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inbabylontheywept · 3 months ago

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she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway.

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me.

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable.

so i said hey.

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had.

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay.

and she said: i’m really sorry.

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on.

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car.

crunch.

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle.

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done.

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door.

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now.

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember.

and in my head, i’d say you, dad.

i’m going to remember you.

#babylon-lore #dad lore #stories #breakups #gas station hotdogs #i really like green olives okay #i dont have a sense of smell so if food isnt like WHAM in the flavor department it just doesnt do a lot for me #in my sophomore year i ate so many homemade pickles that i actually got a wee bit of scurvy #major autism L

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gudfornuthin · 3 months ago

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All I’ve Ever Wanted

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

! Spoilers ahead !

Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.

Word count: 4212

A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)

Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.

After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.

The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.

After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.

He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.

The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.

A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.

“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.

Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”

The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.

Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.

He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.

“You’re telling the truth?”

Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.

“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”

Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”

She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.

***

The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.

After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.

They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.

The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”

The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”

The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”

Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

“My names Y/N.”

Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.

***

After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.

“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”

Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.

He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”

Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.

“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”

A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.

Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.

He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.

“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”

Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.

“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?

He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”

***

That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.

Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.

***

It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.

A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.

“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.

A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.

“Shit.”

She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.

“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”

They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.

“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.

Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”

Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.

“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”

So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.

“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”

They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.

“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”

They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.

She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”

Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.

She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”

They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.

They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.

***

Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…

Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.

Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.

As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.

“They taste perfect,” she says.

Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”

She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”

“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.

They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.

“Damn.”

She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”

Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.

She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”

He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”

***

Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?

Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.

“That’s new.”

Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.

“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”

He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?

***

After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.

He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.

She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”

She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.

She leans back. “You okay?”

Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s the way back to my timeline.”

She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.

Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”

Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.

“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”

A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.

“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”

Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.

He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.

Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”

Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”

#the umbrella academy #number five #five hargreeves x reader #x reader #five hargreeves #tua s4 #tua s4 spoilers

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chevroletdean · 18 days ago

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mirror sex [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

kinktober 2024

ship: dean x afab!fem!reader genre: smut, angst to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, established relationship, hunt almost gone wrong, canon-level violence, patching/stitching up wounds, dean’s self loathing tendencies, hurt/comfort, little bit of praise kink, fingering, porn with plot word count: 3.6k a/n: three days until halloween and i feel like i’m way behind on kinktober. i might just try to get to some of these during november as well, my apologies. also, the cat’s out of the bag: i’m a sucker for angst. i’m curious what you guys enjoy to read/write the most, are you more into fluff, smut, or angst?

Dean’s harsh on himself. Always. You knew that even before you started dating him. It’s how he grew up, after all. From a young age it’s been drilled into him by John; that he has to be tough and strong, that he isn’t allowed to think before he acts, that certain things have to be done – even when these things are ugly. Even when they turn other things ugly. Things like the sight of his hands afterwards. Things like his whole reflection, honestly.

It’s days like these where he enters autopilot, in a poor attempt of resorting to a self-defense mechanism. He can’t stand the reflection in the mirror, so he simply doesn’t look. He wouldn’t like what he sees, so he avoids it altogether, if he can.

Saving people, hunting things, the family business – killing monsters always sounds so heroic until you realize your decisions are cut-and-dry to the cruelest degree, until the soap can only scrub clean the red from your hands but not the guilt that still sticks to your skin, and until you begin to wonder who the actual monster is.

Dean’s harsh on himself in that he blames himself for everything. It’s all his responsibility, the weight of the world always on his shoulders.

Hunts go wrong. It’s part of the job, but that thought isn’t as comforting as it should be, because it doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t take away any of the gravity.

Dean and you had been tracking down this pack of aggressive werewolves. The job had sounded so easy, everything had been so straight-forward. Until you two realized that the town’s sheriff was in on it, and ultimately, so was his son. Partially, at least. Just a kid, barely twenty-one – about the age when Sam hit the library, when he should’ve hit on cute girls on campus, around the age of frat parties with beer-pong cups and hangovers.

A guy who had his whole life ahead of him, but had it snuffed out by a silver bullet to his chest. (or rather, by Dean’s finger pulling that trigger, if you’d ask Dean how it went down, because he sees no point in distancing himself from the narrative when it was his doing). Not because that kid wanted any of it. Hell, as Dean and you had been investigating the case, you came to realize all that boy wanted was a peaceful life. And you knew it was possible, some werewolves were able to build up normalcy without killing anybody, picket-fence and all, more so than your average hunter, sometimes.

But you had shot the sheriff, given that he’d been systematically kidnapping his victims throughout the years. And upon witnessing the silver piercing through his father’s chest, the student went downright feral. He attacked you and jumping you, going for a bite that never landed, was the last thing he ever did.

“You had to shoot him,” you told Dean in the car, just like he predicted you would.

“I know,” came Dean’s reply and those were the only words during the whole ride, just like you predicted they’d be.

Even upon arrival back at the bunker, he remains silent. The loudest noises are just his footsteps, which are heavier than usual as he drags you to your shared room, and ultimately the slam of the bathroom door that he shuts behind the two of you.

“Sit,” he says, voice laced with anger that you know he only directs at himself, and nudges you to the edge of the bathtub. You know better than to argue with him and despite the fact that there’s a nasty gash on his shoulder, you let him clean the minor scratch above your eyebrow first. You must’ve hit your head back when the werewolf slammed you against a shelf, but you’ve definitely had worse. But Dean puts others before himself and your wellbeing is always his priority.

Yet, his ministrations aren’t exactly gentle. He dabs the rubbing alcohol to your cut brow without any regard for the way you wince slightly. His eyes don’t meet yours as he shoves his hand into the cupboard and impatiently fishes for bandages. His jaw is clenched tightly as he patches you up with a bandaid.

He’s in his own head, clearly – or trying to keep those spiraling thoughts at bay within his self-critical mind. Those what ifs and should’ve dones would kill him otherwise.

You can only watch as he straightens his back, turns around, takes a step towards the sink opposite to the bathtub, slams the cabinet shut again, and keeps his gaze purposefully low. His eyes remain glued to his hands as he washes them, as if he doesn’t dare to lift his chin.

“Let me help you with your shoulder,” you mumble softly and he almost can’t hear you over the running water and the running thoughts. It’s your gentle touch that makes him snap out of it, but even as he raises his head at last, his eyes only land on the reflection of you. Your face peeks out over his shoulder, one of your arms wrapped around his middle, the other hand ghosting over his blood-soaked sleeve.

“No need, ‘m fine,” he grumbles, stubborn as ever. But as he turns off the faucet, the movement reminds him of the sharp ache and the dull throb in his arm. Just the graze of the sheriff’s bullet. He knows he got lucky, but he also can’t bring himself to care about any of that with every other dreadful aspect of today.

“A couple of inches away from death doesn’t fit my definition of fine, Dean.”

He can’t argue with that, it would be hypocritical. A droplet of blood on your forehead is enough to make him worry and who is he to deny you your concerns when he’s been injured too? Besides, he knows you can see right through him. Physical injuries are one thing, but the emotional damage often runs deeper than any blade or gun could.

Though his muscles are stiff, Dean doesn’t resist as you slowly peel off his flannel. His eyes are still fixated on you. He can’t bring himself to look at the wound himself, much less let his gaze drift anywhere close to his own reflection right now.

Your movements are mesmerizing enough to keep him distracted anyway.

You reach around him to turn the faucet back on and you grab a washcloth. You tie your messy hair back and out of the way and you carefully roll up the short sleeve of his shirt. You dampen the cloth and wipe the blood from his arm. Once you disinfect the wound, he ultimately looks away. Not because of the sting of the rubbing alcohol, but because of the pain he recognizes in your eyes. Your brows knit together and you frown slightly, sighing to yourself.

He can’t bear watching you pity or fuss over him when part of him feels like he deserves this.

“C’mon, ’s not even that bad, sweetheart,” he grumbles, but his voice is strained.

Your movements come to a halt as you blink up at the mirror, expecting to see his green eyes look back at you through the reflection. But Dean’s head hangs low again and his hands grip onto the edge of the sink he’s staring into.

“I’m glad it’s not,” you hum, but you still grab ahold of his hands and pull him away from the sink. “Sit.”

When you say that word, it sounds a thousand times softer than when he did. You know he hadn’t huffed it at you earlier, but rather didn’t bother concealing his bad mood. Still, his annoyances aren’t directed at you, so he makes an effort to pull you closer gently, in apologetic fashion. His hands settle on your hips as he sits down on the edge of the tub. You’re standing between his legs, surgical thread and needle in your hand.

“Lift your arms f’me, babe?”

When Dean follows your instructions without a witty remark about how eager you are to get him to strip, you know the self loathing is bad. You help him peel off his shirt, tossing it straight into the laundry basket. Luckily there aren’t any other major injuries, though you suspect a couple of bruises will bloom by tomorrow.

His hands go back to your hips, as if he’s able to steady and ground himself by holding you, to which you have no complaints. As long as he’ll let you stitch him up, you even let his bolder touches slide. You’re so focused on closing up the wound that you barely react to his fingers curling around the back of your thighs.

With this position, Dean’s practically forced to face the mirror again. It’s right behind you and with the way you’re half bent over, leaning down to his arm, the view is without obstruction. But his attention is fixated on the jeans-cladded plush in his palms. His hands wander higher, fingers splaying out over your curves. He gives your ass a gentle squeeze to which your breath hitches.

“Careful, unless you want to end up looking like Frankenstein’s monster,” you chuckle playfully, relieved that he’s in high enough spirits for teasing touches.

“Since when are you not into the scarred badass guys?”

“Touché,” you smile in response, “Although I prefer them in a confident mood.”

He groans, knowing where this is going, but he decides to play along. “What d’ya mean?”

Your smile curls into a smug grin as you shrug. “I mean,” you sigh and finish the last stitch, securing the thread into a knot and setting the needle aside. “Scarred, badass guys are even hotter when they know that they’re strong,” you continue, before you plant a kiss to his forehead, “that they’re brave…” Another kiss, to his nose this time.

A quiet growl escapes him as he instinctively tightens his grip on your ass. You know he doesn’t fully believe your words, but you’re adamant about convincing him, so you continue with your list: “…heroic.” More kisses, this time a chaste one directly to his lips, though Dean scoffs and pulls away almost immediately.

“Yeah, right,” he scowls. “Nothing screams hero more than murdering someone.”

“You saved me tonight,” you argue back, whilst gently cupping his face. “You’re definitely my hero.”

His gaze wanders from your lips up to your eyes, seeing nothing but gratitude and adoration in them. Both of which he feels undeserving of. Dean Winchester isn’t half the hero you think he is, he’s all kinds of screwed and his fucked up life consists of violence and regret most of the time. Yet you always look at him as if there’s something worth looking at. Even when he can’t see it himself.

“Just doing my job,” he replies and his voice feels thick and wrong on his own tongue.

“No,” you huff, your thumbs tracing the sharp edge of his jaw, the scruff grazing against the pads of your fingers. “It’s not your job to look after me, or to fight evil. But you’re damn good at it and you do it to make the world a better place. Just like you did today.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at your words, since he’s not exactly sure how shortening the lifespan of a young man can possibly add any plus points to his karma. But he understands where you’re coming from, even if he can’t accept it fully just yet. He doesn’t regret pulling the trigger either, he’d do it again – in a heartbeat – if it meant keeping you alive. In that regard, what he did was the right thing, but that didn’t mean it was an easy thing.

“You did what you had to do, babe,” you sigh, tilting his face up a little again before he could avert his gaze once more.

You’d tell him that he shouldn’t beat himself up over it, but that would be like talking to a wall. Your reasoning tends to reach him better than the loving reassurances, even though you both know you’re right. Maybe that boy didn’t deserve to die, werewolf or not, but in that moment it was either him or you.

Your lips land on him once more, this time on his jaw, before they wander down the hollow of his throat. Dean welcomes the sensation of your mouth on his neck, your teeth against his collarbones. Your hands on his chest, warm and soft and eager. So eager to make him feel good, to prove to him his own worth.

Your fingers are always enough to make his walls crumble. The sweet nothings you whisper to his ear always suffice. It might not heal him entirely, but his doubts are soothed for the moment whenever you need him. Whenever you give him what he needs. Whenever you love him.

Your hands reach the waistband of his denim pants, against which his cock is already beginning to strain. Once your touch ghosts over the prominent bulge, he snaps and indulges. In one swift movement, he stands up, his hands still tight on your hips as he picks you up and carries you to the sink. Within a second you find yourself positioned on the bathroom counter, your back nearly bumping against the mirror behind you and your legs draped around Dean’s waist. You’d complain about how he should be careful, lest he wants the fresh stitches to rip open, but your protest dies on Dean’s tongue, which he has already slipped past your lips.

Dean kisses you hard and with purpose, as if wanting to repay your praises. Where your mouth works its magic through words, he has always known different ways to use his. Always a man of actions, your boyfriend. His lips wander down your neck, making you gasp in delight.

He grunts, dizzy with the taste of you, your scent, your voice. You’re so soft under his calloused hands that he’s reminded once more of how close he was to losing you tonight. His impatient hands pull your shirt up over your chest, where his lips latch onto. He doesn’t even bother pulling it over your head fully, eager to search your heartbeat with his tongue, as if he’s able to taste that you’re still alive that way.

While you’re busy discarding your shirt properly, Dean’s mouth finds your nipple through the lace of your bra. You arch your back into his touch further, his name falling from your lips in a whimper that almost has his brain short-circuit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gruffs and pulls you off the counter, turning you in his arms so you’d face the mirror. His low voice is gravelly and half muffled by the column of your neck, which he still works some hickeys into. “Always treating me like some kind of hero when you’re the one keeping me alive and sane.”

His bare chest is pressed flush against your back and your hips are lodged against the edge of the sink, to which your shaky fingers grip so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You whimper again, softly, as you feel him rock his hips against your ass. Were it not for his large hands around you, one on your waist, the other cupping your breast, your knees would give out and you’d topple over.

Dean shoves a little harsher, his chest still flat against your back as he pushes you closer to the mirror. It’s fogging up slightly with how heavily you’re panting against the glass. Your eyes meet through the reflection and he finds himself not minding the mirror so long as you’re in the picture as well.

The bandaid that used to roughly match your skin color earlier now sticks out against your flushed face, red and warm all the way down to your neck and even your chest. Your lips are kiss-bitten, puffy and slightly parted as your ragged breath is interrupted by little mewls and whines.

Most days Dean’s looks in the mirror and hates what he sees. But he could get used to this view. At least he can appreciate the sight of his own hands on you, one around your throat, the other between your thighs, making you unravel, being held by yours as you reach for his wrists.

“Maybe scratch the sane part, you know you’re driving me crazy,” he revises his earlier statement as his deft fingers make quick work of your jean’s button and fly. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shudder as he watches every small reaction of yours closely, like a hawk.

He shoves his hand straight into your underwear, satisfied when his fingers find your slick and his ears pick up on the meek moan. He’s barely even touched you yet, but you’re already soaking. You’re so damn responsive it almost makes him want to rip both your pants off and just take you until you’ll see stars. While patience is a virtue, it’s not Dean’s strong suit – yet he wants to take his time with you.

“Always taking such good care of me,” he whispers roughly, gently pinching your clit between his middle and ring finger. “My turn making my girl feel good.”

Using your previous methods on you now, he presses a soft kiss to your temple. His lips brush right against the edge of your bandaid. “My pretty girl,” he breathes, before his mouth wanders to your cheek, where he places another kiss.

“My smart girl, always using her pretty head to keep us alive.” God knows his words are true – your quick thinking and ability to stay level headed has saved the both of you out of dangerous situations more times than he can count.

One of his fingertips slips past your entrance, causing you to overhear whatever he adds to the list of compliments. You’re too distracted by the digit sinking deeper into your cunt with little resistance.

Your blush deepens further, fingers curling around the sink’s ceramic. Your eyelashes flutter and your eyes threaten to close, but Dean prevents your head from dropping low with a gentle nudge of his hand. His fingers tighten around your throat, firm enough to make you redirect your focus, but not enough to squeeze your windpipes, let alone hurt you in any way.

“Eyes on the mirror, doll,” he hums against your jaw. “Would be a shame if you were t’miss out on the show, huh? Look how pretty you are f’me, princess, all sensitive and needy.”

You squirm and whimper, struggling to follow his order with how he’s making your head spin. He’s not playing fair. How’re you supposed to focus on anything except him adding another finger to pump in and out of your cunt?

“Dean, please,” you moan, desperately trying to wiggle your hips. You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for, exactly. More of him. All of him. Not like you can’t already feel him throb against the curve of your ass.

“Wanna see you cum on my fingers first, baby,” he mumbles, nearly slurring over his own words. But the hand around your throat loosens its grip and he already moves it down to pull your pants lower. “Know you’re almost there, can feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers.”

You half groan half sob, beyond flustered, but too far gone to argue back. Your legs are already shaking thanks to his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathing becomes more ragged with each intake of oxygen. You attempt to throw him a pleading glance through the mirror, but all you can see is your own messy state. Your gaze briefly flickers down, watching his thumb circle your clit in the reflection. However, your eyes are forced back up as Dean’s free hand winds up in your hair and pulls your head back until it’s settled against his uninjured shoulder.

