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ghostchems · 3 months ago

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thief - silco x female!reader - part four

silco finds himself at your door

tags: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, KNIFE-PLAY? fucking so hard a table breaks. also some words i think i would like to hear from silco myself. also -gasp- silco tattoos. 18+! mdni! 4.6k words. part one/two/three. ao3 link.

Rain pattered against Silco, drenching his jacket and face—a rhythmic backdrop to the tension hanging in the air. He stood motionless outside your door, his hand suspended over the knob. This wasn't part of your arrangement; you weren't supposed to see each other today. Yet here he was.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of complications, each problem more vexing than the last. Enforcers, emboldened by some unknown factor, were becoming increasingly intrusive, poking their noses into affairs that didn't concern them. He already had a meeting with Marcus scheduled, but his temper was far too flared to handle it now. The chem barons, perhaps sensing weakness, were causing him no end of grief with their incessant demands and power plays. And then there was his daughter, Jinx—she had reached that precarious age where rebellion seemed to be her default state. She didn't just dislike listening; she actively went out of her way to do the opposite of what he asked.

The weight of these problems pressed down on Silco, threatening to crush him under their combined force. But he would manage this, just as he'd managed everything else. His resolve was what had kept him alive throughout it all. He'd found ways to blow off steam over the years. Some more violent than others. The satisfying crunch of bones beneath his fist, the metallic tang of blood in the air—these were familiar comforts. But today, his mind fixated on a different kind of release. He wanted you.

He knew where you lived—a tiny hole in the wall from which he had once sent Sevika to retrieve you. She had described it to him: one room with a table, bunk beds built into the wall. You slept on the bottom bunk, while the top served as storage for your clothes. No cabinets for food. Silco's hand tightens around the doorknob. What was he doing here? He could have had you brought to him again if all he truly wanted was a quick fuck.

Silco is running—running from his responsibilities, seeking to exert power and control over someone. Over you.

The door burst open with a resounding crash, jolting you from your slumber. In an instant, your hand flew beneath your pillow, fingers wrapping around the familiar handle of your knife. Heart pounding, you spring up, blade at the ready—only to freeze as your vision clears.

"Silco?" you breathe, lowering the knife but not releasing it entirely. "What are you—"

He cuts you off, striding into the small room with purpose. "What am I doing here?” He echoes, eyes narrowing. You still have the knife pointed in his direction, your heart thundering in your ears. The last time someone had broken into your home, they'd knocked you out and left a nasty bruise on your forehead—all for him. But seeing Silco here now... you feel weak. The knife wobbles in your hand. "You should know why I'm here," Silco growls, his voice low and dangerous. He slinks closer, the power of his presence rendering you unable to move. Your brain has short circuited. This is outside of the norm you’ve established and just seeing him makes your body pulse with need.

In a swift motion, Silco grips your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin as he wrenches the knife from your grasp. A gasp rips from your throat and your eyes lock with his, the tension in the room building. He brings the blade up to your chin, the cold steel forcing your head to tilt upward towards him. You can feel his breath, hot against your face, see the hunger burning in his mismatched eyes. They swallow you whole. You feel like you’re still trying to play catch up but his intentions are clear. With a low growl, he closes the distance between you. His lips crash against yours in a vicious kiss, all teeth and tongue, demanding and possessive.

The knife slams into the table with a resounding thud, its blade quivering as it stands upright in the worn wood. Silco's now-free hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You respond with equal fervor, your body melting into his, despite the dampness of his clothes. The kiss deepens, growing more heated with each passing second. Your bodies press closer, the dampness of Silco's clothes seeping into your thin shirt. Just as you feel yourself getting lost in the moment, he abruptly breaks away, leaving you breathless and slightly dazed.

His fingers trace along your face, following the curve of your cheek down to your jaw. The touch is gentle, almost tender—a stark contrast to the ferocity of the kiss moments ago. You lean into his hand, your eyes searching his face. These softer touches have become more frequent lately, each one a tantalizing taste of something deeper.

