maybe doing this in a car where you aren’t alone with chuuya wasn’t a good idea. what if the driver opens the partition to ask something of your higher up. once again you’re smacked in the face that this isn’t exactly right, you shouldn’t be headed home with your boss. 

you’re brought out of your thoughts when chuuya’s fingers dip down further and prod at your entrance. your breath hitches as he pushes his middle finger inside of you. his fingers are the perfect size, surprisingly long and not abnormally thick but not thin either. you’ve found yourself on multiple occasions staring at chuuya’s hands in the rare moments he actually removes his gloves.

you can feel a noise bubbling in your throat when he brushes his thumb across your clit. “chuu-“ you’re cut off when the ginger adds another finger.

you bite down hard on your lip, trying to not let any noises travel to the front of the car. chuuya notices and leans in, his arm reaching over to spread your legs open. his lips find yours as he does so and in that very moment he chooses to start languidly pumping his fingers in and out of you. you can’t help yourself as you let small moans escape you but the man pulling them out of you makes sure to swallow them up.

when chuuya pulls away from you his bicolored eyes watch you carefully. “no need to hide your pretty noises from me, baby. ‘s soundproof.”

at that reassurance you let out a string of curses while his hand still works you skillfully. you don’t think a man has ever been able to make you feel this good with just his hand. hell, you don’t think even a woman has pulled you so close to the brink this fast with just her hands. it’s almost embarrassing how good he’s making you feel. what’s even worse? chuuya notices.

“‘m i makin’ you feel that good already? gonna be good and cum for me, doll?” chuuya’s fingers speed up, both the ones inside you and the thumb he has brushing against your clit.

you squirm at the increased intensity. your abdomen feels like it’s on fire, the warmth spreads and your vision starts to become spotted. your other hand on the car door now flies to his arm too and you brace yourself the best you can.

“mm fuck- chuuya- gonna- oh m- cumming!” you let out a silent squeal, mouth hanging open as your head is thrown back against the headrest. 

your body convulses lightly as you plummet. the same warmth building from earlier now spreading throughout your entire body. your vision blurs and everything sounds muffled. moans are falling from your mouth but you don’t even register them. chuuya is merciless with his ministrations. he continues to guide you through your orgasm.

once you’ve settled down, all of your tense muscles relax and you slump into your seat. you let out a whimper when chuuya finally pulls away, leaving you feeling distinctly empty. you loll your head around to look at the executive. it’s all you can muster in this moment while you’re still trying to catch your breath. 

the sight you’re met with almost makes you cum for the second time. the ginger looks over to you, catching your gaze immediately. as he maintains eye contact, chuuya brings his hand up to his lips and pushes his soiled fingers past them. you watch as his eyes flutter and throat bob while he drinks up the juices you left behind on his skin. he lets out a sinful groan and you swear it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard. 

you sit up straight and brace yourself for climbing over the center armrest but you’re both startled by a knock on chuuya’s window. that’s when you realize, you must be at his apartment because the car had come to a stop. you reach for your door handle but the sound of the executive behind you clicking his tongue draws your attention away from it.

you peer over at him and he’s giving you a disapproving glare. “don’t you dare touch that damn door, be patient, yeah?”

you feel your face flush, you don’t think you’ve ever been scolded for trying to open your own door. unable to find your voice you simply nod your head. a gratified smile stretches across chuuya’s face. he opens his own door and before he slips out he looks back at you.

“good girl.”

you choke on your own spit. 

those two simple words are enough to have your thighs rubbing together, ready for him again. you’re blaming all of this in the two glasses of champagne you had back at the club. there was no way one man (derogatory) was pulling this kind of reaction out of you on his own. that would just be utterly ridiculous. 

that’s what you try to convince yourself of when your car door opens and chuuya offers you his hand again. you gladly take it considering this time your legs are a little shaky. the gravity manipulator politely dismisses the driver and guides you into the building. 

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

the ginger has you attached to his hip as the both of you step through the threshold. the lobby is quiet and almost sparkling. you think that this lobby is nicer than the entirety of your apartment. the difference is almost jarring. the older man that’s sitting at the front desk waves politely at chuuya and the executive gives him a friendly wave back. 

“good evening, nakahara-sama. i see you’ve brought a guest.” the older man looks at you with a warm smile. “such a pretty young lady. it’s nice to see nakahara-sama with someone, he rarely has guests outside of his work colleagues.” 

you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. if only the man knew. but who are you to spoil his fun? in fact, you find yourself joining in. 

“it’s nice to meet you…”

the old man blanches and looks almost mortified with himself. “how rude of me! my name is tanaka.”

you introduce yourself as well and give the man a mischievous smile. “thank you for boosting my ego, tanaka. it’s nice to know chuuya isn't bringing home many women.”

the older man’s eyes widen and he tries to stifle a snort. 

“alright. you two are dangerous together. have a good evening tanaka.” chuuya quickly ushers you away with a sour look on his face. “to clarify, there’s a reason i don’t bring other women around and it’s not for the reason you think it is.”

you snicker and can’t help the sardonic smile that’s plastered on your lips. “then tell me, what’s the real reason, chuuya?” 

you vaguely notice you pass a hallway of elevators and instead walk directly to a separate one with a key card pad. 

“you. you’re the reason i don’t bring anyone else around.”

his voice is surprisingly soft and timid, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say anything without full confidence. you blink, the switch in his demeanor is so staggering you buffer for a moment. that paired with the implications of his words has your mouth flapping like a fish out of water.

you try to attribute the fluttering in your stomach to your earlier activities and not his words, yet you’re unable to form a proper coherent thought. “what do you- what?”

chuuya finds your blanching absolutely adorable. the ginger lets out a short chuckle. he doesn’t explain himself. instead the ability user leans in and holds your face with his now gloved hand. he searches your eyes for a moment, you don’t know what he’s looking for but after a moment you think he’s found it because his face relaxes into a satisfied expression. 

he leans in all the way this time, capturing your lips with his own. the kiss starts off gentle but quickly turns fervent when he presses you into his and a wall. that’s when you feel a distinct bulge pressing on your stomach. the thought alone makes you whimper. 

you detach yourself from chuuya’s lips and press your head against the wall behind you, the ginger isn’t deterred as he starts to trail kisses along your jawline. “chuuya…have you been hard this entire time?”

you’re met with a grunt as chuuya all but ignores your comment and works his way down your neck. you let out an amused puff of air and look for the button for what you can only assume is his private elevator. all you’re met with is that damn keycard pad. your arm is snaked around his waist and you tap on his back to gain his attention.

“chuuya, call for the elevator.” your voice comes out far more strained and breathy than you meant it to and you watch as chuuya notices.

he pulls away from you, only enough for him to reach into his pocket and give you an amused smirk. “since when were you the one to give the orders, huh, doll?”

you give him a deadpan look, clearly not amused by his teasing. chuuya, however, evidently thinks he’s hilarious and chuckles to himself as he leans back and scans his keycard to call for the elevator. this was the port mafia executive everyone is scared of? the strongest ability user in all of japan, maybe in all of the world? to you, in this moment, he seems like just some regular 20 something years old loser. he’s so lame and somehow you find it utterly endearing.

the elevator dings and the doors open. a lightbulb goes on in your head and you have a brilliant idea. without wasting another moment you push chuuya into the elevator and before he can even get a complaint out — you knew it was coming by the look on his face — your hand starts stroking his clothed cock. the ginger lets out a hiss as he stumbles back into the wall.

chuuya lets out a shaky breath that’s a stark difference to his following words. “shit, no need to be so rough. ‘m all yours.”

“i don’t know…something tells me you enjoy rough, chuuya-sama.” your tone is teasing, referring to the title tanaka previously used with the executive.

you watch in absolute amusement as your superior’s eyes fly open and brows shoot up. he looks at you with the most scandalized expression. he’s only ever seen this side of you with his other subordinates, your equals. he never realize how much he craved this type of interaction from you until just now. you just gave him something so precious and you don’t even know it. 

chuuya is so astonished he can’t even formulate a way to tease you, his mouth is just blurting out words before his brain can catch up.

“where the hell did that mouth on you come from? just earlier you were trembling at the sight of me watching you sing.” you watch something flash in his eyes and his lips curl up devilishly. “y’know what? i think i deserve a reward for making you cum so easily in the car. what d’ya think, doll?”

you back away, a mischievous smile of yours matching his perfectly. you don’t keep the distance very long — someone had to hit the floor button to get this elevator moving. once you feel the soft jolt of the elevator you make your way to where you left chuuya, still leaning against the wall and watching your every move. the moment you’re close enough to him you sink to your knees. 

you’re face to face with the ginger’s bulging crotch and you stare at him through your lashes. “is this what you had in mind as your reward?”

”yeah, something exactly like this.” chuuya reaches down and runs the fingers of both his hands through your hair, he gathers the tresses all together and fists it all in one hand in a makeshift ponytail. you hum in appreciation. while still looking at the freckled man through your lashes you stick your tongue out and lick a stripe across his clothed length. 

the executive’s eyes flutter, a clear indication that he was sensitive, having been hard for far too long. his eyes momentarily leave yours and flit over to the floor number the elevator is passing. chuuya never thought he would ever value the slow ascent of this damn elevator but he’s found a new appreciation for it. you’ve only climbed 3 stories, which means you still have 20 more. that’s plenty of time, certainly enough for you to get his dick wet enough to slide right into your warm cunt once the elevator has made it to your destination. 

you’re quick to earn chuuya’s attention back when he hears the sound of his buckle being undone. he’s met with the sight of you using your teeth. fuck. chuuya has always known you’re sexy, but this? this might actually drive him insane. a sweet smile curls at your lips as you watch him unravel before your very eyes. 

you hasten your movements, popping the button of his slacks open and using your teeth, once again, to drag the zipper down just enough that his bulge in his boxer-briefs is freed. you do the same with his underwear and, god, when he’s finally free you have to take a moment to admire it. you think it’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, truly. that’s saying something considering you don’t necessarily find the sight of them attractive.

the length of it is just as pale as the rest of his body but the closer it gets to the tip, his skin turns into a soft pink. his veins are visible and pulsing at this point and his tip is already drooling. you notice how there’s a string of precum that’s attached to the wet spot on his underwear but you keep any comments to yourself. 

you look up to chuuya only to find him already watching you. he must have caught you staring because his breathing is shallow and his cheeks are flushed the same shade of pink as his tip. you smile at him again and dart your tongue out to gently lick the slit of his tip. the ginger's head immediately falls back and he lets out a puff of air. 

how is this man real?

you lick up his precum and it tastes absolutely divine. what the actual fuck is he made out of? and what the actual fuck is he doing to you? you actually think it’s insane how much you’re enjoying this. 

your lips wrap around his tip and a low grumble reverberates in his chest. you’re so fucked. down horrendous for this man. your thighs start rubbing together and he’s not even hitting the back of your throat yet. this is so humiliating, no, this is so pathetic of you. you gladly got on your knees for this man. what the fuck is wrong with you?

”hah- doll, keep your pretty eyes on me, yeah? sh-shit- wanna see you cryin’ when you take all of me, got it?” chuuya’s bicolored gaze is somehow still sharp despite the obvious loss of a filter.

oh.

oh.

that’s what’s wrong with you. this man isn’t just a man. this is chuuya nakahara. port mafia executive, strongest ability user and apparently the owner of a silver tongue. your own had reaches up to his, the one that’s holding your hair and you guide him in shoving you down onto his length. you relax your throat and easily take him all in. your nose is buried in his pubic hair and eyes flutter as you test tightening up your throat around him. you gag around chuuya and he let’s out the most obscene moan you think you’ve ever heard. 

the port mafia executive looks a mess. his free hand is tightly gripping his hat atop his head and the perspiration forming on his face starts to trickle along his temples and down his jawline. his breathing comes out in pants and he looks absolutely destroyed. a flicker of pride spreads across your chest. sure, this man has you on your knees voluntarily but you think he would just as easily get on his knees for you. you have this powerful man in the palm of your hand. 

the hand tangled in your hair tugs on you just harsh enough to pull you off of him completely. “jesus christ, i can’t- fuck- doll. i can’t keep doing this, i need to be inside of you. right now. need to be buried in your pretty cunt, please-” 

chuuya doesn’t wait for your response, he lifts you off the floor of the elevator and hoists you up. his grip on his self control is noticeably waning as he momentarily uses his ability to skip stabilizing you on your feet and immediately has you wrapping your legs around his hips. your head is dizzy, everything moving so quickly. the ginger notices and instantly corrects that. 

he has one arm wrapped around you and it’s enough to keep you stable. “…sorry… i got carried away. are you ok with this. we can wait, just 5 more floors and we can go to my bedroom where i have condoms.”

his free hand strokes the hair away from your face. the gesture is soft, a complete 180 from his previous behavior. you lean into the touch, letting your eyes fall shut for just a moment to relish in how he calms you. 

you hum lightly and open your eyes to look at him earnestly. “no, i want you now too. think we’ve both waited long enough.”

chuuya smiles at you and leans in to steal yet other kiss from you. this one is soft but just as desperate as the rest of them. he sneaks his hand between the two of you and pushes your underwear to the side once again. you feel his cock nestle itself right between your folds. 

chuuya lets out a strained exhale and moves his hips to slide himself between your folds. “fuckin’ hell, doll. you’re so damn wet, could get off just like this. wanna feel how soft and warm your pussy is, though. can i, baby? please?”

your  hands tug at the hairs at the base of chuuya’s neck and he hisses. “chuuya, please, just fuck me already.”

that’s all the confirmation chuuya needs. he uses his free hand that’s still positioned between the two of you to grab the base of his dick and align himself with your entrance. his tips prods at you and as he’s sinking you onto him, both of you letting out an absurd amount of moans, the elevator finally dings. the doors open to reveal chuuya’s apartment to you. 

you would love to admire the vast living quarters but your attention is solely on chuuya. the way he stretches has you in near shambles. hiccuped whimpers leave your lips and you already feel so full. 

you weren’t going to last like this, there is no way in hell you’re going to last more than maybe 5 minutes. but based on chuuya’s reaction, incoherent babbles falling past his lips and hair matted to his forehead with sweat, neither was he. the mafioso’s present enough to know you’ve made it to his apartment. 

chuuya plants a hand on both sides of your ass and walks you into his home. he kicks his shoes off haphazardly and you let yours fall somewhere near his. your superior makes it all but 7 paces forward before he’s pressing you against a wall in the foyer. 