“Eyes up here,” he quips and you’d want to wipe that smug smirk off his lips, were it not for his fingers curling inside of you and pushing you over the edge at last. Your mouth falls open and you cry out as liquid heat rushes through every fiber of your body. You see your own reflection, expression twisted into pleasure and bliss as your orgasm washes over you and you clamp down on Dean’s fingers. Your grip tightens around his wrist, which doesn’t stop him from guiding you through the ecstasy.

“So good for me,” Dean praises, or you think that’s what you hear in your hazy state. You’re still trying to catch your breath as he withdraws his hands from between your now sticky thighs. He brings it up to his mouth, giving his fingers a brief lick. You shudder in awe watching him. His pupils are blown wide, glistening tongue peeking out from those plump lips of his.

But he changes his mind at the last second.

“Not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he whispers and presses his fingers against your lips. You obediently open your mouth for him, welcoming his fingers in, though you flush more as you taste yourself on his skin.

Your walls flutter and clench around nothing just at that, but you have a feeling he’s about to do something about the empty feeling. He smirks knowingly, his cheek pressed against yours, your faces in the mirror side by side.

“Think I should show you how pretty you look taking my cock? I swear, it feels unfair that I’m always the only one who gets to enjoy the show.”

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

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#chevroletdean writes #chevroletdean‘s kinktober #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural x you #spn x reader #dean angst #dean smut #spnsc #spnangst #spnsmut #dean sc #scenario #kinktober #dividers by inklore

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robo-writing · 1 month ago

Note

Sometimes I sit here and think about baby Logan, you know the one from the first X-men movie? With the grey hoodie? Yeah that baby Logan. Anyway, I think about Deadpool pulling worst Logan into more time shinaganen shit and of course worst Logan’s gf (who was his gf in his last universe but of course died during the attack, but this one either never met her universe Logan or something) and somehow, she runs into baby first Xmen Logan wearing the grey hoodie and running around clueless as where the hell he is, until he bumps into a surprisingly pretty woman who for some reason is cooing over him and calling him a precious baby,(and did she just pspspspsps at me?? I’m not a fucking cat? No the hair doesn’t look like cat ears?! The hell wrong with you lady?!) and he only gets her name before a older version of him in a gaudy yellow suit shows up to grab her and take her away, grumbling about having to keep track of two overgrown toddlers while a mouthy guy in a red leather suit says some stupid shit before following after the older version of Logan into some strange portal. Of course soon after baby Logan gets found by Xavier and when he ask who the woman named y/n is, Xavier just looks at him confused. (Of course perhaps that Logan will meet y/n a few years down the road, or he never sees her again, a shame really, she was quiet a looker, despite being so weird, he can stand being called a baby or a kitten by her again)

Waking up in a strange building is one thing, but walking out of an elevator to find a woman starting him down is another—especially when she keeps calling him kitty.

“Oh my god, look at you! You’re so young!” Her voice is high-pitched, oohing and ahhing at him like some kind of attraction. Maybe it’d piss him off more if you didn’t look so cute doing it.

“Cute lil kitten aren’t you? And your ears are so fluffy!”

You reach up to touch his hair, and he would grab your hand if someone else didn’t already beat him to it.

A gaudy yellow suit is the first thing he sees, then—what the fuck?

“Doll, I told you not to go wandering off,” the stranger says, and it’s now that his day goes from bizarre to fucking impossible because he’s staring at himself. Older, sure, but his voice, his body, damn near everything—

“Oh peanut! It’s time to go!” Says another man in a bright red jumpsuit, and he can hear the other man groan in response.

“Alright, you heard him.”

“Aw,” you complain, following after the two of them. “Wanted to pet him before we go.”

You wave to the younger man behind you, giving him a wink along with your name. “Come find me when you’re all grown up kitty! I’ll be waiting for you!”

“Wait—!”

His words fall on deaf ears, the trio disappearing soon after in a yellow doorway. His jaw drops, unsure of what just happened was real or if he’s just high as a fucking kite.

After a couple of introductions and many confused glances, he finds out that the three people he met are not students or professors, and that no one in the room had ever seen them before. Years pass along with many, many, life changing events and his odd welcome party becomes a memory of the past.

That is, until he finds out Charles has hired a new school counselor, and she looks just a bit too similar to be a coincidence. Once he gets over the shock he extends his hand, to which you accept.

“Names Logan.” He says, and you give yours in return, the same name you gave him all those years ago. It’s now that you point to his hair with a small smile.

“Do you style your hair or does it always come out like that?”

His eyebrow raises, unsure of the line of questioning. “Not really? Why do you ask?”

You open your mouth, then close it with a shake of your head. “Forget it, you’re gonna think it’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan replies. “Try me.”

You bite your lip, debating on whether you should speak, eventually choosing to bite the bullet. “Well, it’s just that your hair kinda looks like ears. Y’know, like a cat.”

His chuckle is instant, evolving into a laugh. You’re getting more and more nervous, afraid you said something wrong until his hand gives you a good pat on the shoulder.

“Y’know, you’re the second girl to tell me that,” he muses, leaning in close. “But come to think of it, ‘kitty’ has a better ring to it, don’tcha think?”

#robo speaks #ask #robo writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #if the writing style seems off I literally wrote this in 20 minutes no editing #it’s 3 am 🫠

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bvidzsoo · 7 months ago

Text

♡Boyfriend!Wooyoung♡

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

TW: none

Word count: 678

Genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship, bullet points, non-idol!au

A/N: Hello, anonie, I see that you have sent the request to my other blog, which I use for rebloging my favorite works (something that I haven't been doing for a long time lol I have to pick up on it again) I'd like to clarify that I don't take requests, sorry guys, but I simply don't have the time rn and I usually struggle coming up with anything unless it's my own idea lol. And if you do send a request, it might take a long time for me to write it, my apologies. This story is in bulletpoints, just letting you know. Hope you enjoy it! ^^

it had been a long day

too long, actually

normally, tackling a long day of work and going to your Pilates class too wouldn't have made you so exhausted

but you were sick, very, apparently

you had spent the weekend up in the mountains last weekend, at your boyfriend's best friend's weekend cabin and it was rather cold

so naturally, you caught a cold

but life doesn't stop there, no matter how unwell you felt

you still had a job...a very demanding one, at that

and you had just picked up more shifts last week, unknowing of the predicament you'd find yourself in after your little trip

so now, by the time you had reached home at the end of the day, you had no power left in your body

your head was dizzy and you were grateful you managed to get home without crashing your car, but walking up the stairs to your apartment felt like an eternity, and it was horrible

as you fiddled for your keys, on the verge of tears as your whole body was burning up, you became aware of the music coming through the front door, and you boyfriend belting out high notes alongside it

and as you finally unlock the door and push it open, you're met with your boyfriend standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt reaching past his naked thighs and knee-high socks he uses when playing football with his friends after a long working day

and oh, he's holding a wooden spoon, looking completely off-thrown by your arrival

he misjudged the time and thought you wouldn't be home for another hour

now you'd have to wait for dinner, and that's not how he had planned your date night to go

which was a surprise that Wooyoung came up with last minute

you stare at Wooyoung for a second, before dropping everything from your hands and kneeling, holding your head in your hands, tears finally springing from your eyes

Wooyoung is flabbergasted and immediately rushes to your side, dropping the wooden spoon on the small coffee table in the process

he's by your side in an instant, cradling your head to his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead before he's wiping your tears away, making you finally feel at ease despite the headache, dizziness, and nausea you're feeling

Wooyoung is your pillar when you're feeling even the slightest bit off and he certainly understands that what you need right now are silence, a warm bath, and some painkillers, of course

and so just like that, he helps you up and walks you to your bedroom, leaves you on the bed to discard of your clothes and goes prepare the bath for you

and once you are done with the bath, feeling slightly better as your head isn't pulsating so much anymore, Wooyoung surprises you by bringing dinner to bed, of which you can't eat too much now, but it'll be good in the morning

and then Wooyoung gives you some water and you take the painkillers and before he could go and let you rest, you grab Wooyoung's wrist and offer him a small smile

and he understands without you saying anything

and so, he shuts off all lights in the apartment before joining you in bed, and because you don't want him to catch a cold, he becomes the small spoon as you burry your head into his back, holding onto him tightly

and suddenly all your worries melt away, and today doesn't seem so grim anymore

your head is still thumping, and your nose is still stuffy, and you think your fever is finally going down

but what matters most, is your boyfriend being by your side and humming quietly, tracing your skin gently with his fingers, your right arm resting around his torso, feeling safe

far away from the exhausting world and demanding assignments from your work

and you know you'll feel a lot better by the morning, all thanks to your lovable boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung

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garbinge · 2 years ago

Text

Clean Cut

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, anxiety, worry, car accidents. Slightly angsty.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Okay so I just caught up with all The Rookie seasons and I’m just LIVING for Chenford. Like LIVING. buuuuuut I noticed there wasn’t much Tim x Reader fic out there soooooo I figured why not! This idea came to my head at some point when I was watching and I also have like a whole story of their life beyond and before this moment but enjoy this little reworked snippet from 2x08.

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

It had felt like a long day already and you had only been clocked in at the hospital for two hours. You still had 10 hours left in your shift and it felt like you experienced a whole day’s worth already. Being a corpsman for a Marine squad prepared you for a lot but sometimes the uniqueness of LA and the people who resided in it and tended to need your RN medical services at St. Stevens ran you for your money.

Currently, you were updating patient charts during the lull that was likely to last all of two seconds but it beat staying an extra hour to finish your paperwork likely unpaid because the hospital rarely approved overtime for RNs.

“Wanna tell me why it’s so crazy for a Tuesday?”

The statement from your coworker caused you to look at them over your shoulder and let out a laugh.

“I wish I had an answer to that, but I also feel like anything I say will jinx it even more.” You pushed the computer cart against the wall and moved over to your coworkers cart. “You’ve got like 15 pages here, what is this?” You picked up the manila folder that was larger than your normal ER patient folders.

“Police car accident. There’s a few of them in the ER right now, these things always include tons of paperwork. Everyone needs to cover their asses.”

Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of a police accident but what really caused you to go into panic mode was seeing your husband's name on the report.

Before you could even answer your co-worker you were moving down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long. You knew the elevator would probably be quicker but the thought of standing still while you waited for and in it would drive your mind crazy so rushing down the stairs was the better alternative.

Tim was sitting on one of the ER beds, the scene of it caused you to stop for a minute. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Tim hurt waiting to be treated. In all honesty this was probably the tamest medical treatment scenario you two had been in together. He looked fine from afar, but that didn’t stop the worry from boiling in your gut.

“What happened?” You were next to him within seconds, the worry being the fuel of moving you from the staircase entrance to his side in seconds.

“I rear ended a civilian.” Tim knew better than to try and calm you down with pleasantries and relaxing mantras.

“Jesus.” Your hand moved to your pocket in search of your pen light. Quickly, you flashed it in front of his eyes, searching for his eyes to constrict and then dilate when you moved the light away.

“They already did this.” Tim’s voice was neutral, but you knew he was annoyed.

“Humor me.” Your head tilted, now your own annoyance was clear to him.

His eyes softened as they met yours and he nodded which gave you the okay to keep running through the trauma checklist in your head.

“This isn’t like you.” Tim said after a few minutes of silence between you as he humored you by lifting up his arms as you pressed down on his ribs and checked his reflexes.

“In what way?” You talked as you continued to look him over.

“I’ve come home and told you I’ve gotten shot at and you barely react, I tell you that I got into a car accident and you’re acting like I have internal bleeding.” Tim’s eyebrows raised.

“Did they do a CT scan? You could have internal bleeding. Especially if the airbags went off.”

“Doc.” The use of the nickname only 13 people in the world knew you as caused you to stop your examination of Tim and stand in front of him, slightly defeated.

“If I worried about every close call you encounter everyday, I’d be dysfunctional. This.” You pointed towards him and the bed, “This is tangible. This actually happened.”

Tim nodded and a smirk slightly filled his face.

“You doubtin’ me, Sarge?” You frowned as you asked him, using your own nickname for him.

“No,” Tim let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back up at you. “I know better than to ever doubt you.”

“Smart man.” Officer Lopez walked up to the two of you with a smile. “How’s he doin’?” She looked between the both of you.

“He’s fine. No signs of a concussion,” you looked at Angela and then back at Tim, “and no signs of internal bleeding.” You smirked at him knowing he was going to give you one back.

“Give us a minute, Lopez?” Tim stood up and ripped the hospital bracelet off his wrist.

“Yea, just wanted to let you know the break lights were cut in the car you hit, foul play, you’ll likely be in the clear.” She explained while looking at the both of you, relief coming as a sigh from both you and Tim. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She nodded at him and squeezed your arm to say goodbye before leaving the ER.

“We goin’ back to the conversation we were having or a new one?” You asked Tim as he towered over you.

“You pulled shrapnel out of my abdomen in Afghanistan and you look more worried checking me for a concussion.” Tim said with his arms crossed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Your one worded answer wasn’t convincing.

“Don’t lie to me.” Tim said more seriously than any of his other statements.

You sighed, “Like I said, this is tangible. In Afghanistan, we weren’t exactly given the space to worry. Here, I feel like it’s all I have to hold onto. But again, if I held onto every worry I’d be dysfunctional. I know you can handle yourself when bullets are flying, when shit goes sideways, it’s these out of your control scenarios that just get me flustered.” You explained moving your hands around as you talked.

Tim brought you in for a hug, knowing nothing he’d say could change anything. “You do realize, I’m the one that rear-ended the civilian, not the other way around, right? Totally in my control.” He teased you.

“Not according to Angela.” You corrected him and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“See you tonight, I already texted Angela all the concussion signs in case we missed anything.” Letting your last bit of worry out.

“You haven’t missed a single diagnosis or injury since I met you, Doc!” He called out from a few feet from you.

“You know, I’m technically not a doc, anymore, Sarge!” You yelled out to him.

He turned around with his arms up as he continued to walk backwards. “And I’m not technically a Sargeant anymore.”

“Old habits die hard!” You yelled back just before the elevator doors opened and he stepped backwards into the elevator flashing you a quick smile before the doors closed and he was back on duty.

#Tim Bradford #Tim Bradford x Reader #Tim Bradford x F!Reader #The Rookie #The Rookie Fanfiction #The Rookie Fanfic #The Rookie Tim Bradford #Tim Bradford Fanfic #Tim Bradford Fanfiction #Timothy Bradford #my writing #garbinge

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samandcolbyownme · 23 days ago

Note

Hey girl I just wanted to tell you I love your drug dealer stuff. Like I don’t know what’s in the air when you write them but they speak to me 😭🫶🏾

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, drug dealer!Sam, mentions of smoking weed, drinking, Halloween party theme, fake weapons, flirting, kissing, biting, scratching, fingering, unprotected sex, oral (m rec), filth

Word Count: 2.8k | unedited

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

“Sam and Colby go all out, dude.” Your friend, Mae, looks around, “Holy fuck.”

“I told you.” You laugh, “Sam and Colby love Halloween.” You make your way over to the table and hand her a cup, “I should have smoked before this.”

“Why didn’t you?” She looks at you as you pour liquor into her cup, and you shrug, “I’m out.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We could have stopped at my guy before we came!”

“It’s okay. I’ll get more tomorrow.” You laugh, “I think alcohol is just fine for tonight, anyway.” She laughs, shaking her head, “I mean..”

“What?” You set down the bottle and look at her, “You mean.. what, Mae?”

She shakes her head, “You could just ask Sam.”

“Why would I ask Sam?” You furrow your brows and she raises hers, “What d- you do know that Sam deals.. right?”

You shake your head, “No.. he never t- Sam is a drug dealer?” You scoff as she nods and you look around, “That’s actually shocking.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t know.” She takes a drink and you point to her, “Is he who-“

“No, no. Josh only wants me going to his buddy.” She shrugs, “I don’t know. He’s weird about it.”

“Are him and Sam not friends?” You ask and she nods, “I mean, yeah. They had a falling out.” You laugh, “Maybe he doesn’t want you providing business to the competition.”

“You know, I never thought about that.” She laughs, “I can’t believe you didn’t know about Sam, does he know you smoke?”

“He has to, right?” You take a drink, “It’s not like I hide the fact that I’m not opposed to weed, you know?”

She shrugs, “I mean, how close are you and Sam?“

“Close enough to know that I like him.” You laugh and she nods, “Oh yeah. I know that.” She smirks, “Maybe you should go see him.”

“I can’t do that. He probably has people around him.” You look around, “I don’t even know where he is, usually he-“

You stop talking as a plastic knife slides against your neck, “Say one word..” Colby tries not to laugh, “and I’ll do it.”

“Hey Colby.” Mae laughs, “Please don’t kill my friend.”

“Alright, alright.” He steps back and moves to stand beside you, “Thanks for coming.” He slings his arm over your shoulder.

“Thanks for inviting us.” You look up at him, “What are you, a priest?”

“That I am.” He motions to his costume, “I don’t know why people can’t tell what I am. I’ve gotten a nun like four times.”

“Oh my god.” Mae laughs and you shake your head, “Hey, you know where I can get a joint or something?”

He nods, “Yeah, Sam’s upstairs. Last door on the right.”

“Why does everyone know Sam’s a dealer but me?” You scoff and roll your eyes, taking another swing of your drink.

“Everyone knows?” Colby laughs and Mae nods, “Literally.”

Colby looks down at you, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

You shake your head and walk away, debating on whether or not you wanted to just bite the bullet or not.