"I thought I was in trouble," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco's lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and cruelty. The fact that you worry about such things makes heat pool in his gut. "Not yet," he replies, his voice low and full of promise. The words send a shiver down your spine. He takes a step back and drapes his rain-soaked coat over the back of the chair, the wet fabric leaving a dark stain on the worn wood. His gaze rakes over you, taking in your disheveled appearance. You suddenly feel exposed, becoming aware of your state of undress. The thin fabric of your T-shirt did little to shield you from his heated eyes, and you fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. Silco's expectant look bores into you, a silent demand that sent a shiver down your spine. This is uncharted territory. He had never shown up unannounced like this before, and the change from your usual arrangement left you feeling off-balance and vulnerable.

"I... I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming. Wasn’t expecting you," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively moved to smooth down your untamed hair, a futile attempt at composure in the face of his intense presence.

Silco's lips curled into a smirk, that predatory gleam still in his eyes. "Clearly," he drawled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the small room. "But here I am. And you know what I want."

You're surprised to find that your usual craving for shimmer is absent. Instead, your entire being is focused on the man before you, on giving him exactly what he needs. His presence alone seems to be intoxicating enough. You lean forward, your lips seeking his, but at the last moment, Silco tilts his head away. Undeterred, your mouth finds purchase on his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the sharp angle before moving down to his neck. Your hands, meanwhile, busy themselves with his clothing, fingers working deftly to undo the buttons of his vest and dress shirt.

As you work, you can feel the tension in Silco's body, the taut muscles beneath your exploring hands. His breath hitches slightly as your lips brush against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, and you file that information away for future use. The layers of his clothing fall away, revealing more and more of his skin. You take your time, savoring each newly exposed inch, your touches hungry. All the while, Silco remains still, allowing you to work, his good eye half-lidded but watchful, gauging your every move.

You peel away the last layer of his clothing, your eyes widen in surprise. Silco's skin is adorned with intricate tattoos, each one a work of art etched into his flesh. Two syringes trail along his v-lines, their needles pointing downward towards his cock. On his left pectoral, a fierce shark seems to swim across his skin, its presence as intimidating as the man himself. Your gaze shifts to his right pec, where a dagger appears to be cutting through his very skin. Your fingers trace the outlines of these tattoos, feeling the slightly raised skin beneath your touch. You look up at Silco, a question in your eyes. He meets your gaze unflinchingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Surprised?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You barely have time to nod before Silco's hands are on you, pushing you back against the table. The edge digs into your lower back as he presses his body against yours, his skin hot against your thin shirt. His hands drift down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Suddenly, his fingers close around the handle of the knife still embedded in the table. With a swift motion, he yanks it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Your breath catches in your throat as he brings the knife to your collar.

"Don't move," he growls, an order. The cold steel slides against your skin as he begins to cut away your shirt, the fabric parting easily under the sharp blade. Your heart pounds in your chest, heavy breathes leaving your lips as Silco methodically destroys your clothing, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. It slips off your body, leaving you in your underwear.

Silco begins to trail the knife along your collarbone. Your breath hitches, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through you. Slowly, deliberately, he guides the knife downward, the flat of the blade gliding over the swell of your breasts. Your skin prickles, every nerve ending hyper-aware of the dangerous caress. Silco's eyes are glued to your exposed body. The knife's path leaves a trail of tingling sensation in its wake, contrasting with the heat emanating from his body pressed against yours. You can feel his rapid heartbeat echoing your own.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. The single word sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire deep within you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, completely at his mercy - and yet, you've never felt more alive.

You feel a sharp sting just beneath your breast. A small gasp escapes your lips as you realize Silco has nicked your skin with the knife. His eyes don’t change, still cool and icy.

"My apologies," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I got... carried away." You know he doesn’t mean it.

Before you can respond, Silco leans down, his hot breath ghosting over the small wound. His tongue darts out, lapping at the tiny droplets of blood that have formed. The sensation sends a shiver through your body, a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless. Silco's tongue continues its ministrations, soothing the cut with gentle, circular motions. The contrast between the cold steel of the knife and the warm wetness of his tongue is intoxicating. You find yourself arching into his touch, craving more of this dangerous attention.