“you feel s’fuckin’ good, baby. s’tight and warm and soft. s’perfect f’me.” the ginger’s words are slurred, more so than when he was actually drinking.

you’re in no better condition as you whine out, “chuuya, need more. need you to move, wanna feel you moving inside of me.”

who is he to deny you of such a pretty request. you’re practically sobbing when chuuya’s hips roll into you before pulling back and bullying back into your fluttering cunt. you let out a loud moan, almost screaming, the kind that hangs on the walls and echoes throughout the room. before you can get too carried away, you crash your lips into chuuya’s and let him drink up your noises just as you do with him. 

his grip on your ass is bruising as his fingertips bite into the plush skin through your dress. god, your dress, it was one of the nicest articles of clothing you own and now it’s most definitely ruined. you hardly have the capacity to worry about that right now.

chuuya’s pace quickens to an impossible pace. he’s jostling you around so much that your head dizzies and you can’t even keep your lips attached to his. you let your head drop to the executive’s shoulder and your lips ghost his earlobe. your moans and whines are now loud and clear in his ear. 

a guttural groan escapes the ginger and his hips begin to stutter. he’s close, you identify it right away. he was going to cum soon and you were still on the brink, barely not there yet. 

“more, chuuya need- oh my god- need more, please…” 

chuuya hums out an acknowledgement — maintaining his pace, he frees one of his hands and reaches between the two of you once more. his middle finger locates your clit with ease and it almost sends you spiraling right then and there.

your forehead nuzzles further into chuuya’s neck at the extra stimulation. “chuuya- fuck- chuuya, chuuya, chuuya….”

your mind finally goes blank giving way to the man bullying into your cunt so deliciously. he’s all you can hear, feel, smell, taste and see. your senses are consumed by him. your eyes well up with tears at the immense amount of pleasure your experience. 

it’s only when you have enough sense to pick up your head to warn chuuya of your incoming orgasm that your fuzzy brain registers the encouragement and cooing he’s offering you.

chuuya’s voice is strained but his comfort is enough to send you into a fit of sobs as you finally crash into your second high of the night. this one is far more intense than the last. you feel your walls convulsing around chuuya’s cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him nestled deep inside of you. the aforementioned man seems to be at his wits end and his next words prove you right.

“o-oh- hah- fuck- doll, ‘m gonna cum- fuck- where do you want it, where do i- shit-“

you grip his shoulders desperately and let out a whimper, still incoherent and flitting in and out of consciousness as your orgasm still washes over you in waves. “inside- chuuya, want you to- mmm fuck- want you to cum inside of me. please, please, please-“

that’s it, that’s the only thing you need to say to have chuuya burying himself deep inside of your cunt and spilling into you. you can feel the way his cock twitches and pulses against your walls as he empties himself. you both breathe in unison as your try to catch your breath and come back to reality from the mind breaking pleasure you’d just experienced.

chuuya’s the first to come back. he straightens, letting his coat hit the floor. he’s gentle, moving you to lean into him as he continues to support you when he peels you off the wall. you hum in appreciation and vaguely realize you should wrap your arms around his shoulders, so you do. 

chuuya doesn’t take you far. you’re lifting your head the same moment he’s squatting down to sit you both on the couch. he hoists you up, ready to slip himself out when you let out a noise that’s a cross between a whine and a whimper. you’re shaking your head at him and how is he supposed to say no to your tear streaked face. 

chuuya allows you to cockwarm as he pulls his phone from his pocket and starts typing.

your head tilts in confusion and you furrow your brows at him. ”who are you texting?”

”the boss and akutagawa.” chuuya’s quick to answer as he types away still.

”…what for?”

he smirks and looks at you this time while he speaks. ”i need to tell the boss i’ll be missing our meeting tomorrow and akutagawa that you’ll be absent from assignment tomorrow. looks like we’ve both come down with a hellish stomach bug.”

your face flushes at his implication. it seemed to you chuuya didn’t plan on letting you sleep much tonight. you find yourself running your hands over his shoulders and chest. you wouldn’t mind seeing him completely undressed. when you look back at him, he seems to have the same thought as his eyes drink you in.

it’s probably for the best that he was calling you both off duty tomorrow. it seems like you have a long night ahead of you.

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island Spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1840

Summary: You and your co-worker Leon Kennedy are sent on a mission to rescue a kidnapped robotic engineer Dr. Antonio Taylor. The journey for him leads the two of you to somewhere you thought you would never go, Alcatraz.

A/N: God I loved Death Island. I saw it in theaters on opening weekend a few weeks ago and loved every minute of it. This is me trying to remember the lines and small plot points of this movie from weeks ago so sorry if I get some stuff wrong.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

San Francisco was beautiful this time of year, but unfortunately you weren’t here to sight see. The shops lining the area were littered with “FOR SALE” signs and different colored fronts. The streets, admittedly, needed a little bit of getting used to driving on with the hills and trams. While you were busy looking at the foliage and people passing, your partner was talking on the phone and your ear coms. 

The two of you certainly were a sight. You dressed in a black leather jacket, jeans and boots with a Panigale V2 Ducati with red accents; your partner, Leon Kennedy, with a blue bomber jacket, black jeans, boots and the same model Ducati with green accents. Together, the two of you made sense. You went together like Bert and Ernie if Bert and Ernie were weapons trained by the United States government and molded into whatever they needed you for. 

And just like Bert and Ernie, the two of you refused to talk about your feelings for each other.

It was just easier that way. If you two went without saying your feelings for each other, no one would get hurt. The fantastic duo you two were would continue to thrive and not feel awkward. 

The sight of a white van flying past the two of you brought you back from your daydream and thoughts. The very same white van the two of you were tracking. 

“He’s early,” Leon grumbled and turned his bike on.

“We’re counting on the two of you to get him back.” Hunnigan’s voice cut through your ear com. Your thumb flicked the engine of your bike on and through the earbud you heard Leon reply with a chuckle. 

“You sure do love to rush me,” He retorted and the two of you took off behind the white van. 

“Tell me why the hell we’re rescuing Dr. Taylor. Didn’t he weaponize his robotics?” You asked rhetorically through your ear piece. The two of you were weaving in and out of traffic, keeping a close distance to the van. Whoever was behind the wheel definitely knew you were after them. 

“Because we’re just the grunts, we do what we’re told,” Leon replied and sped in front of you. 

“Ha ha.” You replied and kept an eye on your rearview mirror in case anyone was coming from behind. The road was slightly busy, making the driving not as hard as it could’ve been, thankfully. Eventually the van brought you two to the highway, making following it easy and a straight shot. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw another truck getting interestingly close to the chase. “We got company,” You said over the ear com to Leon. 

“Great, switch,” Leon replied. With ease, the two of you swapped; you speeding ahead of Leon and him dropping back. The Ducati was purring under you, matching your every move smoothly like butter. 

Leon had dropped back and out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman get out of the truck boxing you two in. The woman jumped out of the truck, landing on the back of his bike and putting him into a headlock. With a gag of surprise, he tried to steer the bike and deal with her at the same time. 

Looking through the rear-view mirror, you could see Leon struggling and turned your head over your shoulder to see what was happening. Hitting your brake, you dropped back so his bike was in front. Sliding into your back holster, you slid your Beretta out and tried to shoot the woman in the leg, trying to get her to let go of Leon. 

Using her leg, the woman steered the bike towards a semi truck and ran along the side of it, flipping to the front of the bike, in front of Leon. She started throwing punches, while Leon tried to dodge it, attempting to not crash the bike. With her now in front and so close to Leon, you were too scared to shoot her, afraid of hitting your partner. 

She launched herself over his head, hitting the front brake with her heel. Leon’s bike instantly braked on the front tire, sending him flying over the handlebars. 

“Leon!” You said, shooting the woman in the road. She jumped back into the truck she came out of. Your eyes went to Leon who rolled on the pavement, lessening the hit to his body. He eventually got to his knees and took his Sentinel out of the holster, scanning everywhere. 

“Leave me, I’m fine,” He replied over the ear coms, watching you pass him. “Get Taylor!” He barked. 

You sped towards the white van holding your target. “Hunnigan, it’s (L/n). Leon needs a transit while I keep chase,” You said over the ear coms. 

“And why would he need that?” Hunnigan’s voice asked. You could see her pinching the bridge of her nose at her desk by the tone of her voice. 

“Do you have to ask?” You replied, chuckling. “Seriously, when will you guys stop letting that man drive?” You asked snarkily. 

“Hey, I’m a fine driver!” You could hear Leon reply over the radio. “.... Man, I loved that bike…” He said, the frown on his face audible. 

“When you survive a mission without crashing something, lemme know,” You retorted and kept your eyes on the truck and the van trying to sandwich you. The white van was slowing down as the black truck was speeding up. You drove to another lane, trying to get around the van. The van slammed into the bike and you steered it clear. The van hit you again and sent you flying towards an exit. With a stutter, the engine on your Ducati started to smoke. You used the momentum of the hit to push you towards the exit, giving up on catching Taylor. 

“Fuck…” You said under your breath as you pulled the bike over. Your eyes watched the van and the truck disappear, bringing your target with them. Your finger went up to the radio in your ear. “Leon, when you get that transport pick me up at the next exit. I got rammed.” You said and crossed your arms, looking at the engine. 

“And you gave me shit,” He retorted.

“Shut up,” You grumbled back. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon pulled up to you on another bike, a shit eating grin on his face. “And who’s the best driver now?” He asked teasingly. 

You stood up and put a hand on your hip, staring at him. “Yeah, yeah, scooch,” You said and waved your hand for him to move to the back seat on the bike. 

“Really?” He asked, but scooted back anyway. He knew better than to challenge you on something like this. It usually ended up with you winning anyways. 

“Alright, hold on, pretty boy,” You said teasingly and got on the bike. “You get to be the passenger princess now,” You added and grinned. Leon’s arms hesitantly wrapped around you and you could hear the groan under his breath. 

“This is embarrassing,” He said slightly. 

“I’m making you sit behind me, not wear an apron with polka dots and bows,” You replied and snickered. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Leon replied curtly and tightened his grip around your waist. 

After a little bit of driving in silence, you looked at Leon through the rearview mirror. “Hey, you saw her face. She looked really familiar, who was she?” You asked, meaning the woman who tried to paint the pavement with Leon. 

“You remember Arias?” Leon asked, getting closer to you. 

“Yeah?”

“It was Maria,” He replied and looked forward. 

“Oh,” You said, suddenly getting quiet as you were thinking. “What the hell does she want with Taylor?” You asked. 

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be heading back,,” Leon said and nudged you a bit. 

“True, I guess,” You said under your breath and focussed back on driving. Eventually the two of you made it back to the AirBNB you booked and parked the bike. “Your ass is lucky that you’re a DSO founder. I don’t think they’d put up with the bill you run if you weren’t,” You said, tapping his arm as you got off the bike. 

“What can I say, I’m certainly special,” He added, his signature smirk on his face. 

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Is that the word you use?” You asked. The two of you got in the condo and you took off your leather jacket. 

“So, you wanna break the news to Hunnigan?” Leon asked, shedding his bomber jacket. He walked over to the couch and pulled his phone out, looking up something. 

“Absolutely not!” You replied. “I can do no wrong in her eyes and I wanna keep it that way,” You said and walked to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water. Walking over to the couch, you handed Leon a bottle. “It’s all yours,” You said and grinned widely. 