“Where are you going?” Mae walks up to you, “Are you really mad that-“

“No, I’m not.” You laugh, “I’m just, shocked that I didn’t know anything, like it’s actually surprising.”

She nods, “Yeah, Sam looks like such a good boy. I was shocked, too when Josh told me he was. I didn’t believe it at first.”

You bite the rim of your cup and Mae smirks, “Go.”

“Huh?” You look at her and she rolls her eyes, “Just go up. Colby told you where he was.”

“Yeah but-“

“Don’t.” She laughs, “Don’t sike yourself out. Just go.” She pushes you towards the steps and you sigh, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Good luck!” She calls from the bottom of the steps as you walks up. You shake your head with a laugh and stop at the top as you stare down the hall way.

You drink more than half your drink and walk down the purple lit hallway.

You come to the last door on the right and as you bring your hand up to knock, it opens and Jake stands there with a smirk, “Hey.”

The smell of weed punches you in the face and you smirk, “Hey, Jake. I’m looking for Sam.” He nods and motions behind him as he walks out, “He’s in there.”

“Thanks.” You push the door open and Sam is sitting over by the window, “Well look who it is.”

“You know that really isn’t doing a good job as getting rid of the smell, right?” You smile and Sam shrugs, “I didn’t think so. What are you doing here?” He leans over and ashes the joint out of the open window.

“Um, you invited me to your Halloween party, remember?”

“No, I mean..” he takes a drag, “Up here.”

“Oh.” You close the door and turn back towards him, “I heard you can help me out with something.”

“What’s your poison, sweetheart?”

You bite down on the inside of your lip and you shrug, “I just need some weed.”

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Didn’t know you dealt.”

He smiles, taking another drag, “Touché.”

You laugh walking over, “I ran out yesterday, but I figured I’d just get some-“ Sam cuts you off, “Who do you usually go to?”

“I usually hit up Marx.” You bring your cup to your lips and he shakes his head, “Not anymore. You come to me.” Sam stands up, handing you the joint, “I’ll take care of you.”

You smirk, bringing the joint to your lips and taking in a much needed drag, “That a promise?” You ask as you exhale and you close your eyes, “I-I, uh, didn’t- fuck.”

“I mean..” Sam chuckles, “Yeah, yeah I guess.”

You smile and take another drag, walking over to the window to ash it, “How long have you been doing this?” You turn around and lean against it, looking up at him as he walks back over to you.

“Uh, a few years. Three maybe? I don’t know. I lost track a while ago.” He laughs, leaning up against the wall next to you.

You nod, the high feelings settling in quickly, “Yeah, that’s about how long I’ve been smoking.”

“It’s actually-“ he shakes his head as you offer him the joint back, “Crazy how we didn’t know this about each other.”

You nod, “Right. When Colby told me I could find you up here I-“

“Jumped at the opportunity?” He jokes and you roll your eyes, “Actually, I hesitated because I thought we were friends.”

“Huh?” He laughs and you take the last drag before putting it out, “I thought friends were supposed to tell friends stuff.”

“I mean, yeah.. but you never asked.” Sam shrugs and you tilt your head, “Fair.”

“Honestly, if I knew for a fact that you smoked, I would have offered to smoke you up a few times by now.” Sam smirks, “Do you-“

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” He brings a new joint to his lips and flicks the lighter on. You watch as he inhales as he brings the lighter down and you forget that he can tell you’re staring.

“Do you.. like what you see, or..” Sam smirks as he exhales the smoke and you nod, knowing your lies will be completely transparent, “Yeah, actually. I do.”

You keep your eyes on him as he brings the joint up to your lips.

You wrap your lips around the end, taking a drag before he pulls it away, “You’re so pretty when you’re high.”

You fight back a smile as you turn your head to blow the smoke out of the window, “You think?” You look back at him and he nods, taking a drag of his own, “More like..” he exhales, “I know.”

He steps closer and you go weak.

Your knees buckle and he wraps his arm around your waist, “Let’s get you away from the window.” He laughs as he leads you over to the couch and he sits down next to you, “How are you feeling?”

“So much better.” You lean back, resting your head along the top edge, “Thank you.”

He nods, taking another drag, “anytime, y/n.”

Just go for it.

Just do it.

Kiss him.

Your body reacts before you can think over your thoughts fully. You lean over, pushing his hand from his lips and you plant yours on his.

He reacts by laying his free hand on the back of your head and kisses your back.

You move your body to straddle him, kissing back his jaw and down his neck.

“Fuck..” he breathes out, “What took you so long?”

You shrug as you sit up, “Guess I finally built up enough confidence.” You smirk, biting down onto your lip. Sam smirks, bringing the joint to his lips, “I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes, smirking as he pulls you back into him.

There’s a knock on the door and Sam sighs against your lips, leaning back to yell, “Not now!”

“C’mon man. I need somethin’!”

You look down at Sam and nod, “Go ahead. I can wait.”

Sam cups your cheek and sighs, “I’ll be quick.” He leans up, pecking your lips before you move off of him. You watch as he walks over to the door and cracks it open, “What do you need?”

“Like an eighth or so.”

“Give me a minute.” Sam closes the door again and walks over to the desk. You spin around, watching as he glides through his process. After a few minutes, he walks over to you, placing a new joint in between your lips and handing you his lighter.

You light it, watching as he walks back over to the door, “Sixty.” He reaches out, taking the money before nodding, “Thanks.” He closes it, locking it, and then turns towards you, “Alright. Now that that’s taken care of.”

He walks back over to you, kissing you as he lays you back on the couch, “I want you to relax for me.” He takes the joint from your fingers, eyes on you as you exhale awhile giving him a nod.

He pushes up the skirt to your costume and bites his lip, “You’re so hot.”

You smirk, spreading your thighs as you bend your knees up, “So are you.”

He chuckles and shakes his head as he holds the joint between his lips. His hands slide down your thighs and his fingers hook over your panties.

He pulls them down over your hips and up and down your legs. He drops them to the floor and pulls the joint from his lips as he sighs, “You have such a pretty pussy.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up and your heart starts to pound as his hand inches closer and closer to your clit.

He takes another drag, his thumb pressing to your clit which earns a moan from you. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours before he exhales.

You inhale the smoke and moan as he slips a finger into your achy cunt, “F-fuck.” You breath out, “More, Sam. Please.”

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He leans up, taking another drag, and you whine as he slowly adds in a second finger, “Only.. for you.”

“Only for me?” He tilts his head as he exhales and you nod, “Only for you, baby.”

He smirks and glances down to watch his fingers slowly thrusts in and out, “You’re so wet already, goddamn, babe.”

Your jaw falls slack as whines spill out, your eyes staying on him as he continues to take drags from the burning joint between his fingers.

Your hand slides down between your thighs, your fingers pressing to your clit to draw circles.

“You close, sweetheart?” Sam asks as he leans forward, stretching to place the done joint in the ashtray. He looks down at you and you nod, “Y-yes.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then temple, cheek, then finally your lips, “you sound so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You moan more, your hand sliding up his chest to grip the collar of his sweatshirt, “Fuck, Sam.” You whimper as your walls tighten around his fingers, “I-“

“You got it, baby. Let go.”

Your eyes roll back and moans leave your lips in a constant string. His fingers guide you through as your hand slowly comes to a stop on your clit.

“Fuck, fuck.” You gasp out, your thighs tightening around his arm, “Sam!”

His fingers come to a slow stop as your legs relax, falling outward and you look up at him with a smile, “Are we done?”

He shakes his head, “Not even close.”

He moves to stand up, pushing down his joggers, and boxers, before sitting down, “C’mere.” He reaches over, grabbing your hand to pull you up.

You move over, swinging your leg over his lap and straddling him once again. Your hands go to the side of his neck as you lean in to kiss him.

The kiss is heated, kinda sloppy.

You both are moaning and his hands are pawing at your hips and ass, “Sit, baby. Please.” He tilts his head back as you kiss down his neck, “Fuck.”

You move your hips, sucking a spot into his skin as his cock slides against your folds.

“D-don’t tease me.” He chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening, “Please.”

You kiss up to his lips, pausing as you slide down onto him, your gasps mixing together.

You start to move up and down, his arms wrapping fully around as his one hand rests on your ass, “Fuck, yeah, baby. Just like that.”

You tilt your head back, “oh my god.”

There’s another knock on the door and a jiggle of the handle and Sam groan as he looks over at the door, “Fuck me.”

You turn his head back towards you, “I am.” You crash your lips onto his and he slides a hand up to your hair.

You moan as he tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling as he thrusts upward.

“Yo, Sam! You in there?!” Colby yells and before Sam can yell back, you lay your hand on his cheek, “Ignore him.”

You press your lips to his and he leans over, laying you down on the couch.

“You feel so fucking good.” He moans against your lips, his thrusts picking up, “fuck, fuck.” He kisses up your neck and moans lowly in your ear, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your back lifts up off the couch, your moans growing louder as you feel a second orgasm making its way around, “Fuck, fuck, yesyesyes.”

Your legs tighten around him, your fingers slipping under his hoodie to dig your nails into his skin, “Oh my god.”

Everything was heightened, you felt like you were floating. Stars were forming behind your eyelids and all you could do was whine.

“So fucking good.” Sam groans deeply, “so f-fucking good, baby.” His lips attach to yours, moving in a heated embrace as he swallows your moans that slip through.

“M’close..” he grunts, his thrusts flipping to a sloppier pace, “where do-“

“Sit.. sit down.” You press your hands to his chest, pushing him upward. He leans up, pulling out of you to sit down and you quickly slide to the floor, positioning yourself between his knees.

You waste no time leaning up and taking his soaked cock into your mouth. Your head bobs up and down as your tongue flicks at the tip.

“Holy.. fuuuck.” He groans out, his hand moving to the back of your head, “J-just like that, baby.” He bucks his hips and you push your head down more, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel his cum shoot into your throat.

You lift up, bobbing slowly as he comes down, and you lean back, licking your lips as you give him a smile.

He shakes his head, his brows raised as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “I think I just fell in love with you.”

You laugh, “Can’t say I haven’t been so..”

“What? In love with me?” Sam asks as stands up to fix himself. He glances over as you bend down to pick up your panties from the floor, “I mean, yeah. I can’t lie to you.” You laugh, “I’ve always had a thing for you, like I’ve said.”

“Finally just had enough confidence to say something.” He teases and you roll your eyes, “Uh huh. Just like you knew I would.”

You smirk as you slip your panties back on and he walks over to you, “Top drawer of the desk, there’s a thing of joints. Get one and relax.” He pecks your lips, “I’ll be right back.”

“Gotta go see what Colby wants?” You ask as you walk over to the desk, and he nods, “Yep.”

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

Thank you so much for reading. I love you so much. I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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zepskies · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! Could I request Soldier boys reaction to his gf slapping his ass 😭😭 like he's just walks by her in the comfort of their own home and she just... does it

🤣🥴 LMFAO. Bless you for this ask, my dear. It turned into a full on "imagine" scene instead of just bullet points. (And I think you sent me another imagine! I'll work on that one next. 😘)

Here we go…

Word Count: 550

Imagine: Repaying him for a job well done.

He was just standing there, doing the dishes.

You didn’t know why you liked it so much. You had cooked, so it was only fair that he cleaned up the kitchen. (Or such was one of the ground rules you'd set when you two moved in together.)

Maybe it was because he was actually following said rule. Maybe it was because your boyfriend was washing a damn dish without you asking.

Maybe it was the exquisite ratio of broad shoulders, straining under his simple shirt, to a tapered waist and a pinnacle of strong, jean-clad legs.

“Hey, you got any dishes over there?” Ben called to you, over his shoulder.

You took that moment to drain the last of your wine glass with one bracing sip.

“Yep,” you said, popping the “P.”

But when you didn’t join him in the kitchen, Ben finally looked over at you. His brow shot up when you raised the glass, twirling it around from your recline on the living room couch.

“You really expect me to go over there and get it?” he said.

“Please?” You wiggled your bare toes on the couch and held onto your throw blanket. “My lower back hurts…you know, from all those hours I put into making a loving, home-cooked meal.”

Ben shot you a look of annoyance. You gave him a pair of imploring doe eyes; you both knew it was an act, but somehow, it still worked on him…most of the time.

Your mouth twitched at a smile when he finally came over to grab your glass. He plucked it out of your hand with a shake of his head. (And a look on his face that said you were lucky beyond fucking belief that he put up with you.)

So when he turned to leave, you really couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned over and gave him a nice smack on the ass for his efforts.

Ben was surprised enough to stop short. His hand flinched on reflex, actually cracking the wine glass. It was just a fraction of his super strength, but the glass soon shattered over his hand and onto the hardwood floor.

His hand was fine, of course, but his brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what the hell just happened.

You bit your lip, but a snort of amusement still escaped. Ben slowly turned to you.

“Fucking proud of yourself, are you?” he asked, with a wry raise of his brow. Still his lips threatened to curve upwards.

“A bit, yeah,” you admitted. Your little smirk made his green eyes narrow.

“Okay,” he nodded. Then he turned and swiftly yanked the throw blanket off your body, before all but tackling you onto the couch.

You squealed and pushed at the iron wall of his chest, but it didn’t make a damn difference. Ben trapped you underneath him, caging your hips between his thighs, and sunk a firm hand in your hair.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was gravel and sin, and it made a pleasant tingle run down your spine. You still had the audacity to smirk in his face.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you quipped. Your nails dragged down his chest teasingly, all the way to his belt.

Ben huffed. “We’ll just fucking see, won’t we?”

He then captured you with a searing kiss that made your toes curl.

AN: I love doing these SB imagines/headcanons! 😘

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

If you prefer not to be tagged on imagines, just let me know. 😉

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @romaka344 @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @ades106 @chernayawidow @beskarfilms

#ask me stuff #soldier boy #slapping dat ass #Soldier Boy imagine #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy headcanon #zepskies answers

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alicerosejensen · 11 months ago

Text

Something about sin. Pt.1

Synopsis: Leon is ready to rip all these damn feelings out of himself and tell himself over and over again that he needs a good fuck. You're too young and too cute for him. Leon knows that he shouldn't even touch you, but then why are you tearing all the sinful essence out of him?

Warning: no erotica but it is mentioned; Older!Leon; Innocent Reader; Fem/reader; age difference; Leon is tormented by his conscience; Old man/young girl; Mentions of sex; in fact (in this chapter) the reader does not view Leon as a love/sexual interest; The reader is the daughter of another DSO agent.

A/N: I apologize for any mistakes. I really like the idea of dark Leon, but I don’t want to make him look like a bastard).

Feedback is welcome. If you want to point out mistakes or scold me, please do so in a gentle manner.

Part 2

This was wrong...

But 'Wrong' is not the word that could describe how he feels every time he sees you. One slightest appearance and Leon immediately feels like Humbert from Nabokov’s novel “Lolita,” who ruined the life of a little girl, well, the only difference is that you seem to be 19-20 years old, and not 14. Actually, it’s already wrong to want you, given that huge fact that you...don’t give him any reason.

You don't wag your pretty ass in front of him, you don't wear revealing clothes, and damn you're a victim of his sinful thoughts! When the fuck did this start?

The day he saw you might have been the right answer. This was the day when his colleague, the only one in the DSO besides Hannigan and Helena, sympathized with him and believed that what was standing in front of him was not a cold-blooded killer of the president, but the same Leon who would rather take a bullet and give his life than kill the one he was supposed to protect. The clarification of all the circumstances and the justification of his innocence dragged on for a long time, maybe that’s why your father then simply wanted to show an act of friendship and support by inviting him to a family dinner? Returning back, Leon thinks that it would be better if he went through hell again.

Leon immediately realized that the dinner was arranged primarily for him. Fried chicken with sides, a light salad, your mom made appetizers and even made a casserole. One is too many for him. The icing on the cake was when your father opened an expensive bottle of wine. He immediately felt awkward about this, after all, who was he to be bothered with so much, but you...

"Mr. Kennedy, what do you want? Maybe a salad? The thin sound of your voice almost made him feel weak. Your beautiful hands held the salad bowl, and almost as if on cue, you were ready to fill his plate with whatever he wanted. And those doe eyes looked at him so sweetly.

Leon could have sworn that at that moment some kind of blessing...or curse came down to him. He doesn't even remember what you were wearing. Some kind of brown blouse with jeans? He didn’t even pay attention to it, his eyes were completely focused on your pretty face. It was rubbish. You yourself were old enough to be his daughter and, as was said earlier, you didn’t even give him a hint to think that you were not indifferent to him. Actually, at dinner, when you were sitting between your parents opposite him, Leon saw how uncomfortable you were. You ate almost nothing and didn’t say anything, and an hour later you ran upstairs to your room, citing the fact that you hadn’t finished some task yet.

And your father quickly let you go, so you quickly jumped up the stairs like a rabbit, running away from his insidious gaze.

Maybe he just needed to let off some steam, he decided. In fact, it is not very often that there are women in his house who can spend at least a night with him. Last time it was Ada, and sex with her was too rough and fast. He cum almost as soon as she found herself in his arms, and for some reason Leon at that moment was not thinking about her, but about how it would anger Simmons, who believed that Kennedy was not worthy of her. However, it was true.

It seems like it's starting to become a habit, wanting women he doesn't deserve. At least Ada herself comes to him and Leon knows that she will not demand anything from him, they have never even had dinner together, and what did they do together besides sex, battles and flirting? That's right, nothing. But he has even less interaction with you.