As if reading your thoughts, Silco's mouth moves from the small cut to your breast. His lips close around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escapes your lips as he alternates between gentle sucking and light grazing with his teeth. His free hand cups your other breast, kneading the soft flesh and teasing the nipple with his thumb. The knife, still in his hand, trails along your side, cold compared to the heat of his mouth. The dual sensations send shivers through your body, heightening your arousal. You silently beg for more as your hand cards through his wet hair.

Silco's eyes darken with unbridled desire. His voice commanding and dark makes you shiver. "Turn around," he all but hisses, another order.

You comply without hesitation, your body thrumming with anticipation. As you turn, Silco's hand presses firmly between your shoulder blades, bending you over the table. The wood creaks beneath your heated skin, making you gasp. His body looms over you, his presence overwhelming your senses. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal evident as it presses against you. Silco's breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands trail down your sides, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity that leaves you breathless. Silco's voice drops to a smokey whisper. "You're almost perfect," he says, his words sending your head spinning. Almost? You hear something being placed beside your head on the table. Turning slightly, your breath catches in your throat as you see a syringe filled with shimmering liquid, its needle pointed directly at your eye.

The sight of the shimmer so close, combined with Silco's words, sends a conflicting wave of desire and fear through you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, bent over the table with Silco looming behind you, and now the temptation of the drug right beside you. Your heart races, all the tension building inside of you until it’s unbearable. The proximity of the shimmer sends your senses into overdrive, your skin prickling with heightened sensitivity. Your fingers twitch involuntarily, itching to reach for the syringe. The craving builds within you, a familiar yet intense desire that threatens to overshadow everything else.

But even as your body yearns for the drug, another part of you is aware of Silco's presence behind you. His touch, his scent, the heat of his body – they all compete with the allure of the shimmer. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your conflicted desires evident in the sound. You press your forehead against the cool surface of the table, trying to ground yourself amidst the swirling sensations. Your breath comes in short, rapid gasps as you struggle to maintain control, your body trembling with need – but whether for the shimmer or for Silco, you're no longer sure.

Suddenly, you feel Silco's hand on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding. Before you can react, there's a sharp sting as the needle pierces your skin. The cool liquid rushes into your veins, and within seconds, your world explodes into a kaleidoscope of sensations. Your muscles tense involuntarily, every fiber of your being coming alive with an electric intensity. You can feel each individual muscle contracting, the sensation both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. Silco’s eyes are on you, leaning back now so he can watch as the drug consumes you. Your back arches, pressing you further against Silco, who groans in response to your writhing form.

"That's it," Silco whispers, his voice thick with desire. "Let it take you." His hands roam your body, feeling the way your muscles twitch and spasm under his touch. The dual sensations of the shimmer coursing through you and Silco's exploring hands send you spiraling into a realm of pure sensation. He seems to be electrified by your reaction, his hands never ceasing their exploration of your trembling form. "So beautiful," he praises you again as a gasp falls from your lips.

Your senses are heightened to an almost painful degree. Every touch, every breath, every subtle movement is amplified tenfold. You're lost in a sea of pleasure and pain, your body no longer your own as it responds to both the drug and Silco's ministrations. Through the haze of power and pleasure, you feel Silco shift behind you. The sound of a belt buckle being undone reaches your ears. Your body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending on fire. Deft fingers remove your underwear.

Silco's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. You feel him position himself at your entrance, the heat of his body radiating against your sensitive skin. With a low groan, he pushes forward, sliding into you with ease, your arousal allowing him a smooth entry. The sensation of him filling you is overwhelming, amplified by the shimmer coursing through your veins. Your muscles clench around him involuntarily, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Silco.

“Perfection.”