“Wow, thanks,” Leon said sarcastically and watched you sit down. You absentmindedly fixed his hair, combing a few strands down with your fingers. He leaned towards you more while he dialed Hunnigan’s number, letting you fix more of his hair. Your fingers ran through his long brown hair, noticing how, when the light hit it, it almost looked blonde. 

“Hey Hunnigan, got some bad news. Both me and (Y/n) lost Taylor. Someone crashed the party and we had to deal with them,” He said, putting the phone on speaker and putting it on the coffee table. You bent your legs so you were sitting criss-crossed and kept playing with his hair, paying attention to the conversation. 

“Did you get a good look at the license plate? I can track where it went through traffic lights and records,” Hunnigan said, almost expecting the mission to go wrong. It was never easy for you and Leon, something always went wrong. At this point, Hunnigan expected it. 

“Yeah, it was a New York license plate,” You said and proceeded to tell her the number. After a few seconds, Hunnigan hummed on the other end. 

“Got it. Traffic light cameras show that they made their way towards one of the islands,” Hunnigan replied. 

You and Leon met each other’s gaze, almost as if saying the same thing. There were only two islands in the direction that the van was going. 

“Get your gear ready, you two are headed to Alcatraz,” Hunnigan added. 

“Got it, thanks Hunnigan. We owe you,” You said and watched Leon hang up. 

“Alcatraz….” Leon said and leaned back on the couch, putting his arms behind his head. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his crystal blue eyes met the ceiling, studying it as the gears turned in his head. 

“You ready?” You asked and grinned.

“Ready for what?” He asked, looking at you. 

“A prison break,” You replied. 

“You bet your ass I am,” He said and grinned. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my AO3!

[youfreakinturltle]

Protect You Pt. 4

(A/N): Okay friends! So sorry for the delay, life has definitely been interesting lately! Here is part 4 in the Protect You series! I believe this will be the final part and is kind of a long one! I based the haunted house off a house that’s actually in my home town that I visited once before it was bought. The TLDR of it, I have no idea what this house’s backstory is, it is not open to the public, nor was it when my stepmom and I decided to go take a look lol! But this is based off an experience I had when I was about 15 and the house was up for sale before being bought by a lovely family. Out of respect for the family and their safety, I won’t be giving in depth details on the exterior of the house, nor it’s location, but I will say I grew up a whole 5 minutes away from this house so it’s image is forever engrained in my mind. For the story’s sake, this will take place with the house as it was when I visited! Hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: pirate mentions, ghosts, slight violence,some language, blood mention, mild nsfw (mostly bc I’m too awkward to go past mild 🥲), death mentioned (don’t worry, no one dies lol)

As you grew accustomed to your, as you began calling it, “second life”, you noticed that all in all, not much changed. You still went on all of the guys’ adventures, stayed at their house, and kept watch over them when it came to the paranormal. When your body was returned to you, you looked exactly the same as you had when you died. Still in your black corset (which served more as armor than an accessory in your previous life), white tunic, and leather jacket, pants, and boots. And luckily, your daggers were still snugly in place on your lower back. Some time before you died you’d had the local armorer on Nassau add holsters for them onto the back of your corset, forgoing the need of a clunky belt like your crew mates. You did take notice though upon returning, the lack of bullet holes in your clothes, something you hadn’t realized Mara had taken care of until you woke.

While you knew the time you woke up to catered to far different forms of fashion than you were used to, you realized it was also a time period where most people wore what they wanted without a care. So, taking this into account, you typically styled yourself how you would’ve when you were still a pirate. Often opting for a tunic like shirt, some leather pants with knee high boots, of course lots of jewelry, and your ever reliable jacket. On occasion you would wear your corset over your tunic of the day, but typically opting for forgoing it.

Today was one of those days where you not necessarily wanted to wear your corset, but rather had to. You see, the guys decided for their first night of Hell Week to visit a little known, but very haunted house in Texas. They couldn’t find anything online about the house or its story, but had been told about it by a fan online. The mystery behind it, not knowing what could possibly be there, is what unnerved you the most and prompted you to bring your blades. The girl online had told them briefly about her experience, being too afraid to delve too deeply. Among her recount though, included a book being thrown at her head. Of course it wouldn’t be a nice spirit, that would be too easy.

You’re sitting in the front passenger seat next to Colby, who was driving, your hand held tightly in his. About halfway from the airport you noticed his hands had begun to shake, so you quickly took one in yours and had yet to let go, too embarrassed to admit you needed it just as much as he. Something about facing the dead after having your life returned to you left you feeling uneasy. Like every spirit you crossed paths with since knew your secret, and they were angry about it.

Before you know it the car is turning off the main road and into the short driveway of the faded pink house. Immediately, you get a sinking feeling in your gut, but you quickly push it away when you turn around to smile at Sam who was speaking into the camera in the back seat. Today it was just the three of you and Kat. You loved the other guys, but sometimes their antics could be a bit much during an investigation. Once the car is stopped the four of you step out and take a look around. Thankfully, because the house is foreclosed, you’re allowed to be on the property so you don’t have to worry about anyone driving past and seeing you. Going inside on the other hand, that you’re not too sure about.

After finishing up the intro for the video, Colby turns to the group and asks if everyone is ready to head inside. There is a hesitant chorus of yes’s that causes all of you to chuckle nervously.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll protect you from all the scary ghosts,” you say laughing as you grab onto Colby’s hand again. Not wanting to waste any more time, you lead them all to the porch. Walking up the steps you notice a tin cup sitting on the railing of the porch right next to the stairs.

“That’s not weird or anything,” you think to yourself before continuing on to the door.

“How do you think we get inside? You think there’s a window unlocked somewhere?” You hear Kat ask from behind you.

“Hmm, maybe…” you say thoughtfully, your hand already traveling to the doorknob in front of you. To everyone’s surprise, the door clicks open with ease.

“Okay… getting weirder…” you think walking through the entryway. But before you can get any further, you feel a firm hand on your right shoulder. Almost like it’s trying to push you into the floor. Whipping your head around to look at Colby, you ask what he wants.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” He asks looking at you with concern.

“I swear I just felt a hand on my shoulder… I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m okay,” you say shaking your head a bit and smile up at him. Everyone else walks in behind you and astonishingly enough, all of them felt it too. You look around the entryway and see stairs to your right with what looks like the remnants of a reading nook to the right of them next to the door. To your left is a sunroom, chimney in the middle of the far wall with windows completely surrounding the remaining wall space. Inside are a few bookshelves on the left, half filled with old books that look to be falling apart, a small couch in the center, and a grand piano on the right. You take note of the fact that the top of the piano is wide open and the fall board, or key lid, is shut with the bench pushed under it.

Moving on, you walk past the stairs and into the living room where you see another, larger couch in the center, another fireplace, some end tables, empty bookshelves, and a large somewhat empty picture frame above the fire place. At first glance, it appears as if nothing was ever in it, but looking closer you can see that a painting had been torn out of it as some of the edges are still sticking out of the frame. This immediately causes you to begin exercising extreme caution, and your hand goes right to one of the daggers on your back.

Behind you, you hear Kat let out an ear piercing shriek as she all but launched herself into your arms.

“What?! What happened? Are you okay?? Kat what’s wrong?” Sam asked frantically, pointing the camera to the ground out of respect for his girlfriend.

“Is a- it’s- it- a- a- r-r-RAAAT!!” She finally gets the word out, still violently shaking in your arms. You all let out a breathy laugh of relief as you attempt to calm the girl down. You all are about to walk into the kitchen when you suddenly hear a rattling noise from the sunroom. Furrowing your brow, you look to Colby and motion for them to go into the kitchen while you investigate.

Walking quietly through the living room, you don’t realize you’re holding your breath as you unsheathe your daggers to hold them in front of you. Your steps stutter when you feel a finger ghost it’s way down the scar across your eye, the one you received in your fight against Captain Flint so long ago. Back when you still gave a shit about him. Chills make their way down your spine as you begin to realize something that utterly terrifies you. You can’t see this one. You could always see the spirits, even after you woke back up, no matter how strong or weak they’ve been. But this one, you can’t see, you can’t hear, you can barely even sense its presence. Like it’s purposefully keeping itself hidden. But from what you can sense, it’s bad. Very bad. It almost feels familiar but you just can’t place it.

Shaking off the feeling, you finally step into the sunroom once again. As soon as you set foot in there though, the grate that had been firmly closed in front of the fireplace came crashing open as dozens of bats came flying out at you. In an instant, you threw yourself to the floor with a loud thud, narrowly avoiding them.

“Shit! (Y/N) are you okay?! What was that?” You hear Colby call from the kitchen.

“I’m fine! Just some bats, a little creeped out, but I’m okay.” You rise to your feet once you confirm the bats have all made their way upstairs. Figuring the noise you had heard came from the bats, you make your way back to the group in the kitchen. As soon as Colby sees you he reaches his hand out for you to grab and asks if you’re sure you’re okay.

“I’m okay, but we shouldn’t linger long. I have a bad feeling about this place. There’s something watching us, but I can’t see it.” You say taking Colby’s hand in yours. He immediately looks worried as he is the only one fully aware of the fact that you can still see spirits.

“You can’t… you’re sure?” Fear written all over his face, he begins looking around as well.

“I’m still here with you guys, alright? Everything’s-“ You’re cut off from trying to calm them all down by a loud, crystal clear, music note chiming across the house. You all freeze before slowly turning your head towards the sunroom once again.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me…” but before you can utter a single other word, you all hear plain as day: a beautiful interpretation of a song you hadn’t heard in a very long time. Coming from the piano that should by no means, be making any noise above a dull thud, let alone playing as clearly as it is. None of your friends can figure out why you just went as pale as a sheet as they wouldn’t have any way of being familiar with this song, for it was one sung on your old ship. One only members of your former crew should know.

“We need to leave. Immediately.” You don’t realize how badly you’re shaking until Colby rests a hand on your shoulder. You’re in the middle of trying to calm down so you can properly protect them when you hear something so jarring, it sends you to your knees. A deep, low hum, the note carrying out across the house.

“The king… and his men… stole the Queen from her bed…”

“What the hell is that?!” You hear Kat shriek from beside you. You’re now on the ground shaking so violently, you can no longer answer her. You now have a feeling as to who this could be. And you have the slightest inkling as to why this being would be so angry with you. Though the thing you can’t figure out is how he ended up here of all places. Somewhere so far from your home that it just doesn’t make sense.

“…and bound her in… her bones… the seas be ours… and by the powers… where we will… we’ll roam…” the deep, unsettling voice continued.

“You guys need to leave.” You tried convincing them to get out of the house. You so desperately didn’t want them to experience a remnant of your past. Especially one as jarring as this.

“Not a chance. I’m not leaving you here alone,” You hear Colby blurt out next to you. Before you can respond though, you hear everyone start screaming as you feel cool metal touch your neck. Right beside your ear, you hear a deep raspy voice say, “sing… the song… be reminded… of yer brethren…”

The touch of the blade seems to bring you back to your senses, as you’re suddenly calm and no longer shaking. You’re about to comply when you see another figure step out of the shadows. This new figure, you can see first off, but has a visible, heavy limp. Each step he takes, accompanied by a loud thump of wood on wood.

“Ye remember him… don’t ye? Or have… ye forgotten us… in this new life of yers…” the being behind you seems to spit out the words “new life”, as if the thought of you having anything remotely good happen would be a sin.

You finally manage to croak out a single word as tears begin streaming down your cheeks, your friends almost completely forgotten now: “John.”

You feel warm liquid trickle down your neck, indicating the skin had now been broken. More screams permeated your consciousness, bringing you back to the present. Looking up at Colby, who is now white as a sheet, you urge them to run. You make the correct assumption that they can at the very least see the blade at your throat. You’re not sure how much they can see but you aren’t taking any chances.

“I won’t leave you! Not after everything you’ve done for us!”

“Please, Colby. Take them and go. I’ll be right behind you,” you said, trying to sound calm and brave. Truth be known, you hadn’t been so afraid since before your death, but you couldn’t let them know that. Finally listening to you, Colby takes Sam and Kat’s hands and runs out of the house with them.

Letting out a sigh of relief you turn back to John, “why- what happened? Why are you here?”

Instead though, the being behind you speaks, “ye mean… ye didn’t hear… we lost… ye were right… shoulda listened to ya… they brought us here… to rot… shoulda just… hanged us wit’ our dignity…”

With this, your suspicions are confirmed. This being- no, this man behind you, is Captain Flint. Instead of being fearful though, you grow angry. So angry you can no longer even bring yourself to ask what happened to John’s leg. Your rage that had been building for over 300 years had finally boiled over. At Flint, Vane, Charleston, even John. Why? Why had they done that to you? You had been nothing but loyal to them. You did anything and everything Flint asked of you, going so far as to keep his stupid fucking secret from the crew! How many brothers had you lost because of them? How many lives were on your hands because of them? All you know is it was so many you still can’t wash off all the blood.