Ada's black hair is too short, unlike yours, which could fall all over him if you were sleeping on his chest in this bed right now. But Ada never laid her head on his chest and always left unnoticed, leaving behind a barely perceptible trail of perfume. You wouldn't have left, Leon thinks, looking at the ceiling, ignoring the brown gaze of the woman he's been crazy about for so many years. Why is he comparing you and Ada at all? Two women who don't look like each other at all, which makes damn sense. You don't have to be like this! Your father would rather put his neck under the axe than allow his daughter to serve in the DSO or any other service, but in any case, you do not aspire there.

As a result, a woman will always understand when someone else settles in her man's head and Ada just smiles slyly moving closer to him, but all Leon hears is the rustle of a blanket.

"Well, who is she?"

As always, there was no hint of jealousy. Ada is the epitome of calm and composure, but Leon really doesn't know what to answer her.

After all, you are nobody and at the same time you have planted strong roots in his head.

"She?"

He pretends not to understand her, but Ada has long figured him out. For her, he will always remain a rookie cop.

"Yes." She still smiles, resting her head on her hand while lying on her side, "Who is this 'Jolene' What took my puppy away from me?"

Leon grins, but at the same time he feels an unpleasant ache in his chest from her words. Puppy... of course, he remained that way, and Ada was good at getting to the bottom of it, and yet she did not say that he was her lover, because there is no love between them as such.

"There is no 'Jolene' in my life and it is unlikely that there will be," he said wearily, reaching out to hug her, but contrary to expectation, he did not feel the desired warmth, and the itch inside grew like a wild beast intending to get only one thing - you.

In the morning, Ada disappeared as usual, and Leon was not even surprised. But instead of a paper airplane with a lipstick imprint on the kitchen table, he found a small note, folded in half, where only one thing was written: “I think you really need a family. You should think about it."

Maybe Ada really was right, but if she knew your age, she would obviously look at him with bewilderment, thinking that somewhere on the mission he was hit hard on the head. On the other hand, maybe she would have sarcastically joked that the older a man gets, the more he wants to have a young girlfriend instead of the old one, although he wouldn’t dare call Ada old.

Besides, you were supposed to remain only in his head and Leon could only hope that one day he would simply forget about you. For example, fucking with a random girl from a bar, but bad luck, against his own will, closing his eyes, Leon still wanted you. As if you were the one clinging to his back with your nails, leaving bloody streaks marking him and screaming his name. Complete crap.

You live your quiet life, not knowing what a zombie is, in complete material wealth and parental love. When your second meeting with Leon happens, he sees that you are dressed in some kind of wide sundress and are trying to drag something heavy alone, although dad strictly ordered you not to do this, but you, as a caring daughter, did not listen to him because wanted your father to do something other than hard work instead of carrying those heavy boxes out of the barn. The fact that you yourself were barely coping, not very successfully, was ignored by you.

Leon couldn't look at it calmly. He himself told you twice to leave the boxes, but you just snorted offended at him.

"Spoiled girl"

You want to prove something to someone, although this will most likely harm your health and force your father to fork out for doctors and medicine, so Leon, not paying attention to your snorting face, took the load from you and carried it into the house, leaving you with only light boxes.

In fact, no matter how hard Leon tries to convince himself that he just needs a break, your game keeps cutting him like a knife. If he were 21 years old again and he could get to know you before Raccoon, you could hum beautiful lyrical poems about how a boy fell in love with a girl and the whole world around him changed. As if you could be those two stupid lovers who burn alive in their love until finally they become disgusted with each other, although more and more often Leon realizes that in his loyalty and devotion only he would disgust you, not you from him. He would be your devoted puppy, as he has always been for Ada.

You would be everything to him.

Or already?

Is it right to look at a young girl like that when he is almost an old man himself? Why don't you have some annoying boyfriend with whom you can constantly text and chat on the phone thinking that this is the love of your life? And why can't he just throw you out of his head?!

"Mr. Kennedy" the way his last name comes off your tongue makes him almost rush to you and take you somewhere far away where no one would find you. However, Leon is disgusted by the idea that he will be the cause of fear and tears of an innocent girl who is completely innocent of what is happening in his unhealthy head. To tell the truth, it's not even lust… No, of course he feels physically attracted, but first there is some kind of dog instinct maturing inside to protect you from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE.

Then you started awkwardly calling his name and he just became Leon, always smiling when you ask him for something or just out of politeness ask how he is, whereas in fact you don't really care what's going on in his life. At least that's what he thinks, not really knowing what thoughts are going through your head.

Leon can't possibly know that you want someone older. Just a little colder so that you can become someone's secret, because even though you're young, you're of age. And yet you're watching these weird love movies that Leon thinks are sweeter than the cheapest chocolate and probably the books on the shelves have similar plots. A love to fight for. Disgusting rubbish, really.

But your smile is getting softer and Leon feels like he's giving up.

But Ada really understands that she is finished. Your beauty is incomparable, and even though she smiles in Leon's face, her heart also breaks apart when he says another woman's name in a dream. Huh, women…girls. How easily were you able to get hold of someone she's been involved with for so long.

In fact, it's a shame and Ada also understands that the years of youth are merciful to you, unlike her, and in fact you grabbed Leon's leash and there's no point in begging to find another man. Besides, Leon himself has always been eager for normality, for what he can build with an ordinary civilian girl. You will be a faithful girl to him, and he will be yours.

Someone else always comes. Younger and more beautiful. In Leon's case, meeting someone like you was also a well-deserved reward, so their nights are becoming increasingly rare and have long lost their passion. The only thing Ada doesn't understand is why you won't pull the leash on yourself. However, this question quickly disappears when she finds out that Leon stubbornly drowns his feelings in whiskey, in her and other women, who, though few, still have them. And then, like a faithful dog, he runs up to you just to wag his tail at the sight of you.

In the end, Ada doesn't even back down, but just waits for Leon to draw a line between them that can no longer be crossed. And waiting for you to lie on these soft pillows instead of her, like his beloved princess, or climb onto his lap and his lips will leave kisses on your neck. Leon deserves you. He deserves his share of happiness in a world where the government has turned him into a perfect weapon against bioterrorism.

Leon's touch is becoming more and more relaxed and you are not afraid of his wide chest, given your size difference. He could have easily swatted you, but for God's sake, Leon S Kennedy would rather put a bullet in their brains than hurt you. You hug him, listening to the pounding in your chest when he gives you an obscenely expensive Christmas present and drinks hot chocolate with you. No, Leon likes sweets, but in moderation. All those bright ribbons, the Christmas tree… not for him, but if you were in his house now, he would decorate his apartment for you and then hug you for several hours, nuzzling your head hoping that his phone would remain quiet.

Leon wants to put you in his bed, he's even ready to be your sugar daddy and get punched in the face by your dad knowing that you're going to grab onto him, but he just wants you. Like a stupid old dog who wants to be petted by a new owner. And Leon is sure that he will die of longing if you don't do it. The fact that you still don't have a boyfriend is just comforting, but anxiety grows when your father tells him that he's worried that his beloved daughter isn't interested in boys her own age.

"Anyone older?" your father says rhetorically while helping Leon fix his bike, "Buddy, I don't want an old man like you or me to become my son-in-law."

"But this way you'll have something to talk about," Leon grins, feeling that he has everything to step on the gas.

And he will take the risk again, even if it means a broken nose.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil leon #older leon kennedy #Older!Leon s Kennedy

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thecuriousbeauty · 2 months ago

Text

Traitor-The Present (Harry Styles au- Mafia!Harry x reader)

Chapter Seven

Synopsis:- y/n gets back glimpses of the past and tries to piece them together with the help of her once best friend, Oliver, who's somehow sure that she's going to find a way out of the mess she's in. Meanwhile, Harry fights with his own emotions to make a decision. He has to choose one. The love of his life or the gang.

Word count: 7.2K

Warnings: Blood, violence, smoking, alcohol, gang related talk, guns, fighting, killing. Smut. Spitting, oral(f receiving), fingering, praise, dirty talk.

A/N:- Here it is finally, the last part to Traitor-The Present! If you're new and wish to check out this story, you can read the whole series right here. Please like and re-blog to support me. Happy reading:)

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y/n wakes up with her heart racing out of her chest. Her dream had finally shown her a little more. It was just another glimpse, but now she knew Harry wasn’t lying. She really was there with him that night and she was trying to kill him. She had the same question Harry had, why?

The only person who knew the answer to that was herself. She felt so angry, she wanted to pull out her hair and scream at her brain for letting her fall into this mess.

"We're here."

Oliver had driven her to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. There no other buildings, people or even trees, around it. All that she could see was stretches of barren land surrounding the warehouse. Oliver opens the door, motioning for her to get out.

"W-Where are we?", she asks him.

"Your place to stay for the night. Harry wants to keep you here until he figures out what to do with you.", Oliver says, keeping his hand on her arm as he ushers her to walk. She realized how exhausted she was. It was like she could crumble to the floor any minute.

"How nice of him.", she mutters, and Oliver gives her a look, opening the door of the warehouse and rushing her in, before closing the door behind him.

"A few men will stand guard outside, to make sure you don't escape, but no one's going to come inside except me.", Oliver takes a small key out of his pocket. "I'm going to remove your cuffs. Harry's order was to keep you in cuffs, and not give you an ounce of water or food, but I'm not so evil."

She sighs in relief as the handcuffs click and they're removed. She rubbed her bruised wrists and looked around at the little space. It was so dark. Not even a single light bulb. She figured it was a place where they held people hostage. There were a few sheets in a corner and a pillow.

"There's a toilet there.", Oliver points out, and she crinkles her nose. Everything was so small.

"Why couldn't he just kill me already?", she mumbles, and opens the tap, washing her face with the cold water.

Oliver prefers to ignore her and looks outside the window, before pulling down the shades. "So? Do you have a plan?"

"Unless it involves you getting me out of here, no.", she says, tying her hair up into a bun, and then laying the sheets on the floor. She sits over the sheets although they didn't do much to stop the cold from spreading through her body.

"Why do you care, anyway?", she snaps at Oliver.

"I told you why, already.", Oliver sighs, crouching down to meet her eyes. "I will take a bullet for you, Reagen. Even if you don't know who you are."

The name didn't sound so foreign anymore.

"I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you.", Oliver says, as she wraps her arms around her knees and looks at him. "I can't get you out of here. Harry will know in an instant, he has eyes everywhere. He'll just have both of us killed. But you're a fucking warrior, Reagen."

A warrior? She didn't feel like one. "Make a plan, you have time. Be smart, don't get killed."

She opens and closes her mouth, then someone knocks on the door. Oliver looks through the keyhole before opening it. "No one saw me getting the food, perimeter's going to be covered soon. They're on the way from Marco's now."

"Good job, Sam. Keep guard.", Oliver takes the parcel from the other girl's hands. "Yes boss."

He shuts the door and hands y/n the parcel and a bottle of water. "Food and water."

"Won't you get in trouble if Harry gets to know?", she asks, but opens it. She was starving.

"Nah, he won't know."

He cracks a small smile as she gulps down the bottle of water. The food was some sort of flavored rice with meat. It was delicious.

She wanted to tell him about what she remembered from the dream, but she still had some trust issues. So she thought to keep it to herself, for now.

Oliver took the empty container and bottle with him. "I won't be coming inside now. If it's urgent, knock on the door three times, alright?"

"Okay.", she nods. "Oliver?"

He turns back, and she gives him a small smile. "I can see why we were best friends. Thank you."

"Treat you with respect is the least I can do for everything you've done for me, Reagen.", Oliver says, and goes out, locking the door.

y/n wipes her tears, sitting there alone in the dark. She had to think like Reagen, even though she didn't have the memories back. Oliver was right, she had to be smart and get out of this mess. She had no will to live but she wasn't going to die in the hands of these horrible people.

_____________________________________

Harry was angry.

All he could see was red, wherever he looked. He had been through enough crap and he couldn't take anymore. His whole childhood was a nightmare. After he had killed his father and put his childhood behind him, he should have just lead a normal lifestyle of a doctor. But no, he met the gang, and he loved doing their side jobs. They were the only people who recognized his various talents and coached him with more.

Then came Reagen. Harry still remembers the memory of meeting her.

Harry was going through some files of Dante's, able to access them because he had hacked into their system. He had no idea who Dante was, or what he did to their gang, all he was told, was to hack into some important files. Harry couldn't even figure out if those were the right ones, he was new to all of this.

"Is it done, Harry?", Luke Alexander asks him as he walks over to where Harry was sitting beside two other guys, who were also typing away on their computers.

"Yes, um, is this the one?", Harry asks, as Luke leans to see. Harry tells him about the details in the files, and Luke grins, patting his shoulder. "Nice job. Reagen will be delighted, that's some good information there."

"Thanks..uh what exactly did Dante do?", Harry asks Luke, and the older man sighs, running his hand over his salt and pepper beard. "A lot of horrible things. You don't want to know. Can you transfer all these files to this drive?"

Luke gives him a pen drive and Harry nods. "Sure."

"Luke! There's a problem.", he hears someone shout from the door way. Luke patted Harry on the back before he left. Harry was a newbie to the gang, so he hadn't met Reagen yet. Luke was whom he communicated with. He joined the gang as a doctor, so that's what he did. He took care of members who came back from missions injured. When he got bored, he made hacking chips, sorted through files, and did the technical work for the gang since he was good at that sort of thing.

But Harry had a lot of pent up anger, and he wanted to get his anger out by fighting, or punching something other than the gym bag. He thought he could go on missions if he joined the gang, but they don't take just everyone. Only people who have experience.

Soon, he hears people shouting and gearing up to go on a mission. Luke was shouting orders. Harry finished copying the files, kept the pendrive safe, grabbed his medical kit and joined the others.

"What's going on?", he asks one of the guys.

"Reagen called for backup. They think she might be in trouble."

Harry nods, and hopes no one sees him going along, but Oliver saw him, who was throwing guns into their truck. "Where are you going? We have Abbot with us.", he says. Abbot was another doctor in the gang, he was the one going with them on missions because of his experience. He can fight as well.

"I can help.", Harry tells him. Oliver narrows his eyes at him, thinking. "I really want to. I'll stay safe and help anyone who gets hurt. Please."

"Fine, your own death wish. Get in."

Harry let a small smile escape before he got in the truck with the others. He hears loud explosions and gun shots as they reach the location. Everyone runs out holding their weapons, to different directions into the old building. Harry followed Abbot's lead. They helped their people who got wounded, and got them out of trouble.

Abbot and Harry were helping a guy who got shot in his abdomen, and was losing blood quickly. Harry suspected it might have pierced an internal organ.

"More lap pads.", Abbot mumbles, gloved hands covered in blood, as he holds pressure. Just as Harry turned to grab some more lap pads, he saw a guy holding a baseball bat, right behind Abbot.

"Abbot watch out!", Harry yelled, and one of Abbot's hand moved to his gun and fired a shot at the guy before he swung the bat. "Fucking prick.", Abbot curses, turning back to his friend, bleeding out. They both hear a scream coming from down the hall.

"I'll go check that out. You should take him to the truck, quick.", Harry tells Abbot.

"Stay safe.", Abbot tells him, and Harry nods, getting his bloody gloves off before walking towards the scream. Harry threaded carefully, trying to figure out from which direction he heard the scream from.

"On your knees, hands in the air!"

Harry freezes as he hears it from behind him. He does as told, as the man has a gun pointed at him. "I might make your death less painful if you tell me why that bitch was here.", the man seethes, pressing the gun to Harry's forehead.

"I don't know anything.", Harry said, staying still, his heart beating fast.

"Well then I just have to-"

Harry closes his eyes and flinches as hears the gun shot, but the bullet didn't go through him. Harry opens his eyes slowly, and sees a girl looking down at the now dead guy in disgust.

"Looks ugly with or without a bullet through his fucking forehead." She looks up at Harry. "You okay?"

Harry had never seen someone so strikingly beautiful. Long hair falling down her shoulders, beautiful eyelashes hiding her striking eyes. She was wearing a wine red dress that hugged her curves, exposing her collarbones and smooth legs. Red heels covered her feet.

"You're wondering why I'm dressed like this.", the girl says, eyes going around the room to check for other threats, her arms held out, still pointing the gun. That wasn't Harry's first thought, but now that she mentioned it, he nods.

"Well my idea was to seduce that ugly lame excuse of a man while I try to get some files we need." She lowered the gun, eyeing Harry now. He was curious to know about what went wrong, he could see how any man would fall for the woman's charm. Now she stood in front of him with messy hair, a busted lip and bruised knees, but he still thought she was the most attractive woman he's seen in his life.

"You're injured.", is the first thing he says. She chooses to ignore his remark. "You would be dead, just like him with a fucking bullet through your head if I didn't get here when I did. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I um, I'm the doctor with the gang.."

"I know, you're the newbie right? Doctor by profession, hacker by hobby.", she says, sighing as they hear a gunshot from a meter away. She would usually run towards it, but something drew her to the doctor. She wanted to know more about him. He had an air of mystery lingering around him.

"I can do a lot more than hacking and saving people.", Harry mumbles.

"Is that why you're here on a mission? We don't send newbies out unless it's an emergency, which this wasn't. I almost had it under control. I told Luke just to send a few men.", she mutters to herself, wincing as she looks down at her ankles in the heels. "Bloody hell."

"Reagen Jones.", Harry understands who she is finally, putting everything together.

"One and only.", she gave him a crooked little smile as he finally walks away from the dead body. "Now come on, Doctor, let's get you to safety. I can't risk getting my people hurt."