He begins to move, his thrusts hard and frantic. The shimmer amplifies every sensation, making you feel as if you're being split apart and remade with each powerful stroke. Your fingers grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the intensity of your grasp. The room fills with the sounds of your combined pleasure - grunts, moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Silco's pace becomes increasingly erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. Your own climax builds rapidly, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

There's a loud crack. The table, unable to withstand the force of your enhanced strength and Silco's relentless pounding, snaps clean in half. You both cry out in surprise as you crash to the floor, a tangle of limbs and splintered wood.

For a moment, you both lie there, stunned. Then, Silco lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Well," he says, his voice rough with exertion and amusement, "it seems we've made quite a mess." Silco's arms tighten around you, his body still intimately connected with yours. With a grunt, Silco shifts, carefully maneuvering you both away from the splintered remains of the table. He doesn't withdraw from you, instead positioning himself behind you once more. The familiar feeling of his chest pressed against your back sends a shiver down your spine. His breathing is ragged, hot against your neck, betraying his barely contained desire.

Silco's hands grip your hips with an almost bruising force, guiding you onto your hands and knees. "That's it," he husks, the usual coolness of his voice slipping. "Show me how much you want this." His fingers dig into your flesh, a testament to his waning control.

You arch your back, pressing against him as he begins to move. Silco's hands roam your form, alternating between gentle caresses and possessive grips that are sure to leave marks. His touch is frantic, needy, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. The rhythm builds rapidly, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he takes you from behind. The room fills once again with the sounds of your shared pleasure, punctuated by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath you. Silco's grunts and groans become more frequent, more primal, as he loses himself in the sensation.

"You're mine," he hisses, one hand snaking up to tangle in your hair. He pulls, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to arch your back further, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you cry out. You curse and whine, your nails digging into the floorboards as he rails you.

Silco's other hand slides around to your front, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight circles, his movements becoming more erratic as his own pleasure builds. "Come for me," he demands, his voice rough with need. "Show me how good I make you feel."

“S-Silco!” You gasp, your body convulsing with pleasure. The shimmer makes you feel as if you're floating and crashing to earth all at once. As your climax approaches, you feel Silco tense behind you. His grip on your hips tightens, sure to leave bruises. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he finds his release. He lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours.

The sensation of him pulsing within you, combined with the shimmer coursing through your veins, sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering and clenching around him. You cry out, your voice hoarse and raw, Silco's name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The aftershocks subside and you collapse onto the floor with Silco following suit, draping himself over your back. Both of you breathe heavily, his arms wrapping around you to keep you close as you both come down from your high. The shimmer continues to buzz through your system. Silco's lips brush against your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. His kisses are softer now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "You're exquisite," he murmurs against your skin, his tinged with satisfaction. It’s so comfortable like this, to be in his arms on the floor. To be safe with him. You know it won’t last.

Silco's demeanor suddenly shifts, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Get up," he orders, his hands already moving to disentangle himself from you. "Get dressed. Now."

You comply, albeit reluctantly, your body still humming from the effects of both the shimmer and your intense encounter. As you stand, you notice the tattered remains of your shirt on the floor, torn apart by Silco's earlier fervor. A small sigh escapes your lips as you pick up the ruined shirt. "You destroyed my favorite shirt," you murmur, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

Silco's eyes flick to the torn fabric in your hands, a fleeting look of amusement crossing his features before his expression hardens once more. "I'll find you a new one," he states matter-of-factly, already buttoning up his own shirt with swift, practiced movements, hiding away his recently discovered tattoos.

You rummage through your belongings, finally finding a sweatshirt you've sewn together yourself and a pair of tattered sweatpants. You slip them on, acutely aware of how disheveled you must look compared to Silco and his tailored suit. He’s composed and put-together despite his coat still soaking wet. You, on the other hand, are a mess of patchwork fabric and frayed edges. His gaze sweeps over you, his expression unreadable. You can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness under his scrutiny.

Silco's eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance. "Come with me," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for a response, he strides towards the door, expecting you to follow.