As your rage grows, so does your spirit energy. Something you came to realize you could still manipulate after returning to the physical world. Though instead of controlling it, your anger causes it to grow at a rate you had never experienced. Everything from furniture to photos start violently shaking as doors and cabinets slam open and shut.

“(Y/N)!!”

Whipping your head to your left, you see Colby.

“Colby… Ye silly scallywag… What on Earth are ye doing back here? I could hurt ye…” You think to yourself upon seeing him. But it’s too late, your power has already reached a cataclysmic point of seemingly no return. With the last bit of control you can muster, you send Colby flying back out of the house and slam the door shut.

As soon as the door slams to a close a scream rips from your throat and the last thing you see before blacking out is John reaching for you. You barely hear him say, “I’m sorry,” before your vision fades.

When you come back to you find yourself lying in bed. At home. But how? The last thing you remember is- oh… John. But what happened?

Climbing out of bed you see that you still have your clothes on from before. Though now for some reason your shirt has blood stains all over the collar. Stumbling your way into the living room you’re greeted with a gut wrenching sight. Kat in Sam’s arms, the both of them with tears streaming down their faces, and Colby sitting silently on the couch staring blankly ahead. You step out further and they are alerted to your presence. Kat quickly flings herself at you, sobbing all the while about how scared they were to find you “like that”. Sam gently tugs her away so Colby can step forward and take you in his arms. He squeezes like you’re going to disappear again.

“Guys… what happened back there?” You hesitantly ask them, having taken notice of the blood stained towels in the trash.

“We were so scared. We just… heard you scream and then bangingandthislightand-“ you cut Colby off as he begins speaking faster and faster. Assuming your role of group mom, you sit everyone on the couch so they can explain what happened. To make a long story short, apparently you accidentally blew the house up, sending the spirits over at the same time. When they found you you had been covered in wooden boards and debris, dirty but otherwise unharmed. Though they were highly alarmed to see blood coming from your nose, ears, and eyes. Which would explain your shirt and the towels. You calmly explain to them that there’s nothing to worry about, that just tends to happen when you overexert yourself. Though you have to contain your laughter at the bewildered looks you get from that comment.

You do ask them how they managed to get out of there without getting the attention of the authorities. You chuckle, shaking your head thinking to yourself, “ah, sink me… can’t take these scallywags anywhere,” as they tell you about grabbing you from the debris and high tailing it out of there before anyone had time to show up. “Well… they’d make decent pirates at least.”

You all take some time to decompress together in the living room before branching off to your respective rooms. Walking into your shared room with Colby you announce that you’re going to wash off all the dust and dirt from that house. You can practically feel him staring a hole in your back and you can’t decide whether it’s out of concern or intrigue. You decide to act on the latter and pull your shirt over your head as you walk into the bathroom, playfully tossing it behind you into the bedroom. Behind you you hear an excited little “Ooo!” followed by the pattering of footsteps. He rounds the corner as you’re shimmying out of your pants and turning the water on.

“So… does that shower have enough room for two?” You giggle, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hm… I suppose it could… if only someone could help me out of the rest of my clothes.” You grin back at him sending him a wink. Turning back around you lift your hair up for him and almost immediately feel his gentle fingers on your spine. Letting out a soft sigh, you feel the clasp of your top come off. The feeling of his lips on your neck and his hands sliding down to your waistband takes over your senses and suddenly there’s only Colby. He’s all you can see, hear, feel. He’s the only thing you crave. Regaining just enough control you step under the warm water and gesture for Colby to follow you.

Since meeting Colby he’s become your happiness. Your entire world. And two years later he proves that you’re his world too. When he takes you to Nassau, back to your home, and proposes to you in the very fort where you spent most of your previous life.

The year following the beautiful proposal, you have your wedding. As Colby puts it, “One fit for a Pirate Queen.” The two of you spend the rest of your life together in bliss, hunting ghosts and chasing happiness.

*Thank you all SO SO MUCH for sticking with me through the Protect You series!! I’m so sorry for the long wait, as a reader I know how frustrating that can be, so I really appreciate you guys!!

**Tags:

@iwantsleepplz

@katie-tibo

@trashmouthsahra

@astropotato5

@givemethemaknaes16

@starsaroundmyscxrss

@somerandomrants

@chewisophogus

@kay-811

[mysteryiousskin]

MORE HALLOWEEN INSPO SINCE IT DIDNT LET ME PUT ANY NEW PICS IN THE FIRST

Okay.. so hear me out- this costume seems super hard to recreate I’m gonna be honest, but between Amazon and Etsy the crown isn’t hard to find (you could also make it pretty easy with some cardboard, wire, hot glue and a dream.) I also so on Amazon a necklace that looked pretty similar it was just red but if you paint it you’d be good! I’d say go for some colored contacts too if you can, a black skirt, and her bracelet probably aren’t hard to find something similar too on Amazon tbh, her sleeves seem easy enough too, I don’t know the name of them to look them up on Amazon but if you wanted to recreate them I think the easiest and most accurate way would be to get one of those tie around cardigans with the lowly sleeves (or shirt) cute the sleeves off and attach them to some sort of elastic band with hot glue and if you really want it to be accurate if you can find some sort of bangle that’ll fit on your arm do itttt

PADME AND ANAKIN!!!

Now for padme there is so many costumes to choose from but I just chose this because it’s the most affordable while still being recognizable and it’s also relatively easy to recreate if you don’t just wanna buy the costume off of Amazon,(speaking of this tho if you want links for other padme costumes or reference photos for those etc. just lmk!) first off, a white long sleeved t-shirt, the metal part I was also conflicted on with the first but I think this is easier bc you could lowkey just iron on a vinyl part or go with that bangle option which may or may not work idk, the belt/holster should be pretty easy to find on Amazon since you really only need to look for a white one, for the pants some white leggings are literally it and if you wanna make it a lil extra a skirt and you could even look for a cropped top instead, for Anakin there is literally so many costumes you can find on Amazon for cheap along with sabers, though I can’t guarantee the quality, another option for Anakin that I saw two girls do was one of them had a black skirt, a black cape/cloak, a leather glove and a saber again Amazon you could find that very cheap or target tbh

I might’ve done this last year but this is great as a duo or a stand alone Helen also definitely has more options for good outfits (I would def put her options over Julie)

In this pic for Helen you need some glasses (you can find on Amazon or at target maybe tj max if you have one near you) a black skirt (Amazon is prob the best option) a sleeveless button up (again probably Amazon would be the easiest for this, if you can’t find one then cutting the sleeves off of a regular button up might b your only option 🤷🏻‍♀️) for Julie black overalls and a purple tank top (Amazon again is probably the cheapest) for the tank top I think lilac might be a harder color to find but literally any mall would prob have it but that’s prob more expensive than Amazon would be also the overalls are normally harder to find less expensive but if u can’t find cheap ones on Amazon mayb old navy? The necklace should be pretty easy to find on Amazon too but depending on how accurate you want it then it might be harder to find, the sunglasses same as Helen

Kesha! For tights and a good band tee I’d look on hot topic they’re normally pretty cheap and they always have a sale of some sort, the shades are easy to find on Amazon and I’d def put on a shit load of glitter, a fake nose piercing you don’t have one already is easy to find on Amazon but they normally come in packs, I’m gonna add more of what I’d do to accessorize this too which is some feather in the hair, some hair tinsel, kandi bracelets or just rubber bracelets, I’d def crimp the hair too, colorful hair extensions and again all of that I’ve found on Amazon usally for 11 dollars or under depending on how many

Another Natalie Portman costume :O the heels you could find on dolls kill and I’m pretty sure you can find the actual costume too, a pink bob wig you can find at spirit Halloween or Amazon although I would only get anything under 20 dollars the wig in the movie is a pretty cheap quality anyways so there’s no use in trying to find a better quality one tbh (I think spirit halloweens wigs are sometimes 20 and I wouldn’t pay for that if you can find something cheaper on Amazon when the spirit Halloween ones are such low quality)

This costume is so unbelievably easy and I love it you just need the dress, gloves, headphones, tiara, and the sunglasses most of which you can find at target/Walmart or Amazon for cheap👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

I already know this costume or costumes are going to be rlly big this year but I’m super in love with the idea of seeing so many peoples takes on it! Spirit Halloween I think has the cowgirl outfit or you could get some iron on stars from Amazon, a denim button up, flared jeans, cowgirl hat and a bandanna I don’t know how easy it’d be to find all of those in pink but I’m sure you could get them in white and dye them pink with some like rit dye (my idea for a Maddy Perez costume too if you don’t want to waste sm money on her actual set or try super hard to find something like it in colors that have a 20% chance of just oooking similarrr) but anyway if you wanna go less basic there’s just so many good Barbie looks for this and even ken ones too! I don’t know if spirit is selling a ken costume but I’d def check and if not it should be easy enough to find a black cowboy costume

Hear me out-

Okay so another difficult one I KNOW but you could def buy a replica of the trap (though that might be a little to expensive) or try to make it yourself (now hear me out I know that sounds like a lot) I know one girl on TikTok who made a prop one out of cardboard! I definitely think if your more crafty that could be a fun project now as much as I’m not sure how easy that’d be if your not super into getting all the detail to it I think you could easily make a passable one!

Now for coraline! I like what the girl in the costume is doing where instead of the raincoat it’s a normal jacket it’s probably cheaper and better quality since if you get a costume one I’m sure that’s not great quality, the bob looks super cheap and I’d more recommend getting a 20 dollar one from Amazon, it’s gonna be cheap too but not nearly as bad as that (not dissing the girl I just think the super cheap wigs are sooo inconvenient I’d rather spend 20+ on a wig that get one that might be almost that expensive but sheds like crazy and tangles) the clip you could probably find on Amazon or maybe hot topic! Another idea I have for this costume is getting a star shirt like she has in the movie, I’d also suggest wearing either a key or the one green planchette-like thing she has in the movie so your more recognizable and overall I think it’s just a cute touch (I also know I’ve def seen those in a matching coraline best friends necklace set on the hot topic website although they may no longer be selling them)

Alice! This is so simple and I love it bc once ppl realize who you are I think it’s super fun and like a clever idea

The beehive hair is super easy to do on your own if you don’t know how to do it already yt has some good tutorials! I haven’t ever used a “bump-it” either but those are supposed to help create on of those so if you don’t want to put in as much work or you can’t figure it out maybe buy one of those? I’m sure they have wife with it too but I’m not so sure those are good quality (or what I call “passable”) but you be your own judge on that! I think cider probably has some good dresses for this costume (if you’ve never used cider just know to size up atleast one size tho I’d say two if you can)

[rbb-travels-of-the-cube]

*magics a properly sized life vest onto Blue Moon* that should keep you afloat at least. Now Blue Moon, buddy I need you to calm down. You are going to be okay.

A light blue and orange life vest appears on Blue Moon. The large bot flinching slightly before relaxing and clutching onto the object instead. Looking back to the cube with a hiss.

"The water disappears into vast beond! It could sweep me away until I'm gone!"

"um I don't you're going to disappear?"

Blue Moon's head snapped towards the new voice. A small sun-like animatronic froze under his gaze. He wore a bandana tied up tightly between his rays. Wearing a standard off-white blouse. He wore leather bracers. The strings that tied them together hanging loosely. He looks like he had standard jeans on. Although they were decorated with stripes. A heavy belt held them up. A gun in its holster.

"Good lordy! You're quick when you want to be!"

The staring contest between the assumed Sun of the universe and Blue Moon broke at the interruption. Blue Moon clutching to the mass as it swayed gently as Captain Eclipse made his way back on board. Absolutely drenched and his hat in hand. He promptly put it back on with a slight adjustment. The poor feather limping off to the side as he walked up to the two.

"So! I'm not one ta like bringing up bad news but I got ta ask ya some questions fella. I swear I saw you just appear above the water before ya started sinking. And I can't quite let you just be on the ship for freebies either."

Blue Moon growls slightly. But given how he was visibly shaking there wasn't much he was going to do to retaliate. He looked around momentarily taking in the sight of the ship.

It was a relatively small ship. The proper name would be a schooner. Big enough that it definitely needed more than two people to properly run it. The ship had a deep midnight blue for the hull. The sales were cast in a brilliant orange and black. Seemingly made to match the captain of the ship. It wasn't until there was a gentle Pat on Blue Moon's leg that he came back from his wandering.

The Sun looked nervous. Swing side to side for a moment. Finally seeming to straighten out his blouse and clear his throat.

"Eclipse wants to know what you can do to help on the ship. We also would like to know how you ended up in the water. Eclipse, his eyes these days aren't.. good."

"I can see just fine Sunny cup!"

"I don't think he just appeared out of!-"

"I came from a different world, a different place. I appeared so suddenly because I teleport from place to place"

". . . Oh."