"It's okay when you're hurt?", Harry asks, following her as she walks out of the room, looking left and right bringing her gun up again. "I've had worse, doc.", she whispered and her head snapped to the left as she heard footsteps but it was only Oliver.

"He fled. We checked the whole place, no traces of him, or-" He gives Harry an annoyed look. "You know what.", he tells Reagen. She sighed, shaking her head. "I should have been more careful."

"Don't blame yourself, it was dangerous. You did good.", Oliver said, squeezing her shoulder. "Go to the car, I'm gonna look over once again. This guy getting in your way?"

He looked at Harry like he was an annoying child. Reagen let out a small laugh, and Harry wished he could hear more of it. "He's fine. Be careful, Olie."

Oliver nodded, walking past them up the stairs to the next floor, shouting orders to their men. "Why did you join the gang, doc?", Reagen asks Harry as they walk out of the ruined building. Harry thought he would be fazed after seeing men groaning in pain on the floor, bleeding and some of them already dead, but it didn't affect him as much.

"My father tortured my mom when I was little and he'd beat me up. He was an alcoholic, good for nothing, never a father to me. He abused my mom, and one day when I wasn't there he-"

Harry stops talking as his fingers curl into his palm, eyes blazing in anger. Reagen turns back to look at him, and he releases a slow breath. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it.", she says, nodding towards the car. A man was already opening the door for her. "Ride with me."

Harry got in the backseat with her, watching as she wrapped herself in a jacket, closing her eyes for a moment as she let her head rest. Harry thought to remain quiet, even though he had questions. What if he wouldn't see or get to talk to Reagen up close like this again?

"You tried your best to protect your mother, doc. You made sure your dad got what he deserved. I'm sure your mom's still looking down at you from above.", Reagen turned to look at him. Harry wanted to believe her. He should have killed that asshole before he got a chance to do that to his mother.

"I'll talk to Luke about putting you on missions, it'll help with releasing some of that anger.", she says, and his eyes light up. "You will?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Killing your father was out of pure torment, but in some situations like today, we might be forced to take lives. Are you up for that?"

"Yes.", he answers immediately. "I thought killing him would feel better, but I still stay up at night without being able to sleep. I need to get it all out. I want to learn to defend myself, I couldn't when my father hit me. Will you teach me?"

Reagen didn't mingle with newbies, neither did she interact with anyone other than close people in the gang. They made sure her orders were carried out. But there was something about this boy she couldn't shake away. "Sure. What's your name?"

"Harry.", Harry answers. "Harry Styles."

"Harry?"

Romania enters the room to talk to him. Harry was sitting on the chair behind his desk, cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other hand. Romania had just been back from Marco's place, and she looked alright, except for a bruise on her arm. She was pressing a cloth to hold pressure to it.

"We think we got a lead on Tony. Hans went through Marco's files. He's planning to meet Omar next week.", Romania tells him. Harry was not interested. Yes, Tony was their number one enemy and he was the one person he wanted to tear apart with his own hands, but right now, he could only think about Reagen, or y/n, or whatever she calls herself.

Harry played their stupid memory game hoping that she would get her memories back eventually, or at least make her drop the act if that's what she was doing. But Harry was clear about that now. It wasn't an act. Even the intimate moments they shared didn't bring her memories back. He felt so hurt.

"Um, Harry?"

He looks up at Romania. "What happened?", he asks, nodding towards the blood seeping into the cloth she was pressing to it.

"Oh, fucker got a cut on me before I shot him down, could you take a look at it?"

"Sit."

Harry gets up to grab his medical kit. Romania sits on the edge of his desk, studying her friend. "Are you thinking about Reagen?"

Harry nods, washing his hands before snapping on some gloves. "I get it, you were close to her. But, you agreed to let her go if this also failed.", Romania reminds him, as Harry grabs a pair of scissors, cutting through her sleeve so he could see the injury. Harry only wanted to cut open the cloth that covered her arm, but she used her good arm to shrug off the rest of the material, leaving her upper half in just a bra. Harry focuses on the injury, much to Romania’s dismay.

"She's too dangerous! What if Tony gets to her?"

"I'm aware, Ro.", Harry mutters, pressing on the broken skin making Romania flinch. "Don't tell me you had a change of heart and you're not going to kill her.", she says.

Harry grabs a bottle of antiseptic. "I'm still deciding."

Romania rolls her eyes, hissing as he cleans her wound with the antiseptic. "She's a vicious monster, that's what she is. First, she brought you under her charm, then she planned to kill you, take our money and destroy our empire. I don't know why you trusted her in the first place."

Harry didn’t say anything, he reached for a needle and some surgical thread to close the cut with some stitches. "It was all part of some big plan. As much as I'd love to know as well, she's not going to remember, Harry. At least let me have my way with her. I'll have her in the basement for one day and she'll start singing like a bird-ah!"

Harry sows her skin together, looking up to give her a glare. "You will not touch her. I can do that too, but it's not fair to torture something out of a person who doesn't remember anything about it in the first place."

"She's playing you, Harry.", Romania sighs. "If you don't kill her, you're going to let her win. If her ties are with Tony, then we're pretty much done for. She is banking on you. She knows you can't kill her. She'll get away, Harry. You've assigned Oliver to her! Don't you remember how close they were? He'll let her escape!"

"I trust Oliver.", Harry finishes the stitches. He grabs a bandage to lay over it. "You're done.", he says, taking his gloves off.

"Thank you.", Romania mumbles and reaches for him. She moved her hands up Harry’s neck, weaving one hand into his Harry. "Harry, I'm telling you this because I care about you. I know your emotions are messed up because of your last month together again, kissing her, fucking her-"

"-Romania.", Harry warns.

"-You wish you could go back to that.", Romania continues, stroking his bottom lip with her thumb. "The truth is, you don't need her. There are so many better women who will be loyal to you. Who'll die for you, who will do anything for you.”

She got so close, her breasts were brushing against Harry’s chest and almost popping out of her bra. But, he didn’t feel anything. The only thing he could think of was how good Reagen could make him feel.

“Oh fuck, Harry..”, she moans as she lets her head hit back against the pillow, her hands in his hair as he laps his tongue over her clit.

She tasted so sweet, so juicy. So gratifying was her flavor that he wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her closer to his face, burying his mouth in her delicious folds. The sting of his scalp as she tugged on his hair, letting out beautiful sounds as he pleasured her, only made him more excited.

“You like that, baby?”, he looks up at her with a grin, her juices dripping down from his lips.

“F-Feels so good, Harry, please, please..”, she begs, her hands pushing his head back down as her breathing gets heavier with her release being close. He flicked his tongue across her and inserted two eager fingers into her slick center. Her moan rose to a pleasure filled shriek, and he felt her walls close tight around his fingers.

“Let go, darling, come on, coat my fingers and my mouth, I want every bit of it, give it to me..”, he hums against her skin and watches her unfold with awe. She looked divine. Murmurs of his name leaving her lips, eyes rolled back in pleasure.

She lay sprawled with a content smile on her lips and he pressed little kisses to her skin, starting from her stomach and finally reaching her lips. “Where’d you learn that? It was like, out of this world, good, you know?”

“Wait till I’m inside you, love.”, he whispered, stroking some of her hair back from her forehead, still hovering over her. She grins, moving her hand to stroke his rock hard dick, making him groan. “Oh yeah? Show me then.”

She gasped as he slid into her easily moistened sex, letting out a loud moan. “You feel that, darling? Feel how you fit around my cock?”

She wasn’t able to answer as he grunted, pulling his hips back only to plunge them forward, fucking her with hard, deliberate thrusts. She opened her legs wider and relished the feeling of his shaft ramming so deeply.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby.”, he pants, moving a hand to squeeze around her right breast.

“S-So good, s-so fucking good.” His thrusts get faster and she grabs his shoulders, her mind going blank with pleasure. “Who do you belong to?”, he asks.

She might be the one that makes grown men quaking in their boots in the outside world, but when she’s with Harry? She just wants him to take control. To mark her up and to make her cry out of pleasure. He loved the way her body would react to his touch. He takes pride in knowing that he’s one of the very few people she trusts.

Harry moved his hand on her breast to her jaw, his fingers pressing her mouth open. “Answer me.”

“Y-You. I’m all yours, Harry.”, she managed to say and opened her mouth further, sticking out her tongue. “Want me to spit in your mouth, baby? Such a dirty girl.”

He leaned forward before collecting his spit and aiming it inside her mouth, landing it on her tongue. She moans, swallowing it. “Good girl.”, he praises, bringing his lips over hers for a kiss. She kissed him hungrily. His tongue entered her mouth as his cock penetrated her.

“I-I’m close..”, she whimpers, biting down on his lip.

“Me too, sweetheart, c-can’t hold on much longer. Y-You feel so fucking perfect.”

They hold each other through their highs, and continue to do so as they come down from it. “Harry?”, she whispers, kissing his cheek.

“Mm sunshine?” He looks up at her, giving her a tired, lazy grin.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Romania’s face coming inches closer to his face and his lips made him jerk back to the reality that he wished was just a really bad nightmare. Five years and the memories he had with her were still so painful to remember, etched into his brain like he wouldn’t ever forget any detail.

“She’s done so much to you, Harry. Let the whore rot in hell.”, Romania seethed.

Harry tangles his hand in her hair, leaning down making her think he was going to kiss her, but he yanks her head back by the grip on her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Shut the fuck up, you jealous bitch.”

She grins despite the pain, one snap of his wrist and she would be dead.

“Get out before I kill you.", Harry mutters, letting her go. The only reason why he hadn’t done so already was because her father was important, and she did her job decently.

“Yes sir.”, she hums and hops off the chair. “You have to do something about her soon though.”

Harry picks up his whiskey glass again, emptying it down his throat before taking a swing from his cigarette. Even though Romania annoyed the crap out of him, she was right. Harry had to put Reagen behind him, or he would never move on. He had given her enough of his time. It was time to end it all.

"I'll do what I need to do.”

________________________________________

y/n couldn't sleep. She racked her brain trying to remember things about her past life, that might be the only thing that could save her. She didn't know how long she's going to be here, or how long Harry wants to keep her here. The only plan she could come up with was making a run for it, but she knew it wouldn't get her far. Someone would chase her down, or they could just fire a bullet at her.

Her thoughts shifted to Harry. She was supposed to be mad at him, supposed to forget him, but she couldn't. Everything around her was lies, but she couldn't believe that the time she spent with Harry in these four weeks was a lie. It wasn't, right? He did deceive her, and he was playing her when she thought she was playing him, but whatever happened between them was real. Their feelings were real. That beautiful ring he had picked out, that was for her. Why couldn't she remember their memories together?

y/n wipes away her silent tears as she stares up at the ceiling in the dark. Pitch dark. Eventually, her tired eyes took a break.

y/n wakes up to Oliver shaking her awake. "So? You have a plan?"

The usually composed Oliver appeared a bit distraught. She was going to bring her hands up to rub her eyes, when he handcuffs them behind her back. "Hey!", she protests.

"Shh, there are a lot of people outside.", Oliver mutters. "And I'm supposed to have you in handcuffs, sorry. Bad news, Harry decided to kill you, he's on his way now."

"Oh great.", she says, not surprised. "Tell him to just hurry it up."

Oliver glares at her. "You still don't remember anything?"

She shakes her head.

Oliver's eyes scan her face.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Oliver. You've been good to me, thank you.", she gave him a small smile. Oliver shakes his head. "I still believe in you."

Just then, they hear knocks on the door. Oliver gets it, and Romania comes in, her heels clicking, head held high. "There she is."

She crouches down, and y/n grunts in disgust, trying to pull away when Romania strokes her hair. "Hey darling, how are you"

"Get away, bitch.", she muttered, and Romania giggles. "How sweet. The once almighty Reagen is now at our mercy. Are you sure you want that to be your last words?"

"Romania, what do you want?", Oliver folds his arms across his chest.

"Oh nothing, just came to say goodbye to her. If Harry has any difficulty pulling the trigger, I'll do it for him.", she says, running her manicured nails across y/n's cheek. "I don't understand what Harry sees in you."

"You're never going to get him.", y/n answers back, and Romania's eyes darken in anger, her hand moving to wrap around y/n's neck, choking her. "You can watch from your grave, Reagen. Harry will see clearly once the filth is removed. You will die today, your chances are all over."

"That's enough, Pelt.", Oliver snaps. Romania lets her go and she coughs, trying to breathe. Romania stands up. "Looks like Harry's here!"

The white cedan was pulling up outside. Romania walked out to greet him. y/n watches as Harry steps out, he was wearing a black shirt, with black pants and boots. The top few buttons were undone, so she could see half of his butterfly tattoo, and other ones. The silver cross chain hung from his neck, rings decorating his hands.

His eyes fall on her as he reaches the door. "Give me a minute with her.", his deep voice rumbles to Romania and Oliver. They both stepped out, and Harry comes in, closing the door.

"Harry.", y/n says softly, flinching as she tried to sit up against the wall. "Sleep well?"

Harry crouches down just like Romania had, so he can meet her eyes. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, do I even know you anymore?", y/n whispers. Harry's eyes soften as he reaches a hand out to fix her hair after Romania's assault. "You know me better than anyone else, y/n." He chuckles to himself. "Guess I've got used to calling you y/n."

"Nice acting by the way, couldn't tell yesterday. Made me a total fool."

Harry sighs. "Everything I did was for you-"

"-No, it was for you.", she cuts him off.

"Wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in my place?", Harry asks. "I lived holding on to the thought of having you back with me for five years, Reagen. I loved you that much."

He looked so handsome. His gorgeous eyes, his pink lips and his brown curls. She wanted to run a hand through it. "J-Just get it done with Harry, whatever."

Harry takes her face, his thumbs wiping her tears away, his own eyes watering. "Please, sunshine. Don't make me do this. Please tell me you remember something."

y/n hated to break his heart, but there was nothing she could do. "I-I'm sorry, Harry.", she croaked, and he pressed her face to his chest. She took in his comforting, masculine scent. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her. Then everything would feel alright. Everything they've been through flashes through her mind as he presses his lips to her forehead.

He pulls her away, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. " I promised you a long time ago that we would find your mom. I know you don't remember, but just know that I will find her."

Her mom? She thought she didn't have a family. Reagen didn't have a family, right? Then her painting comes into her mind. The painting Harry was absorbed in. The woman she painted, whom she thought would be her mother. She's real?

Harry didn't allow her time to ask more questions. He presses his lips on to hers, kissing her one last time. This was a different kind of a kiss, not one that leads to something, but a hard, painful one. It felt like he was putting all his emotions into that kiss, letting it all flow into her.

She was wondering about what to make for dinner when she heard the door. She looked through the peephole first, seeing Harry and smiled, opening the door.

"Hey there.", she smiles, her heart skipping a beat as his stressed, grumpy face split into a smile. "Hi. I hope it's not too late, wanted to show you something."

"Of course not, come in."

She let Harry inside and locked the door. "I was just gonna start dinner. You're not going before tasting my signature pasta."

Harry follows her into the kitchen, not being able to trap his smile. "I'd love to try some."

She enjoyed his company just as much as he enjoyed hers. She's been spending a lot of time with Harry every day, ever since he joined her during her training. She's used to talking to people only about gang work, but Harry? She talked to him about everything.

They shared a lot of likes and dislikes, he was funny, sweet and charming. He was also a big asset for the gang.

"So? What'd you make?", she asks him, moving around the kitchen to get the ingredients while he leans on the slab, looking at her.

He pulled out a small box from his pocket, opening it to show her a chip.

"Your new creation, doc?"

He nods. "Press this button here before throwing it and everything within a 2 mile radius of where it lands will be destroyed."

She doesn't question the working, knowing by now that it's no joke. She raises her eyebrows. "Impressive. I'm sure it'll be useful, keep it safely."

Harry nods, putting it back into his pocket like it was harmless. "You okay, Harry?", she asks. Harry usually got into destruction mode when he was anxious, frustrated and angry. He only told these things to her.

He sighs, nodding slowly. "Just one of those days, I guess."

She squeezed his arm. "It's okay, by the end of the night, you're gonna be feeling better."

"I'm already feeling better. Being around you..I don't know what it is.", he admits.

She smiles, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah? Tell me more, I'm liking the sound of this."

Harry chuckles, amused by her. "Put me to work boss, wanna help you cook."

"You wanna cut the peppers?"

"Sure."

They spent the entire time chatting as they cook together. Then Harry wanted to show off his pro chef skills, wanting to flip the mushrooms in the pan. Of course some of it went flying out and she scolded him while he laughed, apologizing with a soft kiss to her temple, making her smile.

She then brought a spoon to his lips, wanting him to taste the sauce. She watched his face as lips wrapped around the spoon, letting her feed it to him.

"Mm, that's really good." Harry smacks his lips together and she grins. "It is?"

He nods, giving her a side hug as he offers to continue stirring the sauce. "How are you so good at everything you do?"

She blushes, leaning to his side. "I try." She looks up at him. "Are you feeling better?"

"Loads." He pulls her closer. "Thanks, sunshine."

"Sunshine?", she giggles at the nickname.

He nods, smiling back at her. "Trust me, you can be terrifying if you want to be, but I love this side of you. The happy, care free side of you. You're healing me, you're helping me cope with everything I've been through and the first thought I have when I wake up in the morning is about you. So yes, you're my sunshine."