You hurry after him, stepping out into the damp streets of Zaun. The rain has lessened to a light drizzle, but the air is still thick with moisture and the ever-present chemical haze. You walk beside Silco and you can't help but notice the stark contrast between you two. People on the street turn to stare as you pass. Some eyes linger on Silco with a mixture of fear and respect, while others dart to you with curiosity and confusion. The weight of their gazes makes you ever more aware of how out of place you are beside him.

Feeling increasingly self-conscious, you pull up the hood of your sweatshirt, trying to shrink into it. The fabric, worn thin in places, offers little protection against the scrutiny of passersby. You can't help but feel like a stray cat walking alongside a sleek panther. Silco, for his part, seems utterly unaffected by the attention. He walks with purpose, his stride confident and unhurried. The crowd parts before him, people stepping aside to clear his path. It's a stark reminder of his status in Zaun, of the power he wields.

As you continue to walk beside him, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider. In the privacy of your home, the differences between you and Silco seemed to matter less. But out here, in the open streets of Zaun, those differences are thrown into your face. You follow Silco through the winding streets of Zaun, your mind hazy from the shimmer still coursing through your veins. Eventually, he leads you into a dimly lit alleyway, the air thick with the stench of chemicals and decay.

Silco stops abruptly, turning to face you. "Do you know where we are?" he asks, his voice low and intense.

You glance around, the surroundings vaguely familiar. A chill runs down your spine as recognition dawns. "This is... where you first found me," you whisper.

A grim smile plays on Silco's lips. "Indeed. This is where I took you and… where I saw your potential." His eyes narrow as he studies you. "You were so desperate for shimmer, for the power that it holds. And yet..." He trails off, disappointment evident in his tone. Silco's gaze feels like a physical weight upon you. "You're not doing anything with it," he continues, his voice a mix of frustration and contemplation. "You take the shimmer, feel its effects, and then what? You go home. It's a waste."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication.

"You could punch through that wall now," he says, gesturing to the very wall he had you pressed against moments ago. "Pulverize it into rubble. What's stopping you?"

Your heart races, anxiety and confusion swirling in your mind. The shimmer's effects still linger, making your muscles twitch with untapped power. You open your mouth, but no words come out. You're at a loss, unsure of what he wants from you. Silco steps closer, his presence looming over you. His hand reaches out, cupping your face with unexpected gentleness.

"You're more than just a pretty face," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "You have so much potential. I see it in you, even if you don't see it yourself."

His words, combined with his gentle touch, send a wave of conflicting emotions through you. The warmth of his hand on your face is comforting, filling a void you didn't realize was there. Yet, the weight of his expectations still hangs heavy in the air. Suddenly, Silco's hands move towards your throat. The shimmer coursing through your veins heightens your reflexes, and before you can even process what's happening, you react instinctively. Your hands shoot out, gripping his shoulders and shoving him forcefully against the alley wall. The impact reverberates through the bricks, and you hear Silco's breath leave him in a rush.

For a moment, you stand there, shocked by your own actions. Your hands are still pressed against Silco's chest, pinning him to the wall. The strength flowing through your muscles is exhilarating, but it also terrifies you.

"I... I won't hurt anyone," you stammer, your voice shaky but determined. You step back, releasing Silco from your grip and almost folding into yourself. Memories of your past flash through your mind - the hunger, the fear, the constant struggle to survive. You shake your head, trying to clear the painful images. Growing up in the lanes… you were hurt and you still hurt to this day from it. You won’t do the same to anyone else.

"What if they deserve it?" Silco purrs, though his gaze remains cold. He straightens his suit, composing himself after your unexpected display of strength. “You have the power to do something. To be someone. And I’ll be here when you realize that.”

With those words hanging in the air, Silco turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the alley. Again.

Hazy eyes drift down to your hands. They clench into fists.

Silco is nearly out of the alley when he hears a loud crack! He turns to watch as that wall comes crumbling down.

#silco x reader #silco arcane #silco x you #silco #arcane Silco #silco arcane x reader #uhhhhh???