"Ha!"

"Be quiet old man!"

"Hehehe. Anyways. What can you do on the ship my lad. You don't seem like the sea fairing type. I'll be fine teaching you a couple tricks, but you got to pay some~how!"

Blue Moon seemed to ponder for a minute. Looking up every once in a while to stare off and to the infinite ocean. Finally he seemed to come up with an idea. Looking downwards towards Captain Eclipse and Sun.

"there's not much I will do with the water or beasts. But I can control the wind to my whims and make it do as I please."

[replica-weapons]

Tips To Shop For Replica Gun Accessories

When buying the right accessories for your replica, there are several things to be sure of. The appropriate gun accessories online Australia may take your experience with imitation guns to the next level. This is regardless of your background as a collector. No matter whether you are an enthusiast or a historical reenactor. They may range from period-correct equipment to contemporary comforts. 

Historical Rigidity

The most important consideration when purchasing gun accessories online Australia is historical authenticity. Selecting accessories that accurately reflect the era you're portraying is crucial. You must consider whether you're dressing as a particular military unit or historical period. This covers everything. It also includes cleaning supplies. It also provides ammo pouches and holsters. Pay attention to details like building techniques and marks for a genuine appearance and feel.

Always Check The Durability Of Your Purchase

Ensure that your replica gun accessories are sturdy. Make a quality craftsmanship and material investment to ensure your items survive wear and tear. Also, make sure they will work properly when used and displayed. Genuine leather should be used to make leather items.  There are several other options in the market. These can help you give strength to your guns. The guns are old and must be kept with proper maintenance and hence you must shop for the right accessories to keep them safe. 

Keep Compatibility In Mind

Make sure your selected replica gun accessories are compatible. They must fit adequately and precisely with your guns. Before completing your order, ensure all mounting systems are proper. Also, check that the dimensions and connection locations are compatible with your handgun. You can also contact the manufacturer and ask about the details. He will make you understand the features and also help you in shopping for the right product. 

Usability

The next most important thing is the usability. Ensure that it works if you are planning to use it. Functionality is just as important as historical authenticity. Think about using your replica gun accessories for practical shooting. These can be used for reenactments or shows. Look for features like quick-release buckles. Also, look for modular designs. You can also check out the adjustable straps that improve convenience and usage. You must also keep in mind the laws that are connected with buying these accessories. It will help you use the guns without getting into some trouble. 

Reviews and Reputation

Huge enthusiasts of these guns are collectors who showcase replica firearms as showpieces on walls and other surfaces. A replica rifle could draw in someone else, while a reproduction Western revolver might draw in a collector. They are significantly less expensive than real guns and are very easily accessible. Replica weapons appeal to collectors, historians, and those curious about the history of historical or current weaponry.

As the desire for guns increases, people become more aware of how to handle, store, and conserve them. Understanding the laws that govern the sale and usage of weapons throughout most of the world is crucial. If you violate any laws or are ignorant of them, you might run into many issues.

Examine the reputation and customer evaluations before buying. To determine if a brand is dependable, look for reviews on its general satisfaction. You can also look for customer service and product quality. Websites and social media pages devoted to imitation gun accessories are excellent sources of knowledge. They also help you to understand the viewpoints of other fans.

Spending Plan

Plan a budget. This is the amount that you want to spend to buy the accessories. You just need to understand that they don't have to be expensive. Determine a reasonable spending limit based on your requirements and objectives. The next step is to compare prices to find the best deal. Look for discounts and promotions. This will help you in buying the accessories and not to extend your spending limit. 

Conclusion 

When purchasing gun accessories online Australia, it's essential to consider several important variables. You must understand the importance of shopping for the right products. Several factors will help you enjoy your purchase. Read and research about them. Also, always remember to shop for accessories from a reputable place only. You will not get the right products if you order from any other random site.

[jasminesmilitaryshop-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: OT2 Compact IWB Holster Left-Hand Inside Waistband Holster BLK N8 Tactical NEW.

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

Danny had wanted some distance between him and his parents. Their relationship was fine, they weren't going to vivisect him or anything, they were just really overbearing when they found out about the phantom stuff. He decided he wanted to move out and there aren't many cities with enough ambient ectoplasm for him to stay healthy so Gotham it was. The rogues weren't that much of an issue after spending years dealing with the ghosts and their antics, really the Joker or scarecrow weren't much worse than skulker at this point.

He'd tried college, for a bit, but it just wasn't for him. Thats when he saw an old storefront on sale and decided to try and make the best of it. How hard could it be to make candy? It's just sugar?

It was hard to make candy.

The first couple dozen batches were all ruined. Too hot, not hot enough, too much flavouring, not enough flavouring, food dye, cooled too quickly, worked too slow, burned his hands (a little icy breath helped there) but finally he got a halfway decent bag of candy. Proud of himself and the lemon drops he had made he grabbed one and ate it. He suddenly felt a boost of energy, beyond the normal sugar. Wait...

Oh no, he ecto-contaminated the candies. Great, now he can't sell these and has to start all over! He got better sleep than this during his heroing days. He'll just keep this bag for himself. Or in case any other ghosts show up, but what's the chance of that?

Danny was staring. He was probably being rude but he was staring so hard. His shop had been decently successful, he got the hang of making candies and not ecto-contaminating them. The customers didn't seem to notice anything at least. But, this one might. Danny was still staring as he came up to the counter with two bags of cherry flavoured candy.

His ghost sense was going crazy but that was a normal person? Halfa? Ghost in disguise?

"Hello, just these two," he said. Right, customer, store.

"alright! That will be 8 dollars total." Don't seem to weird, don't want to scare him off. He handed over the appropriate bills and Danny counted them quickly. While the receipt was printing he remembered his bag of ecto candies. "And a bonus, for a new customer!" He reached below the counter and pulled out his snack bag. Quickly scooping out a few and putting them into a small bag.

"These are perfectly fine to eat, but maybe don't share them, they might hurt others."

The customer's eyes narrowed at that. His hand twitched for his concealed carry holster. "What's that supposed to mean, trying to poison me?" Great going Danny, you're scaring him away.

"Not at all! This is my personal snacking bag, it's just not fit for those who, ehm, aren't like us. Ya know?" He let his eyes flash green for only a second before he blinked and they were green again.

The customer seemed stunned at that, hand still inside his leather jacket, inches away from his gun. Danny had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that.

"Here, I'll try one myself, they aren't poisoned or anything." He opened the bags drawstring and grabbed one of the candied, popping it in his mouth and chewing. He still enjoyed that rush of energy and closed his eyes to feel his core sing with joy, as it were.

"Riiiight, if I drop dead I'm putting it in my will to have your store searched."

"And I will forever be haunted by your memory. Hopefully literally." He winked. He couldn't tell if this guy was a ghost in disguise or just didn't realize they were super ecto contaminated but it's not his job to break the news. Even if he technically does have the throne right now.

"Welp! Thanks for shopping at Zombie Sweets. I hope to see you return. Next customer please." He can't wait to tell Sam and Tucker about this.

Danny opens a candy shop in Gotham and suddenly Jason has a sweet tooth for the slightly ecto infused candy that Danny makes and sells. Specifically the lollipops since they have the most ectoplasm

I have never seen a candy shop au before but I’m in love with it. I feel like only a small section of the candy would be ecto-infused tho, he doesn’t want to poison his non-ghostly customers, but he does also want to get some ghostly customers.

Maybe he even has some candy made with Blood Blossoms, with a sign saying “NORMAL HUMANS ONLY | IT WILL POISON YOU OTHERWISE” with a similar sign under the ecto candy section, saying “DEAD AND DEAD ADJACENT ONLY.”

Jason thought the sign was a joke at first, the person at the cash register-who was apparently also the owner-said it was okay for him to have. It’s not like the owner could just tell that he died before. Did being undead even count as “dead adjacent?”

Well, apparently the owner could tell and Jason was dead adjacent, because when Steph tried it she almost died. Jason was fine though, the candy even tasted great! Cass also loved the candy.

And now everyone in his family wants the candy, for more reasons than one.

[sexintheatx-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Blazin Roxx Womens Vanessa Concealed Carry Satchel.

[hamadpra]

$20.0 Only! ~ Mystery Ranch Quick Draw Rangefinder Holster Foliage, Leather Military Pouches, Military Surplus Bags and Pouches, Original Militaria Pouches, Military Surplus Magazine Pouches, New Militaria Pouches, Military Ammo Pouches, Small Military Pouches, Military Surplus Pouch, Military Pouches For Sale, Military Surplus Ammo Pouches BUY HERE!

[mtjapblogger]

Dang...I really liked this case too 😭

Well, all good things must end, just hopefully later than sooner! The leather case I had on my Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 3 broke when I pulled it out of my holster. I’m not sure how this happened considering the phone was in a cushioned microfiber-lined holster that is softer than most pockets. My poor case… This is a case that can cost around $50 or more, I got lucky and found it on sale for $10!…

[cobragunskin]

If you've ever considered owning a firearm for personal protection or as part of your hobby, then you've probably heard about magazine holsters. These small pieces of equipment are designed to make it easier and safer to carry extra ammunition while on the go 

Read More : https://medium.com/@cobragunskin1/all-you-need-to-know-about-magazine-holsters-7509581cb08a

[jaminleather]

Welcome Spring Sale! ⭐Leather Wallet Holster #WH354⭐ $29.99 🛒Shop Now: https://shop.jaminleather.com/leather-wallet-holster.html

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Can you write something where a Supervillain was an absolute jerk to hero, but when she finds him, tortured, sick, and left to die, she helps him anyway?

Thank you!!!

Sure thing! Sorry this took a while. I had a million ideas for this and had to focus in on one.

Dear Diary

Warnings: fevers, delirium, left to die, betrayed, Stockholm Syndrome (implied, not directly stated), fungal infection, exposed bone, broken ribs and nose, starvation, implied neglect, bathing, stripping of clothes (non-sexual), blood, crying

~

Hero sat down at her desk, illuminated by a small lamp and pulled out her worn, leather notebook. She opened the first thirty pages to an empty one, taking brief notes of the way the pages were clearly, neatly filled out top to bottom.

Then, she took her pen- an object of sentiment, nearly as old as her, and gifted to her by her late grandfather- and wrote, as neat as the previous pahlges, in her cursive sign:

Dear Diary,

Then she stopped writing and glanced over at the sleeping figure in the nearby bed. His brown hair tousled, but neat. Old injuries securely bound by more bandages than Hero cared to admit. His once flushed and feverish skin, now placid and evenly moist, was completely neutral with no signs of that agony that brought screams that still haunted Hero at night.

Smiling, she changed her writing to a more easy going print and started writing.

I apologize for not writing recently. It's been so hectic that I think I need a vacation. So, before I tire my hand out complaining, let me tell you about the past couple weeks...

Two weeks ago:

Hero drove smoothly over the recently tarred road. It was night and the sky was absolutely glamorous with stars and constellations of all sorts of celestial bodies. She sighed, contentedly, and aimlessly tapped her fingers against the black steering wheel. She hummed no song in particular as cheery eyes scanned the long, expansive track in front of her.

Until suddenly, the monotonous road was broken by a Ford stranded across the center. Thankfully seeing it immediately, Hero flashed the lights on top of her patrol car, and stepped out with her gun in hand.

A F250, manual with only two seats, but it was empty. Hero raised her gun again and stalked to the other side. Nothing, just an eerie, sporadic vehicle in the middle of a county road.

She whisked open the door. The acrid smell of tobacco and liquor plummeted into her nose and she grimaced. But, like the exterior of the whole truck, there was nothing in the cab.

"Hmm." Hero shrugged, and slammed the door shut, slightly annoyed. She was about to call it in when she heard a tiny, pained whimper.

She tensed, bringing her gun back up again, and spun around. Nothing. Not even a deer or a racoon.

Then, the whimper sounded again.

"Who's there?" Hero asked, but she was starting to think it was just a young fawn or a toad or something.

But it sounded so human.

"Help."

The plea, the breathless plea, sounded the still air. Hero, now completely able to locate it, bounded to the bed of the truck and looked in.

To find a man, bloodied and bruised, with sweat glistening across his dirtied face. He seemed to be conscious- at least awake enough to call for help, as weak the call was- but his eyes were half-lidded and dazed. Blood, still fresh, streamed from a very broken nose.

"Sir?" Hero asked, lowering her gun and putting it in the holster.

The man's eyes opened slightly and he looked at Hero with wonder. A small smile formed on parched, ruined lips. Tears seemed to flood his eyes and he started to cry.

Baffled, Hero climbed into the truck and gathered the man into her arms, mindful not to hurt his neck or spine.

"Hey buddy," Hero cooed, concern evident in her voice. "Are you okay?" No, obviously.

"She-she left me," Supervillain rasped. "She left me here." He started to sob, clawing at Hero's shirt. "Villain left me."