Her heart melted as she turned him around so he was facing her and she wraps her arms around his neck. Harry dropped his head to her forehead, keeping the spatula away to move his hands to her hips.

“Can I kiss you?”, she asks, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip.

Harry smirks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Only if you want to.”

“And you don’t?”

He grins, closing the space between their lips as he moves a hand to the back of her neck. She felt like her soul had returned to water, like every part of her that came from a dead star became alive. He tasted so sweet, his hand pressing against her skin, his breath fanning over her face.

“Oh I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”, he whispers against her lips before kissing her again.

That was their first kiss.

Harry's lips pull away from hers, just as the memory fades away. "I love you, and I'll always love you.", he whispered.

"I love you too, Harry.", she spoke without a tremor now. Almost like the kiss had given her some strength, her fear was melting away. Harry got up without another word, and started walking away.

"Harry!", she calls.

"I'm sorry..I-I can't.", he heard her mumble, before he kicked the door open instead of just unlocking it. Harry walks to Sania and says something to her that splits her face into a grin. "Yes boss, I got it."

"Harry, come on! I asked you first!", Romania whines.

He chose to ignore her, and got in his car again. The car drives away. Great, now she's back with the lunatics, and Oliver.

"Get up and come out, it's easier for us to clean the mess outside.", Sania was coming to her, and grabs her up by her shirt, making her grunt. "Shouldn't get the warehouse dirty!"

Her mom. Her head was aching, as something was trying to come through. Somehow, it was connected to her mom. That night, betraying Harry, killing him, she didn't want to do it.

"Perfect! Is everyone ready to watch the death of the great Reagen? Remember that this is what happens to Traitors!", Romania's voice irritates her while she scans the place. There were around eight men along with Sania and Romania.

Sania points the gun to her forehead. Before she could pull the trigger, y/n jumped up into the air, and kicked her straight in the chest with how much ever strength she could muster. She grinned, that felt good.

"Grab her!", Romania says, taking out her own gun, and all the men rush to her. y/n didn't think, she only fought. It was like muscle memory. She was stronger than she thought. Even with her hands cuffed, she was moving through the men, kicking, and swiftly moving around them, dodging their knives and blades.

Then someone grabbed her around the middle, and she growled, struggling against their grip. He was strong.

"I have her! Romania, shoot!"

It was Oliver. But she felt one of his hands fiddling with the handcuffs, and so she stopped struggling in his grip and with a click they were off. Romania came to her with the gun, Oliver let her go, and she pounced on her like a tiger, sending her down to the ground. Her gun fell out of her hands, and she grabbed it quickly, aiming it at her heart, and she pulled the trigger.

Boom!

The shot was fired. Romania gasps, shuddering as she looks at her chest, soaking blood into her clothes. "You deserved a slow painful death, this will be quick, so be thankful.", she spoke, and she didn't even know where that came from. y/n didn't talk like that. Must be Reagen, she thought. Was she such a badass?

“And remember, Harry was always mine.”, she adds as the life fades away from Romania’s face.

One of the men came at her with a blade, and she ducks down, punching his stomach and grabbing the knife out of his hand as he falls forward. She slashed him with it, and he fell with a thud. Men after men, she took down with the gun in one hand and the knife in the other but she was unscathed. She was fighting like a monster. She took out all her rage and anger out on them.

Next, she was up with Sania. The one whose betrayal hurt more than others. The one she thought was her friend. All the color was draining from Sania’s face and she joined her hands together in apology. "P-Please Reagen, I made a mistake. Please don't-"

She stuck the blade into her stomach in rage. "I thought you were my friend!”

She thought she might feel something as she fell dead in front of her, but she didn’t. She was numb. After all, Sania was going to kill her. She deserved to die.

y/n was rushing on adrenaline, and she looked around at all the fallen bodies, like who's next?

There was a last man standing. Oliver. He put his hands up as she pointed the gun at him, but he was smiling. "So you did have a plan." "Shut up."

He shrugs. Oliver was good. He had helped her. She could trust him. So she lowered the gun. "Are you going to come with me? I have to get out of here."

"I'll be your driver, like old times.", Oliver nods, pointing to a truck. "We'll have to switch cars later, but for now, let's go."

They both get into the car, and Oliver drives away. "So, do you remember everything now?"

"No. Bits.", she sighs, bringing a hand to her forehead. "What do you know about my mother?"

_______________________________________________

Harry was looking outside the window, stuck in a memory lane. It contained so many little fragments of his life with Reagen. The moments he spent with her. Every single moment that he wished he could go back to.

And now, he had just given the order for her to be killed.

Harry's phone rings, it was Luke. Luke was an important player in their little game to get Reagen to remember. They all knew Reagen only had one weakness.

Family.

She would do anything for her family. She has gone to bounds and put her life in danger a million times to find her mother. That's why Luke had to play as her sick uncle.

"Hello.", Harry says into the phone.

"Harry. There's a problem.", Luke sounded breathless on the other side.

"What?"

"Romania and Sania are dead, so are some of our men. I don't know where Oliver is and I can't reach him. Angelo called me, said that Reagen attacked them. She's escaped, Harry. Looks like our old Reagen's back."

Harry's face breaks into a smile as he takes the new information in. Now that, was starting to sound like his old partner. The fearless, powerful, brave, Reagen, who looks beautiful while burning her enemies to the ground. The love of his life.

Harry didn't know if she was now his enemy, or his partner in crime, but he could figure it out. The thought of all of it brought a rush of cold air into his body, of excitement and anticipation. She was like his drug, his ecstasy.

His sunshine.

"What do you want to do?", Luke asks him.

Harry brings the lighter to the cigarette between his lips. He took a long puff from it, and released the smoke, before smiling wide.

"We wait. Reagen likes making the first move."

___________________________________________

Taglist- @livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar

(Drop a message if you want me to add your name to my taglist!)

A/N:- Let me know how you guys liked the last part! Left you at a cliffhanger;) I want to thank each one of you for choosing to read my story, it really means a lot to me. Thank you to everyone who liked my story and re-blogged it, I appreciate it so much.

Traitor-The Present has come to an end, now you understand why I named it like that. This is the story of the present. You still haven't read the story of their past.

So, do we want a sequel?

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mit0bee · 1 year ago

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Twisted Wonderland boys sharing a tent with you!

Part 2 will come eventually probably most likely

Stuff you should read: Romantic intent! Was supposed to be bulleted but i got lazy, Setting is set in Camp Vargas 1/2 even though i havent actually read CV1 and im only on book 1 of CV2 *cries* leona favouritism because i didnt realise how long writing an entire events drabble would take, sleeping on the floor because i have never camped before and the idea of figuring out how this would work with sleeping bags makes me want to do bad things

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, Lilia Vanrouge

(count how many times melora uses the word exhaustion challenge, go!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

After thanking Ruggie and Epel for their help setting up yours and Leona's tent, it was time to help everyone else, so that the Spelldrive Club wouldn't get chewed out by Vargas.

Well… That's what you had in mind, before Leona pulled you down to the grass with him, ordering saying you should relax with him.

“Oi. Come sit down with me.”

“Leona, I have to help everyone else get set up.”

“They'll be fine without you. Now, come sit.”

Helping them would have to wait for whatever else was in store.

Once the first event was announced, and the three objectives were set, you were determined to help the Spelldrive Club at least a little. Pulling yourself from Leona, you decided to follow Ruggie and Epel through each objective.

After an exhausting 3 objectives, night had come, and everyone in the Spelldrive Club were relaxing by the campfire. Whether they be sharing stories, or cracking jokes, everyone was fairly lively for having just gone through the ringer. Everyone except Leona, A.K.A. the only one who didn't do anything, that is. He had his head resting on yours, half-asleep.

Ruggie was actually the one to point out that you two should go to bed, stating that you looked like hell, and that Leona was already snoozin'. So, you practically dragged Leona from the campfire, saying goodnight to Epel and Ruggie, and finally went to the confines of your tent.

Once you got in the tent, and got decently comfortable, Leona, who by this point was already asleep, attached himself to your back like a leech.

“….ve you.”

“Leo? Did you say something?”

“No. Go t' bed, Herbivore.”

he totally said ily then got to shy to admit it in his borderline sleeping state.

i love him

ok so i didnt realize how long these end up being sooooo the rest are gonna be just the tent shenanigans *sighs*

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once you two got into the tent, you couldn't help but sit down with a sigh. Even though you two were part of an art club, it felt as if Vargas was just as hard on you as he was on the sports clubs.

“Child of Man, is something wrong? You seem down.”

You answered him with another sigh, “It's nothing. Today was just a little tough, is all.”

Malleus sat next to you, opening his arms, “Why don't we lay together, then? You seem to always feel better afterwards.”

Your face would light up ever so slightly, crawling from your spot and into his arms as he laid down. Your head was next to his chest, and you could easily feel his calm heartbeat through his attire. Eventually it was enough to lull you into a light slumber, yet through the drowsiness, you could feel Malleus' lips on your head with a few soft words.

“Goodnight, Child of Man. I love you.”

I AM SO IN LOVE

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Out of the two of you, Azul was the one to cave into exhaustion first. He practically flopped onto the tent floor the second he walked in. He was a mess. His face was beet red, his breath ragged, and he couldn't stand the thought of staying awake a single second longer.

With the last ounce of energy he had left, he grabbed your hand as he went down, pulling you with him.

“Wuh- Azul!”

“[Name]...” He groaned. Obviously the soreness and drowsiness was getting to him, “'m so tired.” He wrapped his arms around you, groaning again, “Let's sleep now.”

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, chuckling, “Okay. Goodnight, Azul.”

“Mmn. Night.”

You didn't see him this tired very often, but it seemed you'd have to find a way to see him like this again.

“[Name]!!! Azul! Look at this cool stone I found! +20 MP!”

Oh lord......

LILIA VANROUGE

Lilia was, surprisingly, nowhere near tired, even though he was decrepit. So, when you were sat at the campfire with the rest of the pop music club with your head on his shoulder, he chuckled.

"My. Are you falling asleep, [Name]?"

You shook your head insistently, "No. 'm not tired, just resting my eyes, is all."

You could practically see him laughing through your closed eyes, "Uh huh. Wise words from an old man such as myself; I can tell when someone is falling asleep. Oftentimes that person should go to bed."

You pulled yourself from dreamland and opened your eyes, "No, I'm awake. See? I was just resting m' eyes."

"More wise words; Fae can tell when humans lie."

Kalim gasped, "Wha?! Seriously?! That's so cool!"

Cater agreed, much to your chagrin, "You could totally be put on those lie detector shows! Those ones where they ask those suuuper toxic couples questions about each other!"

"Mmn. Is that true, Lilia?" You looked over to him. He had a minor habit of telling you something to prove a point , then taking it back.

He nodded, "Mhm. So we should get to bed, right?"

You slowly nodded. As much as you could deny it, nothing could get past Lilia the Lie Detector. You stood up while rubbing your eyes. Lilia waved goodbye to his club members, retreating with you to your tent.

The second your head hit the pillow that Vargas had so kindly given the arts groups, you were asleep. Lilia gazed upon your sleeping form, smiling softly. Fae couldn't actually detect lies, but you didnt need to know that. All you needed to know was that he knew you very well. You two were together, after all.

He laid next to you, admiring you, and how your body rose and fell with each calm breath, and how your hair fell to frame your face beautifully, and especially the drool trickling from your mouth already.

He would definitely have to tease tell you about that tomorrow.

AAAHHHHHHH FIRST EVER POST!!! Did you guys like it? I'm hoping to write some more in the future, including a second post to this one! currently, sebek, jack, and floyd kinda have a chokehold on me so they'll probably be in the second part! --------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #leona kingscholar x reader #twst fluff #leona x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #Malleus x reader #azul x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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seungfl0wer · 4 months ago

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*I Like When You Watch*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Being watched, P in V, Unprotected sex, mentions of female oral, mentions of Multiple rounds

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

Kinks: Voyeurism+exhibitionism (peeping Tom+being watched)

-🩵

It was late the cool air from your window hitting your skin so softly. Little goose bumps spread across your body at the feeling as the moon light danced through your silk curtains. You were tossing and turning not able to sleep. After about an hour of restlessness you finally decided to do something that always helped. Your roommate wasn’t home yet either so you could even be a bit loud.

You grabbed your vibrator from your drawer laid it beside you as you stripped yourself of the few clothes you had on. The cool air on your cunt made you shiver the sensation feeling strange but nice. You closed your eyes placing the little purple buzzing bullet to your clit moaning at the contact. Mind making scenarios in your head as you let your other hand wonder to your nipples playing with them as well.

Changbin had come home, as he walked to his room though he could hear you. Oh boy could he hear you. The thought of you in your room touching yourself made his head spin. Sitting his stuff in his room he made his way to your door ‘she has it cracked?’ He said to himself as he peaked into your room. The sight of your body being illuminated by the moon light as you touched yourself made him go crazy. He stood in the door way as he watched you palming himself through his shorts.

Your mind was going crazy but nothing was enough right now, you whined to yourself just wanting to be filled by something. Bins mouth was open looking like a dog with his tongue hanging out and the drool dripping down his chin. He was getting off at the thought he could be caught at any point. ‘What if you catch him? Would you be mad or maybe ask him to join?’ He thought to himself the last question had him shoving his hands in his pants to fuck his fist hard.

“Y/n” he groaned out without thinking his mind just blurred. Your eyes darted to the door seeing him standing there touching himself to the sight of you. You could feel your walls grip around the thought of him helping you. It was hot that he was watching you felt so dirty but so fucking hot. You acted like you didn’t see him as you touched yourself turning your toy to a higher speed “Binnie” you said softly arching your back at the feeling of the new speed.

He didn’t even stop to see if you saw him the sound of you saying his name made him feral. He fucked into his fist fast his head falling back at the feeling. The hot thoughts danced through his head, thinking about you. How you feel, how you taste how you’d scream his name. He wasn’t prepared for what was about to come from your mouth though.

“Binnie please, god I see you please just come fuck me” you whimpered. This time he did freeze making direct eye contact with you his whole body went hot. He felt like a volcano that was ready to erupt, he shook his head snapping out of his haze. He made his way to you, taking in all your sight up close for the first time. He almost pounced on you like a wild animal to its prey. He leaned down to kiss you sloppily, His kiss felt hot tasted like mint and cola?

He grinned his hips against you letting out low Groans as he felt your trail of your juices on his sweat pants. “You know I see you watching me- all the time” you moan out. This wasn’t the first time Bin stood in the same spot touching himself as he watched you do the same. You see him frequently doing it, it’s always so sexy to you to have him watching. You’re always to nervous to a call for him but today you just couldn’t help it.

“You do?” He choked out almost feeling embarrassed. You nod “yeah it’s hot that you watch me though” you words coming out softly almost a whisper. “You like the idea of someone watching you get off?” He asked smiling a devilish smile. You nod almost too eagerly giving him a great idea. He stood up pulling you up bringing you over to the window you had opened. He leaned your body against it before dropping his shorts completely.

“Let’s let everyone watch you get off then hmm?” He said against your ear. He aligned his cock head to your soaked cunt pushing into you quickly. He wrapped his arms around you the feeling making his knees almost go weak. He’s stood at your doorway for how many weeks hoping you’d invite him in and now that you have he wasn’t letting you go. He wanted to be buried into you all day everyday. His perfect cock nestled so nicely into your cunt, poking at your abdomen you could see it slightly.

“No holding back, let everyone hear those beautiful moans I’ve listen to for so long” he said before he started to fuck into you. The sounds of his balls smacking against you filled the room. You moaned out gripping the window tightly. “That’s it baby let them hear you fuck-“ he groaned out he played with your nipples before moving you a bit so they were pressed against the glass. Your whole body on display for everyone to see.

Your cunt clenched tightly around changbin as you felt your high rushing over you. The sloshing sound coming from him pounding into you were so hot. The mess you were making on his cock was enough to make him cum. He gripped your thighs rubbing your clit as he deepened his thrusts. You almost screamed out, the new feeling, he was hitting your g-spot. Boy was he hitting is so fucking good too. “Gonna- fuck- I’m cumming!” You had almost no warning as the warm damn broke cumming all over his cock.

Changbin groaned at the feeling pumping sloppily into you pulling out the last second to paint your back with his thick white paint. He quickly grabbed a towel wiping your back off before picking you up laying you gently in bed. He kissed you softly before curling up against you rubbing your back. “Binnie” you said softly. “Mhm” he said in return in a soft hum. “Can we go again?” You asked pushing your hip back against his already semi hard cock. “We can go as many rounds as you can take sweetheart” he said placing his cock between your soaked lips. “I’ll fuck you all night beautiful and then I’ll make you breakfast” he teased kissing you.

“Bet.” You said pushing your hips back making his cock slide right back in where it belonged. You two fucked all night, like little feral animals. Laughing at the thought that this all started because you wanted to sleep. Your cunt had shaped so perfectly to his cock by now, almost engraved at this point. The morning of he kept his word making you breakfast. He brought it to you in bed since your legs were basically jello at this point. He positioned himself between your thighs as you ate. “We both get to have something tasty this morning.” He said with a smirk.

Fuck- what did you get yourself into? Honestly you weren’t gonna complain. Your brain had been scrambled more than the eggs you were eating. The man below you sucking your overly sensitive nub could go so many times over and over. And honestly? You were mad you waited this long. You both had so much fucking to catch up on.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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chaniceroses · 5 months ago

Text

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part TWELVE

The ride over to McGrath’s took forever. He was a smart person to live away from the city and to be surrounded by nothing but woods and water. Which means that more than likely, he had cameras and heavy men guarding the area. Eventually you and the rest of the group made it near the abandoned building that he was hiding in.