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raine-degenerate · 1 year ago

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You fell but he fell harder

Wrench x reader drabble? I think that's what you call these..

After years of hacking, you finally were able to scrub your identity from blume, and Deadsec noticed you.

Sitara was the one who encouraged the rest to agree.

Once you where finally allowed in the base you noticed someone particular

Led mask, spikes and leather, not practical for the San Francisco weather but who are you to judge

After months you start catching yourself looking at him and dreaming, about what could be.

You and wrench start working together more often due to Marcus telling wrench you have engineering skills (you don't)

Wrench caught on that you had no idea what you were doing, so he offered to teach you.

After a while wrench would look at you with heart eyes when you weren't looking. He started to notice your quirks and would keep mental notes.

Wrench one day brought you your favorite energy drink, even though you never told him what it was. He just seemed to know.

Finally you both finished the robot you were helping wrench with, after the robot started moving, wrench hugged you out of joy, it was a nice hug. May have lasted a little too long..

After you two go back to your normal routines, wrench would periodically throughout the day check up on you, asking about what you're doing. Or bringing you food if he noticed you haven't eaten yet.

One day, when you where home he hacked your phone, to go black before green text popped up

Meet me on the roof, I got a surprise

You don't question it and make your way there, seeing wrench with a couple bottles of beer and your drink of choice. You two sit and talk before wrench points to the sky

Once you look fire works go off, your favorite color of course and a notification pops on your phone

Be my lover?

Soooo, ya please let me know what you think, I Love criticism so please lay it thick

#wrench x reader #wrench watch dogs #watch dogs #drabble

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aphroditeinthesea · 6 months ago

Note

I love your work so much omg 😭 🙏🏻 you’re such a good writer 🫶🏻

I saw you were looking for requests 👀 and I was wondering if you’d be willingly to do Leo Valdez x f!reader where they are kinda rivals (yk they just bicker all the time) both working on the argo together or making weapons with a team in the forge. But then some guy joins their team and starts mansplaining the basic equipment. There’s just situation after situation where the reader will explain something to the guy and he won’t listen but then the second Leo says it he gets it. And at first Leo kinda notices but just thinks it’s because he’s in charge and stuff. At some point though he overhears the guy showing her how to do something (the wrong way) and he’s like “yo back off man, she knows what she’s doing”. Maybe he even protects her from open flames when the guy almost burns her handling the equipment wrong (something she’d told him a million times before)?? Maybe both happen idk?? The two just become close after that and he ends up confessing or something

Sorry about how much I wrote 😭 your request rules said you liked the requests to be specific and I wasn’t sure how in-depth to write�� so if that’s too much you can totally take a bunch of it out lol (I work with power tools because I’m an arts major and I’ve had so many guys trying to explain basic power tools to me… so this has been on my mind for MONTHSSS)

“ i’m a feminist, obviously (but i wouldn’t really mind him saving me) ”

leo valdez x fem!reader 🔨

⚠️ o/c being creepy, mansplaining, almost getting set on fire

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“That’s not,” Y/N stormed over to the boy. She grabbed the wrench out of his hands and began turning it, “righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

“What did you just say to me?” He scoffed.

“You were turning your wrench the wrong way, Valdez,” she replied, handing the tool back to him.

He grabbed it from her, crossing his arms, “for your information, that’s exactly how I wanted it.”

She rolled her eyes, “did you sleep, like at all?”

“A little.”

She huffed, “get some sleep, I’ll clean up.”

“No,” he defended, “I just need to finish this up-”

“If you try to use power tools why you're half asleep, you'll end up getting yourself killed,” she grabbed the wrench from him again, “and you know who’ll have to clean up your dead body? Me, and that’s gross.”

“You're too good to me.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckled, wiping his forehead, “okay, fine. I’m heading out.”

“Bye,” she waved him off.

“See you later, sweet cheeks.”

“Shut up!”

He closed the door of bunker nine behind him, leaving her alone. She sighed with relief, tightening a few loose screws.

She hummed to herself as she began cleaning the mess around her. She picked up some tools, placing them back on their shelves.