Wait Villain? The stuck-up, obnoxious, feminine bastard that acted as if the world bowed down to her? Hero looked down at the shivering man. Villain, as arrogant as she was, wouldn't hurt a person to this grave extent, unless...

Unless it was...

"Supervillain?" Hero asked. The man turned his head and only then did Hero recognize the sharpness of his jaw and those dashingly handsome golden brown eyes. He let out a hoarse whine and pressed his face back into Hero's leg, chest rattling with broken ribs and mucus.

It was him.

Hero pushed the man off her lap and scowled. He didn’t deserve comfort, or love. Heck, he deserved whatever catastrophe Villain wreaked upon him.

But, after that cruel shove, Supervillain started to scream from the pain of both his horrific injuries and the fresh feeling of betrayal again. He curled his battered form into himself and started a nonstop crying session.

Feeling awfully guilty, Hero laid her hand on his hot shoulder and sighed. She took it back, no matter how mean or terrible a person is, they didn't deserve this.

Before Hero knew it, Supervillain was asleep in the back of her car. As she drove home, night shift forgotten, she thought of her plan. He needed a bath to wash the injuries out and to see the full extent of them. And then he probably needed stitches and a few bones set.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at the limp body. He was breathing, but very subtlety. If it wasn't for the periodic moan or a distressed cry here and there, one might've mistaken him for dead.

Hero shook her shoulders out and looked back at the road, slightly paranoid that she would stumble across another hazardly placed truck. Specifically a manual F250 owned by a certain woman named Villain.

But of course, she didn't. She arrived at home safe and sound, turned off her car, and gathered the now unconscious supervillain in her arms.

"Okay bud," she whispered, hauling him in a bridal carry as she made it to the door. If he wasn't so starved and lightweight, he would've been a big problem to lift.

She opened the door, then immediately in a sudden instinctual rush to hurry, locked the door. She took Supervillain to her bedroom and laid him across the floor. Then, she took off his shirt to reveal a whole menu of wounds.

He had, across both his sides, large purple- nearly black- bruises around his ribcage. They greened at the edges, leading to his torso where cuts and puncture wounds made up a revolting soup. His broken ribs barely had anything in the terms of flesh or muscles on them. Only skin.

His abdomen was sunken in, remnants of days without food, revealing high, pointed hip bones. Hero winced, running a finger lightly across a particular large cut. It was so deep that it revealed the ivory bone beneath. Supervillain, even in his unconscious state, stiffened and whimper pathetically.

Sleep was not an escape from the pain.

Hero stripped the rest of his clothes off. Even his legs and lower body were covered in those red and purple marks. She picked him up again and carried him to the bathtub where she delicately showered the dirt and grime out of infected wounds and off his face.

When it was over, Hero was dumbfoundly shocked at the lack of color in his ghostly face. He didn't wake throughout the process; he was throughly exhausted and sick. Fever raged behind those closed eyelids, appearing in his hot breaths and lolling head. Hero put some old shorts of her's that she bought at a garage sale a couple months ago. They were way too big, but maybe a bit of foreboding told her that they may be necessary one day.

Then she scooped him back up and carried him to her room, laying him on top of the bed, and got to work on stitching and bandaging the wounds.

Supervillain stirred when the needle accidentally pricked a bruise. The second his eyes opened, he screamed and tried to thrash away.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" He yelled. "Villain? Villain! Help me, please!" He started to sob, pressing his cheek into the pillow. "Please... V-vill...ain."

"Shh, shh," Hero laid a hand on his shoulder. He tensed and made a blubbering sound. "You're safe, okay?"

"No, no... I-i want Villain," he sniffled, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. "I-i need her."

Hero felt her heartbreak at the desperation taut in Supervillain's voice. She gently placed her hand on his forehead in an attempt to comfort and check his fever. He was hot, super-duper hot.

Supervillain pulled away from the touch, watching her with wary eyes. Hero gave a small smile and stepped away. He didn't trust her and her presence might freak him out more. So she stepped away and went to her desk, back facing him.

After a while, his sniffles ceased. Hero took the risk and glanced at him to find him asleep. She sighed, the poor guy was so sick and hurt and tired...

Hero walked back over and went to work again. She applied some antibiotic ointment on some of the more severe wounds, hoping the infection wasn't too deep.

She was about to get to work on tending to his legs, when something in his hair caught her eye. It was a tuff.

Curious, she went over and gently pulled on it to find that it just fell out. A feeling of nausea rose in her throat as more and more hair fell loose. Crunching her brows together, she cleared a hole spot on his scalp to reveal reddened, puffy and dry skin.

A fungal infection. She recognized this from when she took zoology classes in high school. They went on a field trip and the staff gratefully allowed them into the vet area.

Hero rummaged through her medical supplies and found an antifungal cream for athlete's foot. She hesitated, not knowing if something for feet would be good for scalp.

But it was all she had, and something was better than nothing.

So she spread the cream on Supervillain's head, watching as the rose colored flesh glistened with newfound moisture.

Then, she went back to work on stitching and cleaning the wounds of his lower body.

When that long feat was done, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen peas. She wrapped it in a towel and placed it on Supervillain's forehead. Even unconscious, he whimpered and relaxed into the new, relieving sensation.

Hero started to pace. As the minutes ticked by, his breaths seemed to get shallower and shallower and then would increase in a sudden gasp. Periodically, his eyes would flutter open, but only for a moment before he passed out again.

She ended up sitting on the other side of her bed, far away enough to not scare him if he ever regained consciousness enough to be aware of her, but close enough to monitor him.

Hero felt herself dozing as she watched Supervillain's chest rise and fall, but suddenly he awoke fully. She started backwards, then froze. Maybe he would fall asleep again...

But he stared crying, mucus filled lungs heaving. Then he started sobbing, then wailing.

"Villain!" He cried, loudly. "I-i need you." He pulled his legs into himself and Hero did nothing to stop it- too petrified about him hurting himself if he got too spooked.

"Please," he mumbled. "Please, please, please. Don't leave me. Leave me... please no. I don't want you to, I love you please."

Hero's heart broke at that.

Supervillain went silent, apart from nonstop screams of fear and incoherent begging. It got to the point where Hero had to roll him over and gather him into her chest.

"Hey, shh, shh," she cooed, rubbing his back. "It'll be okay. It'll all be okay. Deep breaths... that's it. Breathe in, breathe out. Good job."

Supervillain calmed down and clutched at Hero's shirt. He buried himself into her and fell back asleep.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter One)

Summary: Out of options, (Y/N) hires a Mandalorian for a quick job but ends up becoming attached to him and his strange little green friend.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One The Job

“I wouldn’t go and bother the Mandalorian if I were you, darlin’, he’s crankier than a bantha in heat.”

(Y/N) offered the grizzled old mechanic a small shrug and continued on her way to the weathered Razor Crest at the end of the docking bay, barely making out his mumbled ‘suit yourself’ as she did. If it were any other situation she’d probably heed the old man’s warning and steer clear of the Mandalorian, but in this instance, the unusual stranger was her only hope. Courage over fear, she thought to herself, taking small comfort in her old childhood mantra as she neared the lowered ramp of the ship.

“Hello?” (Y/N) called out. “Is anyone in there?”

“What do you want?”

She jumped and quickly turned around to see the Mandalorian standing before her, his beskar-clad body visibly tense as one hand rested on the blaster strapped to his hip. The shock of his sudden appearance soon gave way to stunned awe; in all her travels, she’d never seen a Mandalorian as intimidating as the one currently staring her down. “Hello there. I was hoping to…well, I wanted to hire you for a job.”

“I’m not looking for any jobs right now.” The Mandalorian gruffly replied, brushing past her to lift a supply box from the ground. “You should try the local cantina; I’m sure someone there could use the work.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed and she hurried to follow him onto his ship. “I spent all morning down there and everyone I talked to didn’t want anything to do with me. Not that I blame them, though, I’ve only been on this planet for a week…and the job I’m offering isn’t exactly an easy one…and I only have three hundred credits to-” She broke off when she realized he was staring at her. “What?”

He shook his head, setting the box down before heading back down the ramp. “You want a bit of free advice? A client’s supposed to make a job sound enticing. Maybe you’ll have better luck in the next town over, it’s only a couple of hours away on speeder bike and that’ll give you plenty of time to work on your sales pitch.”

Recognizing the sarcasm in the Mandalorian’s modulated voice, (Y/N)’s blood began to boil. “I thought that Mandalorians were supposed to help those in need, not ridicule and make fun of them.” He stopped dead in his tracks, but at that point (Y/N) didn’t care. All she could think of was getting away from the man as soon as possible. “But I guess I’m just naïve, believing in such outlandish fairy tales.” She stormed down the ship’s ramp and past the Mandalorian without giving him a second glance, blinking away her angry tears as she struggled to formulate a new plan.

“Wait!”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to see the Mandalorian hurrying after her but she continued walking away. “Why, so I can let a nerf herder like you insult me some more? No thanks.”

“Udesii! Wait, just wait a sec…!” He quickly caught up to her and blocked her path, his hands raised to halt her. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me back there. Tell me what the job is and then I’ll decide.”

Still wary of him, (Y/N) exhaled through her nose before answering. “I need someone to steal my possessions back…and I need help ridding this planet of the Black Sun once and for all.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted to the side in obvious shock. “The Black Sun crime syndicate? They’re still in operation around these parts?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Since the fall of the Empire, there’s been rumors that some crime syndicates have turned to piracy to stay afloat and under the radar of the New Republic. From what I got out of the locals, the Black Sun conducts raids on their homesteads and whenever they’re feeling particularly bold, occasionally hijack small ships from docking bays. The moment I landed here to refuel, I was ambushed; they took my blaster before I could defend myself and kicked my ass before stealing my ship and leaving me nearly unconscious on the floor.” She swallowed thickly, remembering the grief-stricken faces of the townsfolk she’d spoken to that week. “According to the locals, it’s extremely rare that someone survives an encounter with the Black Sun.” Crossing her arms over her chest, (Y/N) stared down the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet. “These people have suffered more than anyone should, first under the Empire and now the Black Sun, and I can’t just leave this planet knowing that their suffering will only continue. The two of us working together should be enough to take them down and get my things back; if you turn the job down, though, then I’ll just get myself a blaster and do it myself.”

“That’s a good way of getting yourself killed.” He blocked her path again as she attempted to move around him. “This means that much to you?” There wasn’t any scorn in his tone or even any judgement, only curiosity, and the shift in his attitude was what compelled her to slowly nod her head. “Okay, then, you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, I’m gonna need you to tell me everything you’ve learned about the Black Sun and their operations on this planet…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, the sun was beginning to set as (Y/N) anxiously watched the Mandalorian arm himself for the impending night mission. They’d spent the afternoon formulating a plan to get her possessions back and take down the Black Sun and while he was confident that it would work, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry as the memory of her attack played in her mind. The Black Sun operatives had been brutal and ruthless during their hijacking, and she had no problem believing that they could’ve easily done far worse to her if they’d truly wanted to. If all the stories are true then a deadly Mandalorian warrior shouldn’t have any problem taking them on, she reminded herself, the thought succeeding in temporarily soothing her nerves.

An affectionate coo pulled (Y/N) out of her silent ruminations, and she glanced down to see the small green child holding a silver sphere out to her as he continued his indistinguishable babbling. “That’s a…that’s a really pretty toy you’ve got there.” She gave the child a small smile but frowned when he showed no signs of stopping. “Um…”

“He wants you to roll it.” When (Y/N) raised a questioning brow at the Mandalorian, he shrugged his shoulders. “He likes to chase after it sometimes.”

“Okay, then.” Carefully lowering herself to the ground, she gently took the sphere from the child’s tiny green hand and rolled it down the length of the ship, stifling a giggle as she watched him chase after it. “The little guy’s pretty fast, isn’t he?”

The Mandalorian snorted. “Fast and up to no good.”

To say that (Y/N) had been surprised to learn that the Mandalorian was caring for a child would be an understatement; it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to gape when the man had introduced her to the wrinkled green child and told her that she’d be watching him for part of the evening while he completed the first half of the mission. She wasn’t exactly the greatest when it came to interacting with children; it wasn’t because she disliked them or anything, but rather because she’d never been around many children before. Maybe things will be different with this little one, she thought to herself as she watched the child waddle back to her with his toy clutched in his hand.

“You sure you’ll be able to fly this thing? A Razor Crest takes some getting used to…”

(Y/N) rolled the sphere again before straightening and giving the Mandalorian a confident nod. “It’s an antique, all right, but lucky for you, I learned to fly using antiquated ships just like this one. And you’re going to be okay getting into the compound by yourself?” Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew that he must’ve been giving her a pointed look from under the helmet. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’…”

He brushed past her and picked the child up off the ground before setting him down inside the ship’s sleeping compartment. “Nap time, you little womp rat. Time to get some rest before all hell breaks loose.”