You could see McGrath panicking while walking back and forth, he was talking to someone and kept his eyes focused on one thing.

“What do you think is going on?”Armando asked, staying low to the ground.

You squinted your eyes to see if you could see anything else but nothing.

“I don’t know, he’s hella upset though. I can tell you that.”, Marcus responded, looking out of his binoculars. You shifted your eyes over to the water to notice a seaplane approaching the sand.

“Look!”, you whispered, pointing your finger over to the plane. You watched as everyone turned their attention to the plane and then back to McGrath to see him now walking outside onto the dock.

“We have to go!”, you continued, now standing up and pulling your gun out.

“What the hell are you doing? We have to do this responsibly if we all want to live.”, Rita whispered, signaling you to crotch back down.

“I don’t give a fuck Rita.”, you snapped back, checking your gun. You were getting sick of Rita and her bullshit.

“You should “give a fuck”, I’m your boss which means I have the last say.”, she replied, now standing up and facing you.

“ Excuse me but…last time I checked, you weren’t the one doing all of the work with proving Howard’s innocence. We were…”

“Rita, she has a point. We need to go now.”, Mike added, looking up at you and Rita. You watched as everyone stood up and turned to face the both of you.

“No, I will not allow my team to be killed, just because this is personal for you.”, she responded, standing in front of you. You would think because she was close to Howard, that this would be personal for her also.

“You and these fucking rules.”, Armando added, walking over to you and softly pulling you behind him.

You turned your head to look at Mike to see him nodding his head towards the building, signaling you to go. You understood what he was saying so you walked from around Armando and started running towards the beach. You kept your attention on McGrath watching him walk down the long dock while holding on to Mike’s wife.

Once you reached the dock, you hid behind the big tin that was next to it. Trying to count the number of people that were coming out of the place.

“More than fifteen…”, you whispered, peeking around to see Callie crying. You could feel the adrenaline begin to rush throughout your body, that’s when you knew to go. So you sprinted out from behind the tin and started shooting, and ducking. Allowing the bullets to hit each person that you were aiming at. In response, you were being shot at. Bullets hitting the sand, dock, and different objects that were surrounding the place.

You watched as McGrath and some of his men ran inside while the rest stayed outside to fight. McGrath, running? Well that was a shocker. You turned to see Mike, Marcus, Kelly and Armando climbing onto the docks and shooting each person that were in their line of vision. They must’ve been following behind you, when you had removed yourself from cocky Rita to run towards the building.

“MIKE HE’S INSIDE!!”You yelled, sprinting up the twisted dock. That’s when you noticed a man running towards your direction. He was muscular, big and tall with a long black beard. You aimed your gun at him to shoot him until you realized that you were out of bullets.

“Shit…”, you whispered, throwing the gun and watching as the guy sprinted towards you at full speed.

You decided to match his energy and run towards him. Once you were close enough, you threw yourself onto the ground and punched him in the balls several times. Hoping that it would cause him to lean over in pain. You watched as he slowly turned around to look at you. Before you could throw another hit, you felt someone aggressively pull you back, making you fly onto the ground.

“Fuck…”, you mumbled, grabbing your hip. You looked up to see Armando climbing on top of the guy’s shoulder to then throw down his elbows violently until the guy’s body went limp. You watched as the guy laid there and then looked back at Armando to see him shoot the guy in the head to make sure that he was dead.

“I didn’t mean to throw you down like that baby!”, he yelled, running over to you and picking you up off the ground. He frantically began to check your face and body, turning you around to make sure that you weren’t hurt.

“I’m okay Armando.”, you smiled, creating space between the two of you. You couldn’t help but to be in awe of how he was treating you. You watched as he smiled back in response, then raised his arms out to you to allow you to lead the way. So you did.

ARMANDO POV

I followed her, allowing her to lead the way inside. Marcus and Mike had already killed those who had met us on the dock so I figured all we had to do was walk in and trap McGrath to get Callie and Mike’s wife. Until we started hearing gunshots, we ducked and hid behind a big stack of wood boxes that were blocking different doorways.

“I’m going to go after McGrath, that should be where Mike is.”, she informed, pulling out a gun from the back of her pants and taking off the safety lever.

“I’ll try to get rid of the rest of these people.”, I responded looking at her. For a moment as we hid behind the boxes, it felt that it was just the both of us in the room. No violence, no voices, no one else. Just us. I watched as her eyes shifted from looking at me to looking behind me. Before I could respond, y/n pulled my head into her chest and started shooting at whoever it was. I covered my ears, allowing her to finish what she was doing. Once she finished, she stood up and reached out her hand to help me up.

Grabbing it, I got up and turned to see two guys laying on the ground unresponsive. That was hot.

“I can come with you y/n, let me help you.”, I suggested, snatching the gun that was wrapped around my waistline. I watched as she just looked at me and then towards the direction that McGrath went. She had a look of uncertainty written across her face, which told me that she was against it. I didn’t need a response to know what she was going to say so I grabbed her face and gently kissed her on her lips, then on her forehead and then ran towards the shooting that was happening between Dorn and Kelly with McGrath’s men.

Y/N POV

You watched as Armando ran off towards the sounds of guns going off after kissing you. Was that his way of maybe saying goodbye or expressing what he was going to say earlier. You shook your head to allow your thoughts to leave it and then ran after McGrath. The hallway was long and filled with windows that showed the ocean view. As you ran, you took a peek out the window and noticed something shiny hiding behind the bushes on the beach. You stopped to stare at it when suddenly, the window glasses around you started breaking. They were shooting at you. You started sprinting, trying to reach the end of the hallway before the bullets reached you. Each step that you took, it felt that the bullets were getting closer and closer.

You started noticing how close you were getting to the door at the end of the hallway so the only thing that was running through your head was to jump. Jump at the perfect time so that the bullets wouldn’t catch up to you and leave holes throughout your whole body. So you jumped, allowing your body to slam onto the ground. Until you felt a sharp pain on the side of your leg. Quickly sitting up against the wall near the door, you dropped your gun and looked down to see an open gunshot wound in your leg.

“Ugh…fuck!”, you whimpered, holding on to your leg. You looked down the hallway to see if anyone was coming before putting your attention back to your leg. Your hands were shaking and you could feel tears building up in your eyes.

You knew that this operation wasn’t going to be easy but you were shocked at the fact that you were shot so quickly. That has never happened. You could hear loud groans and hard steps at the entrance of the hallway so you shifted your body and turned to see Armando and Callie standing there while looking at you.

“Are you shot?!”, Armando yelled, letting go of Callie’s hand and running towards you.

“Go back Armando!”, you screamed back, pointing towards Callie.

“No I’m not, you’re shot! I can’t—” “Fuck…Armando!”, you interrupted, pulling out your gun and pointing it at him. You watched as he stopped in his tracks, now standing in the middle of the hallway. He had a surprised look on his face. Not being able to grasp the fact that you were aiming a gun at him.

“Armando, go back or I'll kill you. I don’t want to but I'd rather have to shoot you and take your life myself then have someone else take it and you be dead because of me so go back and get her out of here, the both of you!”, you continued, aiming your gun at him. You didn’t want to put him at risk, you’re already shot and you guys had just gotten here. You watched as he took a step at you, testing your word. So you aimed your gun at the ground next to his foot, then shot it and then aimed it back at him.

“I don’t miss.”, you cried, using your other arm to leave your body off of the ground. You watched as worryness began to be written across his whole face. He kept looking back at you and then at Callie. You looked at him and noticed bruises and cuts across his face but you had to ignore it, ignore him. So you turned your back towards him and left out of the door. You were praying to yourself, hoping that he understood why you just did that. You wouldn’t dare hurt him however you just wanted him gone and to be safe and you knew that you threatening him and leaving would let him know that you were serious.

Walking out the door, you were met by a flight of stairs that you didn’t see and ended up falling down it. Each step slapping you in the face as you went down. You laid there on the ground after the fall to catch your breath. Wondering how in the hell you didn’t see the stairs, when you noticed the glare in the bushes before getting shot at. Slowly lifting your body off the ground, you stood up to see two figures out in the distance. Squinting your eyes to adjust to the view, that’s when you realized it was McGrath, Christene, Marcus and Mike

You grabbed your gun that was on the ground and began to run. Ignoring the pain that’s running up and down your leg and the sweat that was slowly burning your eyes. Maybe it was the fact that you saw McGrath and how badly you wanted to see him dead or that you wanted all of this to be over so that you could have a regular life with Armando. You weren’t sure, all you knew is that he wasn’t surrounded, which means that you and Mike would have a chance to tear him into pieces. So, you allowed your mind to take control over your body as you ran, not allowing anything to stop you.

ARMANDO POV

“I need you to listen to me! I’m not here to hurt you, trust me!”, I yelled, firmly holding onto Callie’s shoulders. There was fear in her eyes, as if I was some monster. I can understand why, with me killing her grandfather however I had no choice. I was protecting my mother and what we had built. I let go of her shoulders and grabbed her hand, pulling her to force her to follow me. I wanted to quickly take her to safety so that I could come back and find y/n. I know that her pulling a gun on me meant absolutely nothing. She just wants me to be safe but what kind of man would I be, to allow my woman to be in danger while I run to a reliable and protected area? A man that’s a bitch, that’s what kind of man.

I must’ve gotten lost into my thoughts because suddenly I could hear Callie scream. Before I could respond, I felt a sharp object dug into the top of my shoulders.

“UGH!!!”...I screamed out in pain, pushing Callie away from the man that was holding the knife into my shoulders. I could feel my upper body go numb, and my breath slow down. A cold substance was now creeping its way down my chest and back which began to make my arm go weak. Turning to the man that stabbed me, I began punching him in his throat and then kicked him in his knee. I watched as he fell to the ground letting go of the knife in my shoulder that he was once holding. Yanking it out, and stabbing him in his throat, I watched as the life that he once had now slipped away from him. My head is spinning, I feel as though I am seeing two of everything. Trying to get up, I could feel the strength that I once had now leave my body, making me fall onto my hands and knees.

“Get up!!”Callie cried, tugging on me and looking around. “Please! We have to go, c'mon!”

I could feel her lift one of my arms up so that I could lean on her for support. I was tired, and helpless. A tingling sensation was hugging my chest and my mouth began to feel dry. I knew that Callie was trying to help me but I didn’t want her to carry all of my weight.

“I got it, I can—”

“No you don’t, now let’s go.”, she interrupted me while holding on to my arm. I knew that I was heavy and could hear her struggling to hold me up. So I shifted my weight to the opposite side of my body to ensure that I wouldn’t cause any pain to her body. Each step that I took felt like I was stepping on a cloud and I could feel my breathing slowly becoming short. Time felt like it was coming to an end and becoming impatient with me, as if it wasn’t waiting for me anymore while death was slowly popping up in my mind. I had many things running through it but the only thing that stood out to me the most was making sure that y/n is safe.

Y/N POV

You were standing next to Mike while intensely staring at the devil. He had a gun pointed towards Christine while his other hand held on to Marcus.

“Marcus how in the hell did he get you?!”, Mike annoyingly yelled, clutching his gun tighter than before. You were wondering the same thing.

“The man is fast Mike, I didn’t see him.”, he shrugged, throwing his hands up in defense.

You watched as Mike shook his head in disappointment and then turned his attention back to McGrath.

“You're looking good ... .healthy.”, McGrath sarcastically laughed while looking at you and then down at the wound.

“Shit…are you okay y/n?”Mike asked, looking down at your leg.

“No seriously, that bullet may have hit an artery…you need to go.”, Marcus added, pointing at your leg.

“I’m…i’m fine okay…McGrath, let them go..they’re not who you want.”, you responded, keeping your gun aimed at him.

“I’m not going to give them away that easy y/n, you know that.”, he smiled, pushing the gun closer to Christine’s head. You could hear her silent sobs, they were extremely low and she kept her face hidden for you and Mike to see.

“Shoot her, him or him. It’s your choice.”, he continued, looking at Christine, then at Marcus and then at Mike.

You lowered your gun in confusion, what the hell does he mean? You were lost and you could see Mike looking at you however you ignored his stare.

“McGrath what the fuck do you mean? Just take me.”

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you baby. I told you that you had a decision to make, the only person that is missing is Armando.”, he explained, tightening his grip on Marcus.

You widen your eyes, recalling the night McGrath was in your home. Decisions? You thought he meant it in a different way not having to kill the people that you mostly care about. You looked over to the ocean and watched as the waves caressed each other when Armando came across your mind. When you last saw him, he was coming to try and help you; however now, you don’t know what condition he may be in. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't follow you.

You looked at Mike, then at Marcus, and then at Christine. Trying to choose which person to shoot, although your mind was willing, your body wasn’t. Your hands began to tremble, you knew that if you decided not to shoot one of them, that they would most likely die regardless. Raising your gun, you pointed it at Christine.

“HELL NO! SHOOT ME Y/N!”Mike demanded, putting his gun down and pointing at his chest.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP MIKE!”You responded, pointing at him.

You understood Mike with every emotion that he was feeling at this moment. You were pointing a gun at his wife who had been missing for a couple days. Christine was now sobbing and Marcus was talking to himself about forgiveness.

“Ten…”, McGrath whispered, straightening his posture.

“Y/N!”Mike yelled.

“Y/n just think about it…he’s testing you, he’s not being serious.”, Marcus laughed trying to diffuse the situation.

“Nine…”

You looked at Marcus and then pointed your gun at him. You watched as he looked at you in pure shockness. Making him throw his hands up in defeat.

“Wait a damn minute, don’t shoot me. Shoot Mike!”, he yelled, pointing at him.

“MARCUS!”Mike and Christine shouted in unison.

“Eight…”

“WHAT? He said to shoot him instead…oh, so all of sudden y’all don’t remember?”

You stood there and listened as he counted down. Tears of frustration were coming out of your eyes and you could feel anger running through your hands as you held on tight to the gun. You turned your gun back to Christine and stared at McGrath.

“Fascinating choice.”, McGrath smiled, keeping the gun on her head.

“Y/N?!”Mike cried, looking at you. He had his gun back up while pointing it at McGrath.

“Forgive me guys.”, you whispered, looking at Mike then at Marcus and then Christine, You watched as Christine held her head down to avoid eye-contact with you while Mike kept trying to convince you to shoot him.

You closed your eyes to allow yourself to take in the smell of the ocean. You knew that no matter who you decided to shoot, that someone would be mad no matter what. So, you decided to go ahead and take the shot. Turning to Marcus, you shot him in his shoulder and then several times in the chest, watching as he fell forward onto the ground. There was silence. You held your gun up and watched as Mike looked at you astonishingly.

“Marcus….”Mike sobbed, turning his attention back to him. He wasn’t moving, not an inch. You looked at Mike hopping that he would catch on, however not a thought was happening in his eyes.

McGrath was now looking at you and then down at Marcus suspiciously. You didn’t know what he was thinking but you knew that he was probably catching on.

“Check him.”, McGrath demanded, while looking at Mike.

“What?”, you asked, looking at him and then back at Mike.

“Check. Him. Or she dies, right now. Your choice.”

You watched as Mike looked down at Marcus as he lay lifeless in horror. You couldn’t imagine being in his place having to check if your bestfriend is dead. Instant chills went through your body. Mike began walking towards Marcus and then bent down and gave him a slight shake.

“He’s not responding…”, Mike sighed, shaking Marcus. There was no response.

“Turn him around.”

“Are you fucking serious?”Mike responded looking up at McGrath and then at you.

You watched as Mike’s lip quivered, while he was looking at Marcus. You could tell that he was debating on whether or not to flip him but he knew that he had no choice.

“Fuck…”, Mike whispered, using one of his hands to scratch his back. You watched as his hand slightly pointed at another gun that he had attached to his belt. Quickly glancing at it, you looked back at McGrath to notice that his attention was still on Marcus. You kept your gaze on Marcus and watched as Mike slowly turned him around. That was when you knew that was your que. You ran towards Mike and watched as Marcus pulled out a gun from under him and shot at McGrath's hand. Making him drop the gun that was once aimed at Christine’s head. Grabbing the gun that was latched onto Mike’s belt, you began shooting at McGrath while walking towards him.

You turned to Mike to see him already looking at you, giving you the greenlight. Turning back around, you stooped down to his level so that you could look at him. He was cursing you out, saying every word in the book. However you didn’t care.

“Fuck you! Do you hear me, FUCK YOU!!”, McGrath yelled, leaning over.

You held his head up to force him to look at you. Allowing your hand to caress his cheek, you watched as his eyes slowly changed from hate to calmness. Exactly how you wanted it to. You allowed your head to be on top of his and looked intensely into his eyes.

“Fuck you too, you dirty bitch.”, you whispered, removing your head off of his and shooting him between his eyes.

You watched as he fell back into the water, completely lifeless. He was dead. McGrath, the man who's tried to kill you several times, was dead. The man who would have you changing identities all of the time, was dead. The man who killed the only little boy that you cared about, was finally dead. You stood up off of your knees and could feel the pain in your leg that you had been ignoring come back.

“Y/n…”, Marcus whispered.

You kept your focus on McGrath, for some odd reason…you didn’t feel any kind of relief. You took a step closer to his body and looked down at him. Observing as his hair moves with the water and as the blood slowly poured from the back of his head. You held up your gun and began shooting him again, holding on to the trigger to make sure that every bullet that was in the gun would come out.