Wanting to give the two some privacy, (Y/N) busied herself by cleaning up the blaster the Mandalorian had lent her in case of an emergency. Once she was finished, she fastened the holster around her waist and took a brief moment to examine it; the leather holster was well-worn, much like everything else on board the Mandalorian’s ship, but the craftsmanship was undeniably exceptional. I’d give anything to work on a challenge like this, she thought a little wistfully.

“Okay, let’s go over the plan one last time.” She looked up to see the Mandalorian standing before her and a part of her couldn’t help but marvel at how quietly he could move. “I’ll head to the compound on foot and enter just after sunset. Once I plant the bombs and have your possessions, I’ll radio you and that’s when you’ll fly in with the Crest. I’ll jet up to the ship with your things while you cover me; based on what the locals told you, they’ve got some heavy weaponry stashed in that compound and I’d rather not give them a chance to use ‘em, so it’s your job to take them out before they can. Then we’ll fly off and detonate the bombs before going into hyperspace.”

She gave him a nod. “And while you’re gone, I’ll boot up the ship’s guns and watch over the child.” The Mandalorian fastened his jet pack to his back and slung a pulse rifle over his shoulder before wordlessly turning to head down the ramp of the ship. Biting her bottom lip, she hesitated a moment before hurrying after him. “Wait!”

The Mandalorian stopped, turning towards her with his helmet tilted a little to the side. “What is it?”

“I just…I wanted to properly thank you for taking this job.” (Y/N) held out her hand to him and gave him a small smile. “And I also wanted to wish you luck.”

Several long moments went by where he only stared silently at her outstretched hand and made no move to take it. Her face flushed with embarrassment and just as she was beginning to lower her hand, the Mandalorian reached forward and firmly grasped it in his own. Surprised, her gaze met his visor and despite not being able to see his eyes, she knew that they were boring into hers. The moment they had shared ended abruptly, with the Mandalorian releasing her hand and quickly exiting the Razor Crest without so much as a backwards glance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Maker, this ship really is an antique,” (Y/N) mumbled, giving a side panel a hard smack and shaking her head in exasperation when the switches’ lights finally blinked on; the Mandalorian had only been gone for a little over a half an hour when his deep voice had come through the ship’s communication radio, much quicker than she’d anticipated; now, she was scrambling to quickly get the old ship into the air to finish the job. “Where’d he find this thing, a Tatooine junkyard?”

“I heard that.”

She smirked to herself as she flipped a couple of switches and slowly pushed a lever up, the engines immediately whirling to life. “You misunderstood me; just because something’s old and worn doesn’t mean there isn’t value to be found in it. This ship’s been through a lot, that’s true, but…” As the ship had risen far enough off the ground, (Y/N) pushed forward on the joysticks and they instantly flew through the sky. “She’s also got one of the best propulsion engines I’ve ever seen, a lot better than the ones some of the newer ships are built with.”

“I’m glad it meets your approval but I could really use an exit right now.”

“On it.” (Y/N) replied, increasing the ship’s speed as she weaved it between jagged stone spires. Emerging from the cluster of rock formations, she immediately saw the sprawling compound and the large blaster cannons that had turned towards the ship; tightly gripping the controls, (Y/N) swerved out of the way of the oncoming blaster bolts and quickly returned fire. She managed to hit one on her first pass before smoothly spinning around for another, calling out into the cockpit’s communication radio, “Okay, where are you?”

“Southwest corner!”

Adjusting her course, (Y/N) fired off another shot and hit a second blaster cannon before finally spotting the Mandalorian, who was pinned down behind an overturned land speeder and exchanging blaster fire with a handful of heavily-armed Black Sun operatives. She put the ship on autopilot before scrambling down the ladder and slamming her hand down on the nearest control panel; the ship’s side ramp began to slowly lower but she didn’t stick around to watch its progress.

Once she climbed back up the ladder, (Y/N) dropped into the pilot’s chair and buckled herself in just as the remaining blaster cannon fired and hit the Razor Crest’s left wing, causing the ship to jostle and list on impact. Another sharp jolt came from something landing hard on the lowered ramp and moments later, she could hear it being raised back up; switching back into manual control, (Y/N) yelled out, “If you’re back there then you’d better hang on!” before activating the thrusters and wrenching the joysticks to the left, steering the ship into a rapid corkscrew spin. Her stomach clenched with pent-up adrenaline and just as her vision had begun to blur from dizziness, (Y/N) squeezed the triggers and fired, grinning to herself as the red bolts destroyed the third and final blaster cannon.

(Y/N) pulled the joysticks up, smoothly exiting the turning maneuver, and began firing on the compound as they swooped over it, going so fast that she wasn’t able to see the result of her successful run. Deciding that she’d bought them enough time, she began flipping several switches in preparation for the jump to hyperspace; as she worked, she heard the Mandalorian ascend the ladder into the cockpit and move to stand behind her, and the monitor before her showed the compound exploding in a ball of fire. Neither of them said anything as the ship exited the planet’s upper atmosphere, and she could feel his eyes on the back of her neck when she pushed a lever up and launched them into hyperspace.

“Who are you?”

Furrowing her brow in confusion, (Y/N) turned the pilot’s seat around to face the Mandalorian, who was pointing his blaster pistol at her. She decided that it would be wise not to make any sudden moves, instead keeping her hands resting firmly on the arms of the seat. “Excuse me?”

“The only people who fly like that are bounty hunters and smugglers, so which one is it?”

“…I was a smuggler in the employ of the Rebellion for five years. I was honorably discharged by the New Republic shortly after the Battle of Endor and have been retired ever since.” (Y/N) reluctantly but calmly explained, and she was unsurprised when the Mandalorian’s tense demeanor didn’t change. “I’m not lying to you. If you let me go down and look through my things you retrieved, I’ll even show you some proof.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he nodded and lowered the blaster. “Thank you.”

Descending the ladder, (Y/N)’s gaze immediately landed on the familiar beat-up storage container beside the ship’s carbonite-freezing chamber. In an instant, she dropped onto the ground beside it and began rifling through its contents. Clothing? Check. Sewing kit? Check. Spare blaster? Check. But when she finally located the leather-bound book at the bottom of the container, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh of relief. Thank the Maker, I didn’t lose it, she thought to herself. The modulated sound of a throat being cleared jostled her out of her moment of calm; she opened her eyes and glanced over to see the Mandalorian leaning up against the wall of the ship, still holding his blaster. “Oh, sorry, here…” She reached into the pocket of one of her coats, pulled out her old identification puck and handed it over to him.

He activated the puck and they watched as a hologram of her face and rank flickered on. “Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Rebel Smuggler.” Returning her puck, the Mandalorian finally relaxed his stance and holstered the weapon. “Sorry about all that but in my line of work…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” (Y/N) got to her feet and walked over to the armory to return her borrowed blaster and holster. “You’re hardly the first person to pull a blaster on me and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to watch her. “Well, alor’ad, that was some pretty good flying…for an ex-smuggler, that is.”

(Y/N) raised a brow in surprise, both at the nickname and at the playful jab. Was he, the intimidating Mandalorian warrior, actually teasing her? She glanced over at him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Ah, the galaxy’s age-old debate: which are the better pilots, smugglers or bounty hunters? It’s a little sad that there’s still bounty hunters out there who’ve diluted themselves into thinking they’re as good as smugglers.”

“As an ex-bounty hunter myself, I take offense to that. If I had access to another ship, I’d challenge you to a race right now but fortunately for you, I don’t.”

“Well, in my experience, bounty hunters are all talk and no action, so I’d say that you’re the fortunate one, not me.” Grinning triumphantly, (Y/N) couldn’t suppress her amused giggles any longer as he merely shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. Once her laughter died down, she reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out her money bag. “Three hundred New Republic credits, as promised.” In an instant, the good mood dissipated from the ship; he easily caught the money bag and pushed himself off the wall, his stoic stance returning as he gave her a short nod. She returned her attention to the open armory, feeling incredibly awkward as she continued. “I already input the coordinates to the nearest friendly planet, Batuu. We should be there in less than two hours and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah…yeah, of course. I’ll, um…I’ll be in the cockpit, if you need anything.”

She heard the Mandalorian make his way back up the ladder and when she was sure he was gone, she finally released the breath she’d been holding. She’d enjoyed working alongside the Mandalorian so much that she’d nearly forgotten that it was a temporary arrangement. Once they landed on Batuu they’d part ways; she’d find work somewhere on the planet and he’d go off on his next adventure. Well, it was fun while it lasted, she thought to herself as she moved to sit beside her open storage container, trying not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t felt that alive since her old Rebel days.

Giving her head a small shake, (Y/N) turned her attention back to her things and began thoroughly going through them to see if anything might be missing. Her task was soon interrupted, though, by the sound of a small coo; glancing around, she noticed the green child waddling towards her, his large eyes filled with curiosity. “Oh, hey there, little guy. Did you have a good nap?”

The child made another babbling noise that didn’t sound quite as happy as the first had been, which made (Y/N) bite back a smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry if I woke you with all the spinning. But it was worth it; an entire planet’s finally free to live in peace and I got all my stuff back, see?” She watched the child’s ears perk up with interest as he slowly made his way towards the small pile of clothing and other items; he soon became interested in her brown ankle-length Shaak-hide coat, running a tiny clawed hand over the soft leather. “You like that? It’s really comfortable to wear, and…”

Trailing off, (Y/N) was suddenly struck with inspiration. “I have just the perfect thing in mind for you, little guy.” She smiled as she gently took the coat from his grasp and reached for her sewing kit. “And I think you’re gonna like it…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just as (Y/N) had predicted, the journey to Batuu was relatively short and uneventful; the child had quickly grown disinterested with her project, choosing to slowly climb up the ladder to where the Mandalorian was busy piloting. She didn’t mind, though, silently reveling in the peacefulness of her task that she knew others would find mundane. Finishing up just as the Razor Crest began its descent, she managed to carefully hide her completed work behind her back before the Mandalorian began climbing down the ladder.

They made their way down the ramp, carrying her storage container between the two of them. “Here we are: Black Spire Outpost.” The Mandalorian set the container down, his gloved hands hanging stiffly by his sides. “I guess this is it.”

“Yeah. Before I go, I…well, I wanted to give you something. It’s actually for the little guy, but I thought I’d give it to you.” Anxiously biting her bottom lip, (Y/N) handed him the small bundle and watched as he began unraveling it. “It’s a satchel, so you can carry him around with you whenever he gets too tired to walk. I used a part of one of my old coats to sew it; the little guy liked how soft it was and I wanted him to be comfortable. I noticed his pram on the ship but I thought he might like to travel in this, too.”

The Mandalorian stared down at the satchel in his hands for several long moments before looking back up at her. “That’s…very kind of you, alor’ad. I’m sure he’ll like it.”

(Y/N) noticed the child making his way down the ramp and smiled. “I think so, too.” Returning her gaze to the visor of his helmet, her smile fell a little. “Well, I guess I’ll see you two around.” She turned, hiking her bag over her shoulder and reaching down to grab her storage container’s handle as she tried to ignore the melancholy feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“Wait.”

She straightened and spun back around to face the Mandalorian. “Yes?”

“I’ve been quested to return the child to his kind, but it’s been…challenging. Imps have put bounties on our heads and I’ve run out of leads on information to follow. You’re a hell of a pilot, alor’ad, and you’re very obviously a fighter, so…well, I could use a crew member of your abilities.”

“Wait…you want me to join your crew?”

The Mandalorian nodded. “I can pay you handsomely. It would be a completely equal partnership as well, as far as the workload goes. But I understand if you refuse; you’ve worked hard for a quiet life after the Rebellion and it would be unfair to ask you to abandon it.”

“You see, the thing about living a quiet life is that after a while, you find yourself hoping that something’ll come along to liven it up,” (Y/N) remarked, a smile slowly beginning to form on her face. “And it looks like today’s that day. I’m in.” They shook hands for the second time that day, but this one felt much more natural. “So, partner, what should I call you? I know that people usually call Mandalorians ‘Mando’ but it’s always sounded a bit like a slur to me and the last thing I wanna do is insult my new business partner, so what would you like me to call you?”

His helmet’s modulator made it difficult to tell, but she thought she heard him let out a chuckle. “You can call me ‘Mando.’ Welcome to the crew, alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Udessi!-Calm down, take it easy. Alor'ad-Captain

Chapter Two

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[thatgoblin]

Sacrifice

Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin fic

Summary: Chris and Sherry were on their way through the Rocky Mountains to meet up with Leon for an upcoming mission, but when they stop for the night at a quaint inn, Chris disappears in the middle of the night. The leaves Sherry to find him and rescue him from whatever may have happened to him. All the while trying to figure out how to tell him how she feels about him.

Warnings: kidnapping, cults, human sacrifice, bad puns, violence, blood.