“Y/N!”, Marcus yelled, now getting up off the ground. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your shoulder. “He’s dead…..You’re okay.”, he whispered, now putting his hand on top of the gun that you were holding.

You turned to look at him and then at Mike and Christine. Finally, the breath that you were holding the entire time had finally been released. You handed Marcus the gun and then embraced him with a hug.

“I’m sorry that I shot you Marcus.”, you apologized, patting him on the back.

You listened as he winced in pain, shit you had forgotten that you shot him in the shoulder.

“It’s okay y/n. You did what you had to do, I'm just happy I caught on to your plan and so did Mike.”, he laughed, turning to look at him.

You watched as Mike began to laugh, mimicking the tears that began to run down his face.

“Haha…at first I actually thought…I thought you killed him man.”, Mike sighed looking at you.

You turned to look at Marcus and then back at him. You could tell that Mike was actually being genuine and not joking around.

“Once I saw you kind of shift in the way you were standing, that’s when I knew that you had something underneath your sleeve.”, he continued, keeping his arms wrapped around Christine’s neck.

“Yeah, it was a tough decision but I'm glad that you guys caught on.”, you smiled, taking off your belt and wrapping it around your leg.

“We need to go back towards the truck and meet Armando.”, Mike commanded, turning around and pointing towards the trees.

“Shit..Armando!”, you yelled, looking at the group. “He has Callie and I told them to go towards safety but that was the last time I seen him and—-”

“Judy! Fuck we have to go find him, or she’s going to kill him y/n!”

“She doesn’t know we’re here Mike.”, you responded, looking at him confusingly.

“I’m sure she does y/n, she’s pretty good at hunting people down.”, Marcus sighed, patting you on the back.

You shook your head in agreement and began to follow Mike and Marcus towards the woods. The pain in your leg was getting worse and you could feel yourself getting lightheaded however, you wanted to see Armando. To see that he was safe and okay.

ARMANDO POV

“We have to…we have to stop here.” I stuttered, trying to keep up with Callie.

“No, we have to keep going just to—”

“STOP!” I yelled, walking over to one of the trees, to lean on. I watched as she stopped walking and turned to look at me, she had a worried look across her face. She began walking up to me and stared at me. I wasn’t sure what she was going to say, especially with her knowing who I am.

“Thank you, Armando. For protecting me.”, she whispered, while smiling at me. I responded with a smile and looked past her to see a mid-height white woman aiming a gun at me from a distance. It was Judy.

“Callie, move away!!”, she demanded, keeping her eyes on me.

I kept my eyes on her hoping that she wouldn’t pull the trigger. However with the kind of hatred that she has on her right now, the hope is very little. Callie turned around and stood in front of me. Basically, shielding me from the woman that was watching me like a hawk. Wow.

“Mom…put the gun down.”, she whispered, putting her hands up.

“Callie! Move! Listen to your mom, you don’t know who you’re trying to save.”

“No mom, you listen..He saved my life.”

I observed as Callie tried to convince her mom to spare me. Crazy world that we live in, I had killed her father and now she’s trying to kill me. Just for her own daughter to be against it. What comes around, comes back around I guess.

“JUDY!”Mike yelled, running towards me.

“Thank you God.”, I thought to myself. Very odd for me to say but I was excited to see him, to see my dad. My dad? Has a good ring to it. I watched as he pulled me up, allowing me to put all of my weight on him now this was more comfortable. Callie and Mike were in the middle of begging Judy to spare me when I noticed that y/n was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, where is she?” I asked, looking at Marcus. Observing as he responded with eyes, I followed where he was looking, to see y/n standing directly behind Judy. What the hell was she doing?

“Mom…he saved my life. Please, we need to help him.”

“Judy, listen to Callie, we can do this a different way.”

“Judy..put the gun down.”, y/n demanded, while standing behind her. We watched as Judy’s face turned pale, her eyes shifted from Callie to Mike.

“I’m not in the mood to kill anyone anymore however, if you kill him…I’ll kill you and then your husband. That way we can leave pretty Callie…parentless. And I know you wouldn’t want that because I don’t, so please listen to your daughter, he deserves a chance.”, y/n explained stepping from behind her while pointing at me. She was exhausted, and I could tell by the way she was trying to avoid putting weight on her leg that she was in pain.

“Judy…please.”, Mike whispered, putting his body in front of me.

“Fuck…get out of my sight.”, she responded, throwing her gun down and throwing out her arms for Callie to embrace. I watched as Callie ran and hugged her. Y/n walked from behind her, picked up Judy’s gun and handed it to her.

“It was just a scare tactic Judy..I wouldn’t have dare.”, y/n sighed while looking at her.

“I know..”, she responded, looking up at her. I watched as they sent each other a small smile and then went back to their separate ways.

“Armando…you’re pale.”, y/n whispered, walking over to me.

“I know I was stabbed on the top of my…my shoulder.”

“We need to get him help, Mike, we need an ambulance!”, she panicked, turning her attention to Mike and then back at me. I hated seeing her like this, worried and scared. It felt good to have someone care about me the way she does, however, I don’t want it to be because I’m hurt.

I began to think about my life, all of the killings that I've done and always being on the run from people. I’m tired of that, I want to live a life of peace and y/n gives me peace. However, even though this is all over now, I'm still considered a fugitive. I’m still wanted and have chains on me even if I realistically have none on right now. I looked at Mike to see him looking at the small boat that was near us and then back at me.

“Help me.”, I sighed looking at Marcus and Mike. I watched as Marcus came over and helped Mike, with keeping my balance as I walked over to the boat. I knew that I’d need to use the majority of my energy on the water so using them will help conserve it.

“Armando..what? What are you doing?”, y/n asked, walking over to the boat. “You need help,you’ve been bleeding c’mon.”

“I have to go y/n, i’m sorry.”

“What do you mean, “you have to go”? We can help you, Armando. Mike can help us, right Mike?”, she continued, desperately looking at Mike for answers. Her eyes were slowly tearing up.

“Sweetheart…stop.”

“No, Armando! No…I’m not going to stop, are you fucking crazy? You’ve been bleeding for God knows how long and you have cuts across your chest. Please Mike….Marcus, help him.”, she cried now walking up to me.

I turned to look at Mike and Marcus to see them looking at y/n helplessly. I didn’t want to see her this way, but it was for the best. For the both of us.

“I mean…Armando we can—”

“No Marcus, don’t. Y/n this for the best, I know it is.”, I interrupted. I turned to look at Mike to see tears trying to form in his eyes. Once he realized it, he quickly turned around to avoid crying in front of me. Marcus walked up to the boat and looked at me, a million things went through his head but only four words came out of his mouth. “I love you nephew.”

I stood on the boat and shifted my glance towards y/n. She was looking at Mike hoping that he would speak up; however, there was no response.

“Come here, y/n.”, I sighed, looking at her.

“Armando..why do you have to be difficult, huh? You’re pale, bleeding….fucking dying.”, she cried, walking over to me. She threw herself on to me and embraced me with a tight hug. Burying her head into my shoulder, although the pain was unbearable, the time that I was about to spend away from her was even worse.

I pulled her away from me and gently grabbed her face and softly kissed her lips. Her lips, y/n’s. One of a kind.

“Listen…”, I whispered, taking off the small gold necklace that was around my neck and connecting it around y/n’s. I watched as she looked down at it and then at me. Her eyes were slightly pink and red from crying and I could see bruises on her face. I grabbed her hand and turned around so that the both of us could look out onto the body of water. I could hear sirens coming from the distance, so I knew that whatever I wanted to say…I needed to say it fast.

“I love you y/n…and I mean it. You completed me and you made me feel free inside and I want you to know that. I will be gone and I will miss you, even if it may be in death. No soul will ever compare to yours and if my time comes to an end today or whenever before I get to see you again. I will wait for you on the other side…no matter how long it will be.”, I explained, trying to hold on to whatever strength that was still in my body.

“Oh Armando..”she wailed, covering her eyes with her other hand. I softly moved her hand and pointed towards the water.

“And even though you can’t swim…I’ll be in the waters, allowing you to feel my presence when you near it and to keep you safe if you decide to get in it y/n. So this isn’t a goodbye, it’s a see you later because time will forever be by our side, no matter what. I promise.”, I finished, lifting up my pinky finger.

I watched as she shook her head in agreement and connected her finger with mind. I grabbed her to hug and to give her a kiss one more time, this time allowing my hand to caress her stomach.

“Armando…”, Marcus sniffled. “We will take care of her.” He had his lips sucked in and tears were slowly streaming down his face.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure of that. You just make sure that you take care of yourself.” Mike added, walking over to me. He patted me gently on his chest and looked at me. Maybe trying to figure out something to say. I looked over to y/n to see her walking over to Marcus and then focused my gaze back at Mike.

“You know Mike you don’t have to—”

“I love you son.”Mike interrupted, putting his hand on my shoulder. I watched as he quickly switched to the other and then looked at me to make sure that I was okay. However, I was speechless. Hearing an “I love you” from my dad was something that I've been longing for, for years. Secretly praying to God that I would one day meet my father and have all of my unanswered questions answered. To have this cold heart and mindset that I have always had towards others, be soft. Who knew that three special words coming from him would mean the world to me.

I watched as he searched my eyes for answers while he nervously bit the inside of his cheek. I grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a hug. Instantly feeling healed. Instantly feeling the years of feeling worthless and not wanted by him, leave my body. I finally felt seen.

“I didn’t forget about my two promises, I will keep them.”, he whispered, patting me softly on his back.

I listened as he continued to talk to me about the past and everything that we discussed leading up to today. I understood every word and knew that he would keep it so I decided to pull away.

I watched as he turned around to walk towards Christine. His head was low and his body had defeat written all over it. I turned to look at Marcus and y/n to see Marcus looking at me while y/n head stayed buried into his chest. I looked back at Mike and said the words that the little boy in me couldn't wait to say.

“I love you too dad.”

Finally…. finally I was able to say it. Able to get those words off of my chest, to express how I've truly felt about him all this time. Even though anger, hatred and unforgiveness was blinding me. Crazy how when death knocks on the door, it brings people together. He turned around and gave me a smile while tears ran down his cheeks.

Looking at everyone and seeing the way everyone was emotional, made me realize how important I actually was. I sat down and grabbed the two paddles that were in the boat, using them to push myself out onto the water. After a couple pushes, I found myself further and further away from the group, allowing the water to do the work while I kept my eyes on y/n.. Although I was slowly drifting away from her, our spirits were reaching out to each other. As the boat became further away from them, I could feel my vision slowly become blurry and my heart begin to slow down. The world around me was gradually going silent and I didn’t want y/n to worry so I sat the paddle in the boat and raised my hand to wave so that she would know that I was okay.

Until I could feel my body go numb and the world around me go dark, my time had come to an end.

#armando x reader #jacob scipio #armando armas #bad boys armando #bad boys ride or die #bad boys ride or die armando #x reader #bad boys #armando aretas

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blackdollette · 4 months ago

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"got your bible, got your gun." || part five.

꒰ ៹ . "𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 .𝟑𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒."

tough. - lana del rey + quavo

୨୧˖-ׁ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: practice makes perfect...

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: new ! bau ! female ! reader x jealous ! spencer

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: possibly fluffy, somewhat playful banter

ㅤㅤㅤ꒰ ៹ . 🍒 previous chapters: 𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐕

a couple of months in the analysis unit had been more than enough time for you to prove your glowing ethics and efficiency when covering cases. but how good of an agent were you if you couldn’t even stick a bullet in a cardboard man’s flat head?

“...damnit…” you mutter under your breath, watching as your stray bullet somehow managed to swerve and hit the parchment square in the chest, which would’ve been great if you hadn’t been aiming for his leg.

watching idly from the entrance of the shooting range, spencer felt an amused grin tug at his lips. between the tug that pulled at his heartstrings and the sight of you struggling (your seemingly only flaw), he couldn’t deny the stream of delight and supremacy that surged through his veins. even though he failed his gun qualification not once, not twice, but four times.

but still, the feeling of triumph was like a breath of fresh air after months of constantly being outshone by you.

“no offense, doctor,” he dragged out the last word as usual, never forgetting to sprinkle it with just a trace of disdain, “but it’s pretty clear that you have no clue what you’re doing.”

you sigh, putting your arms to your side and clutching the handgun that sat loosely in your grip. you had heard when he came in and to be honest, you were almost certain that the only reason you couldn’t hit your target was because of the feeling of his hazel eyes obsessively burning holes in your back for the past 30 minutes.

“laugh it up, doc.” you said dismissively, getting your arms back into position and pointing the gun straight at the shabbily pierced cardboard man. “i’ve almost got it, anyway.”

he sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, hands shoved in his pockets. “not with that posture you don’t.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pulled back the earmuffs on your head, finally turning back to look at him in all his skinny, nerdy glory. you had never seen anyone pull off such an ugly sweater vest the way he did.

“what’s wrong with my posture, genius?” you placed a hand on your hip, watching his smug demeanor subtly wither away.

he cleared his throat, taking a cautious step forward. “for starters, you’re shoulders are hunched. pull them back a little and maybe you’ll actually hit the target.”

you narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to hide the fact that every single word had tattooed itself in your brain.

he continued his instructions. “next, keep your feet shoulder-width apart. that’ll help you balance.”

you nodded slowly, visualizing the movements in your head.

“finally, apply pressure with both of your hands. i noticed that you allow your dominant hand to do all the work. try to distribute the tension evenly.”

spencer obviously didn’t mean to openly admit that he had been analyzing you and had only realized his screw-up when he saw a sly grin spread across your face.

“whatever you say, doctor…” you said quietly, facing your target once again and forcing your body into the instructed stance. you stood awkwardly, hands shaking slightly as you held them stiffly in front of you. clearly the boy-genius wasn’t as good of an instructor as he thought.

he cringed slightly, pulling his hands from his pocket as he approached you.

“you look like a marionette with a deranged puppeteer.” he gestured toward your feet pointing awkwardly toward eachother, your shoulders squeezed together, and your shaking arms.

you quickly fixed your posture, standing upright once again. “and who do i have to thank for that?” you asked sarcastically.

spencer held back a little laugh. as much as he found it hard to like you, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t like the way you quickly snapped back at him and fearlessly put him in his place.

“okay, okay. just… hold still.”

with a few more careful steps he found himself standing directly behind you, using all his might not to rub up against you. he took your arms in his hands, pulling them up until they were angled perfectly with the target.

though this whole scene was undoubtedly inappropriate, you felt an odd sense of security sizzle in your chest.

“...feet shoulder-width apart…” his breath felt warm at the top of your head, leading you to obey him subconsciously. he nodded with approval, letting out a low hum.

“excuse me, reid, but i’m pretty sure if i landed a spot in the BAU, i’m more than capable of shooting a little gun on my own. how hard can it be?”

as you asked that question, he bit back the scientifically proven, and clearly unwanted tidbit of information that threatened to spill from his lips, deciding to say something much less mature, as he held your arms in place.

“has anyone ever told you how hard-headed you are?” he asked matter-of-factly.

you stay quiet, slightly taken aback by the boldness of the question. “no. but there’s a first time for everything, i guess. now am i holding this thing right or not?”

his hands snaked forward until they caressed yours, helping you keep a gentle but firm grip on the weapon. a soft sigh slipped through your lips as the tension in your body released. this was much better.

while you should’ve thanked spencer for the support, you were having a bit too much fun being stubborn. “why’re you helping me out anyway…”

your question caught him off guard. he had been wondering that himself. he didn’t even know why he had stayed in the corner watching you in the first place. but the addictive feeling of finally being better than you at something was too good for him to turn down.

he sighed, speaking quietly. “i don’t know. i can relate to you, i guess. the gun qualification was the only test that i didn’t ace on the first try.”

you let out a small laugh. even his humility was laced with the fact that he and his all-knowing gray matter could do no wrong.

spencer felt a smile spread across his own lips as well, but a feeling in his gut stopped it from blooming. this temporary moment of paradise had let him to forget what terms you and him were on.

he cleared his throat, his lips inching toward your ear until he finally gave you the signal.

“now pull the trigger. nice and steady, don’t move your arms.”

a deafening bang rang through the room. your eyes instantly slammed shut, your body jerking back into his as you sent the bullet soaring forward. you panted heavily, the wind being knocked out of you from the impact. the thunderous noise was followed by an expecting silence.

“...atta, girl…” spencer whispered, finally encouraging you to open your eyes. a wave of relief surged through your body. you had hit the target head-on, making it the perfect shot.

you stood there, mouth agape as you stared through the hollow space in the center of the man’s head. a genuine smile graced your lips as you turned back, looking at the vestige of the proud expression that rested on his face.

“...thank you, spencer.” you said with formality that he couldn’t help but respect. with a pep in your step that hadn’t been there before you left the range, leaving him alone with his web of thoughts.

on one hand, he had helped a girl that probably had no experience with weaponry in her life. that should’ve given him at least a thread of pleasure, right? but instead, he was filled with the realization that he had just fed his only opponent the last thing she needed to be a fully qualified member of the unit.

and he had served it to you on a silver platter without you having to lift a finger.

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#criminal minds fic #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #bau team #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #tough lana del rey #tough quavo #444rockstargf #lana del rey #ㅤ꒰ ៹ . 🍒“ 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐍 ! ” series!#spencer reid fluff

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