For @lyndibs

Chris always insisted on driving. It was his one thing he did that he wouldn't let anyone else do. She figured it was a Chris thing. Kind of like how she was always had her eggs sunny side up.

In this instance she didn't mind too much. It was the middle of the night and they'd been driving for three hours already after a 12 hour plane ride from Paris. It hadn't been as romantic as it seemed at first, chasing B.O.W.s rarely is. There had been a few moments that she was sure Chris was picking up on her feelings or even reciprocating them.

But they all ended up being about something else. Like when he grabbed her hand and ran with her down the street, it wasn't because he didn't want to lose her, she had fallen behind and was nearly crushed by a flying car thrown by a tyrant. Or when he pressed them against a wall and they were so close they could feel each other's heart beat. His lips had been right there, a small push up to her toes and they would have connected. It was because they were being followed and were giving the stalker the slip.

It seemed every time she got her hopes up, they were quickly dashed away by work.

Who knew B.O.W.s could be such cock-blocks.

"Hey, I'm pulling over here for the night," Chris said, pulling Sherry from her dozing. Opening her eyes, she take a deep breath and stretched in her seat as Chris pulled into a small inn that had a 24 hour light on as well as a Vacancy sign up.

"Alright. I'll message Leon to let him know we're stopping for the night," Sherry said as she worked her head side to side to loosen her muscles up a bit. She pulled out her phone to send the other agent a message that they were stopping for a bit and would be there in the morning. In true Leon fashion he sent back a thumbs up emoji.

Sliding from the SUV, Sherry saw Chris already had their over night bags and was walking towards the office door. Jogging ahead, she grabbed the door for him, getting a nod of thanks.

"Oh, hello!" The pair were greeted by a small, older lady that had long gray hair tied back into a bun on top of her head and big, round glasses perched on her nose. "I was wondering if we'd have guests this evening. How are you two, dearies?"

"Tired," Chris said, giving her a small smile. The man of few words wasn't without respect and courtesy, especially with a grandmother aged woman. "We'd like a room for the night please. We'll be leaving in the morning."

"Okie dokie," the woman said, shuffling over to a large, leather bound book. Sherry was sure the book was bigger than the woman, but the elderly lady was able to open it with a bit of grunting. "Alright, would you like a king or a queen bed? Our Honeymoon suite is available as well if you'd like to show off for your lady friend," she said, looking at Chris expectantly.

Maybe this was it. They had never shared a bed together, so maybe Sherry could get the courage to say something with them curled up against one another. Chris was large, but he could be so gentle and she was sure he would be an amazing snuggler.

"Two doubles actually, please" Chris said, shattering Sherry's fantasy of them sharing a bed.

Damn it.

"Two doubles it is. Ah yes. Here we go. Room 12. It's just up the stairs and to the left," the woman said as she marked down room 12 as occupied. Turning to look at the wall of keys, she picked out the room key to hand to Chris. "There you go. We ask that you pay in advance in case someone isn't here for check out. It is $100 for the night." Chris pulled out his wallet to pay her, giving the woman a crisp bill. "Thank you. If someone isn't here for when you're checking out, please drop the key in box by the stairs."

"Will do, thank you for you help," Sherry said as Chris picked up the bags again then lead the way up the stairs.

"Have a good night, you two. Sleep tight! Don't let the bed bugs bite!" The woman called after them as they walked up the stairs.

"You really didn't want to share the honeymoon suite with me?" Sherry asked, meaning to tease but also to feel Chris out a bit.

"Honeymoon suites are usually cheaply made and are least likely to be cleaned properly. I'd rather take my chances with a double," Chris said.

"Then why not a king or queen?" She asked as they walked down the hall towards their room.

"Because I know you're a cover hog and kick in your sleep," he said with a soft snort.

"True. She was really nice about trying to up sale us at least. I mean usually they try to add in all the bells and whistles and it gets aggressive. She seemed like a really sweet person," Sherry said.

"Just because someone's older, doesn't mean they're a good person," Chris said as he set down a bag to open their door.

"Well, I think she was adorable," Sherry said, closing and locking the door behind them.

"I'm gonna take a shower then head to bed. I suggest doing the same. We've got another four hours of driving tomorrow," Chris said as he opened his bag to pull clothes out.

"Tell me again why we couldn't get a flight to Colorado directly?" Sherry asked with a soft sigh as she pulled out her sleep clothes.

"Budget cuts," Chris said, giving her a small, playful smirk.

"Of course. Isn't that always the case?" She said with a giggle.

Chris nodded before he turned to head to the bathroom. Once the door was closed and the shower going, Sherry changed her clothes. She had grabbed a shower at the hotel they had been out when they first landed while Chris had been in meetings nonstop.

Changed into a tee shirt and sleep shorts, she was bent over and touching her toes when Chris walked out in just a towel. Standing up straight, she missed his faltering step as his eyes had gone right to her ass.

"Forgot my shorts," he mumbled, digging in his bag again.

"You're good," she said, working her shoulders a bit as a strange scent began to fill the room. It wasn't Chris' soaps. Those weren't that strong. "Hey, what's that smell?" She said, catching Chris's attention before he shut the bathroom door. It took a second before it really hit her, making her vision swim as she stumbled towards her bed, trying to grab something to steady her.

"Sherry!" Chris cried out as he tried to get to her, but he was over taken by the sweet smell too. He got to the side of her bed before falling to the floor with a groan.

"Chris," Sherry mumbled as she fell to the floor as well, everything going black.

When Sherry woke up, her head was throbbing and she didn't know what was happening. Rolling to her back, she slowly sat up. Still in their room, Sherry looked around before realizing she was alone.

"Chris!?" She cried, scrambling up despite the headache she had. He was no where to be found. Their things were still there, but no Chris. All that was left was the towel he'd been wearing, so where could he have gone? Changing into more appropriate clothes, she found that their guns were gone as well as their knives, but they always had back ups. Digging in her bag, she pulled the zipper on the secret compartment to get to her guns, hip holsters, and knife before digging in Chris' bag for his guns and shoulder holsters to put them all on.

If Chris was gone, but the towel was still there then he'd probably need some clothes and shoes. Grabbing his bag, she extended the strap to sling the bag over her head and shoulder. Now she just had to find Chris. Her bag was useless so she left it behind as she walked out the door to creep downstairs. The old lady was still there, humming to herself as she puttered around small area behind the check in counter.

Chris had been right, just because someone was a cute, old person didn't mean they were good.

Gun drawn, she went down the stairs as the woman had her back to her.

"Turn around!" She snapped. The older woman turned around to see Sherry with a gun aimed at her head. "Where is Chris? The man that was with me, where is he?"

"Oh that Dennis," the woman frowned, grumbling like some kid had been naughty and didn't have a gun pointed at her. "I told him to take care of you, but my son said the gas would keep you knocked out longer."

"Listen lady, where's my partner!" Sherry snapped, not wanting to let her guard down.

"He's already dead, don't get your panties in a wad," the woman said with a sigh, waving her off.

"Dead? What are you talking about?" Sherry asked, refusing to believe Chris was dead. If the hoards of the undead couldn't wipe out Chris Redfield, some old lady and her son certainly couldn't.

"He was perfect for the sacrifice," the woman said. "You know, usually we get those hipsters that are so lean and gamy, but your friend was perfect for our Lord's first meal on Earth."

"Enough talking, where is Chris?" Sherry demanded, cocking her gun.

"Dennis! See, I told you that you can't lolly gag around," the woman said, looking just past Sherry.

Spinning on her heel, Sherry saw a large behemoth of a man. He was big, bigger than Chris even. His eyes were hidden behind a mess of black, stringy hair that hung around his head in a curtain as he stomped towards her with clenched fists that looked like they could be used as sledge hammers.

"Damn it," she hissed, not hesitating to fire on him. Six rounds had him stumbling to the ground as he screamed in pain.

"Dennis! My baby!" The woman cried as she launched herself over the counter at Sherry. "I'll rip your pretty, blue eyes out!" She shrieked. The woman didn't get far though as Sherry wasn't a damsel in distress and knew how to fight just as well as Chris.

"I don't think so," Sherry grunted, kicking the woman away. She was quick to get on her, pinning her down with her knee. "Where's Chris!?"

"It's too late. Our Lord Aries is on his way and soon the Earth will be cast into his red dawn and blood will rain-" Sherry pistol whipped the babbling woman, knocking her out.

"Why do they always have to talk too much?" She sighed as she stood up. Going to the counter, she moved behind it to try and see if there were any clues there. Sure enough, a squeaky, loose board could be pulled up. Under it was a button and when Sherry pushed it, the back wall with the keys slid to the side to reveal a secret staircase.

Time was running out and she couldn't risk second guessing. So Sherry kept her gun at the ready as she ran down the stairs.

There were four sets of stairs to go down and she wondered what the hell she would find at the bottom. Her question was answered when she got to the last step to found an open door way. She could hear people chanting in the next room as she crept closer to peek around the corner.

Looking into the stone room with dark archways on either side, there were at least 15 people that she could count, all dressed in dark red robes. Chris was at the front of the room, tied and gagged while nude to a pillar with wood surrounding it.

Were they going to burn him alive!? There wasn't any time to guess their end game as she heard screaming coming from above her. It was now or never.

"Hey assholes!" She cried, rushing in with her guns pulled. "That's my partner you're about to barbeque and I'm the only one allowed to roast him!"

The people turned to see her, pulling up their own weapons of staffs and large knives, but that didn't matter. Sherry was a crack shot and even running, she was able to shoot most of them if they stayed to fight or came at her. A few tried to surprise attack her, but she was not having it.

The annoyance at herself for not saying anything to Chris about them when she had the chance as well as him skipping out on them getting a king sized bed together, combined with the fact the first time she saw him naked was right then when he was trussed up like some Faye Ray wannabe ready for the rescue, it was all pissing her off. Which made it all the more satisfying to slam her fist into some idiot's face to knock him on his ass.

Once they were all lying on the floor, groaning or bleeding or dead, she hopped up through the gasoline soaked wood to Chris.

Oh, he was very naked and try as she might, she couldn't help but have seen him. 'Good luck trying not to think of that later,' she thought to herself.

"Usually you're the one pulling me out of harms way," she said, pulling her knife to cut him free. "Also brought you presents." Keeping her eyes averted, she held out the bag of clothes for him.

"Thanks, Sherry," Chris said, grunting as he took the bag then quickly dressed. "You're a life saver."

"Don't mention it," she chirped. As he pulled on his shoulder holsters and checked his gun, he looked to her.

"Look, Sherry, uh about the bed thing-"

"You bitch!"

The two of them looked towards the door to see the elderly woman standing there with a rifle.

"You ruined everything! Everything! I will do it myself!" She screamed as she raised the gun and fired it at Chris.

"Chris, no!" Sherry cried, jumping in front of him to take the bullet to her back.

"Sherry!" Chris cried out as he caught her. He pulled her gun from her hand to shoot the older woman. She tried to fire first, but Chris was faster, sending a bullet between her eyes. "Sherry, talk to me, come on," he said, laying her down on her belly as blood soaked her shirt in the back.

"It's okay," Sherry wheezed as Chris began to panic. His hands were pressing to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "Don't worry about me."

"Not happening. I'm always going to worry about you," he said, pulling his jacket off to help soak up blood. "We're gonna get out of here. I promise."

"Chris, stop. It doesn't matter," Sherry said, trying to reach for his hand.

"No, it does matter," Chris said, grabbing her hand with his bloody one in a tight grip. "You matter, Sher. Please, just hold on, okay?"

"You gotta let go of me, Chris," Sherry said, trying to take a deep a deep breath under the pressure of Chris pushing on her.

"I'm not letting you go! I can't! I won't!" He cried, refusing to let up. "Please, I can't lose you."

"Chris. . ." Sherry said softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, kissing her hand. "I love you and I should have said it before now and acted like it."

"I love you, but you have to stop pressing on my back. I can't breathe," she said with a groan.

"What?" He said, frowning.

"Chris, I can heal myself, remember?" Sherry said, looking up at him as he stared down at her. "I'm fine, but you're squeezing the air out of me."

How the hell did he forget that?

"Oh, uh, sorry," he said, letting go of her. As he did, the bullet sat in the small of her back like it hadn't been inside her at all. "Well, uh. . ."

"I meant it," Sherry said as she pushed herself up to her knees in front of him. "What I said."

"Yeah?" Chris said, smiling softly. "I meant it too."

"Good, because otherwise this would have been awkward."

Sherry leaned in to kiss him, resting her hands on his chest. It wasn't hard or needy, but it was perfect for them. His lips were rough, needing balm as he pressed back against her fuller ones, cupping her face to return the affection.

"Let's get out of here and go to a Holiday Inn. I'm pretty sure there's no cults in those," Chris said after pulling away.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a shower," Sherry said, making a face down at herself.

"I'll help if you want me to," he said, raising a brow.

"I'm sure you would," she said with a snort.