“Nice song.”

She jumped at the voice. She turned around to see a boy standing by the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m Marcus,” he replied, walking closer to her, causing her to slowly back up, “son of Hermes.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

He put a hand on the ship, “heard you're working on this Argo thing, figured I could give a few pointers.”

She grabbed a toolbox, quickly walking away, “we don't need any help, thanks though.”

“Come on,” he smiled, following her, “you can always use some help, the more the merrier, right?”

“Take it up with Leo,” she answered, avoiding eye contact with her. She rushed to collect her things and made an escape to the door.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“I’m fine,” she sighed, opening the door and walking out.

She almost forgot about the incident the next day when she walked into the bunker. She found Leo with an annoyed look on his face, digging through a toolbox.

“What’s up with you, Bernard?” She commented as she walked towards the son of Hephaestus. She knew it was a stupid name, but she did love how much he hated it. She also loved the fact that he didn't understand it (she started using it more after finding out he had never seen the Santa Clause movies).

He sighed, “Mr. Macho over there,” he nodded his head toward the boy from the night before playing with a blowtorch. “He convinced Chiron that he should be working on this, too.”

She scrunched her face, “he gives me the creeps.”

“You know him?”

“He came in here last night after you left,” she explained, “I think he has a thing for me or something.”

Leo’s face tensed, his fist clenching around the hammer he held, “you think?”

“Hope not.” She took a deep breath before walking past the tall boy to grab some extra wood.

“Hey,” he grinned at her, “miss me?”

She forced a smile, walking away from him, “you know it.” She cursed herself for trying so hard to be nice to the little fucker, but she really didnt feel like starting something right then.

The day went on with her desperately trying to ignore his comments towards her. She found herself staying by Leo’s side in hopes that Marcus would think they were dating. As much as the idea grossed her out, it was better than some weirdo thinking he had a chance with her.

“I’m gonna head out,” Marcus mentioned, wiping off his hands with a rag.

“Bye,” Leo spoke flatly. Y/N stayed silent but let out a breath of relief when the boy walked out.

Leo looked up at her, noticing her change in demeanor, “are you okay?”

“What?” She met his eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she nodded, “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, “are you sure? Because I can figure out a way to get him out of here, if you want?”

She shook her head, “thanks, Leo. But, I’m fine, really.”

“Okay,” he breathed out before looking back to continue what he was doing.

She grabbed the blowtorch Marcus had formerly been using. She began using it (i don't know how they work i’m sorry), when Marcus walked back into the bunker, he immediately rushed over to her.

She rolled her eyes as he wrapped his hands around hers, “you're using it wrong.”

“I don't think I am.”

“No, you hold it like this-”

“She knows what she’s doing,” Leo called over.

Marcus just shook his head, “see when you do this,” soon the flames blew back towards them. Marcus threw the blowtorch down in the direction of Y/N in a panic. The flames spewed out and before Y/N could react, she felt herself pulled into a corner, tanned arms wrapped around her.

“What’s the matter with you?!” Leo yelled, his arms tightening.

“Look, it was her fault,” the son of Hermes motioned his hand towards the girl.

“Are you kidding? Since she’s been here, nobody’s almost died (italic). Then the second you walk in you almost turn her into toast!”

She nervously sighed. She slowly reached her hands up to hold onto his forearms, brushing her thumb against his skin.

“You shouldn't have a girl working on this in the first place, there's no way she knows anything about this!”

Leo took a deep breath before yelling once again, “get out!”

“What?” The boy scoffed.

“Get out!”

Her heart rate quickened. Despite all her fighting with him, she had never seen him this angry. She watched as Marcus shook his head before stomping out of the bunker.

Leo’s grip on her loosened, letting turn around to look at him, “are you okay?” He asked, briefly looking her up and down for any wounds.

She nodded, “I’m okay,” she looked up at his face, yet avoiding eye contact, “thank you.”

He softly smiled down at her, “yeah, well, that guy was an ass.”

She giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Don't worry, I’ll set him on fire next time I see him.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, “thanks, really.”

“Of course,” he nestled his nose into her hair, “if anything happened to you, I think I would have actually killed him.”

“Good to know.”

#leo valdez x you #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez fluff #protective!leo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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reddenedrust · 10 months ago

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Close-ups from the last piece :)

#Watch_Dogs #Watch_Dogs 2 #WD #WD2 #Wrencus #Joshtara #Wrench x Marcus #Marcus x Wrench #Josh x Sitara #Sitara x Josh #Sitara Dhawan #Josh Sauchak #Marcus Holloway #Wrench Blechman #T-Bone Grady #Raymond Kenney #RustRepresents

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ashersarchives · 6 months ago

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❝You Don't Have to Carry All of This Alone, Babe.❞

Pairing: Wrench x Female!Reader

Warnings: Wrench comforting the reader who is stressed, lots of kissing and a makeout session which, some suggestive computer innuendos, overall fluff.

﹂Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Wrench, so there will probably be a few out of character moments and I may have missed a few things about him, and I feel I could've added a few of the emotes from his mask, but I am happy with how this came out, considering it took 3 hours with no plan. But I hope my readers enjoy it!

Please comment any warnings if I did not state.

...

To say that she was angry would be an understatement. She was thoroughly pissed off. Brows furrowed forward, inwards towards her nose while her fingers worked quickly across the keyboard of her computer, lines of code opened to her, but not allowing her to go forwards into hacking what she was attempting to break into through the security of the firewall.

She had been asked by Marcus to attempt to hack into the system of a local hacking group that had somehow gotten way too close to DedSec, not into it, luckily. However, the crease in her forehead was displaying how her anger was like a full cup, only needing one more drop to over flow and cause a spill, which was where she was, seated by her work station and brewing dangerously close to the edge each time she inputted a piece of code only for it to reject it and display the red lined words that told her that it wasn’t working.

“Keep it together, (Y/N).” She whispered to herself, rubbing her hands over her face and cupping her hands over her nose and mouth as her tired eyes attempted to scan the many lines of code, looking for any mistakes or errors she could have imputed to result in the code not working, “We can do this, we’re the amazing (Y/N) that’s going to kick the ass of another hacker.”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening.

“You fucking piece of tech trash!” She yelled as she aggressively stood up and leaned on the desk with both of her hands, staring a hole into the computer that she was so ready to throw against the wall. Her yelling attracted the concerned faces of the others that were at the headquarters, while, at least the ones that were closest to her, “You know, there’s fucking computers in junk yards and here I am, stuck with you!”

Frustrated with herself and her code, she started pacing around the small area, attempting to stretch her fingers while also tugging them through her hair, mumbling to herself, mumbles that were inaudible to the others that sat by the couch, funny enough, Wrench and Marcus were nowhere to be seen, the both of them had opted to go pick up some drinks for the headquarters.

Things around headquarters had been making everything and everyone highly tensed ever since they found evidence of someone trying to hack into their system, how they got in, no one knew, but it was causing some of the members to reveal their more aggressive sides, so attempting to calm everyone down and simply enjoy the evening without fights, Wrench and Marcus went out to get some more energisers for everyone.

“(Y/N), maybe you should just calm down a little. Take a break, you’ve been looking at words and numbers since the time you woke up.” Sitara said over the couch that she had been occupying, "Which I believe was around four o'clock this morning."

“Take a break? For every minute—no second—that I take a fucking break, there’s some asshole behind a screen getting closer and closer to taking information that isn’t theirs and exposing us, as if being a heap of trash wasn't enough.” (Y/N) explains, her voice laced in irritation and exasperation, her index fingers pointing back to herself as she spoke, her eyes were starting to burn, tears hidden behind the mask she was trying to hold up, her breathing uneven and her figure shaking slightly.

Sitara and Josh could see that it had been taking a toll on her, and the one thing she was trying to hide was the fact that she thought it was running on her back, like a heavy burden. Sitara got up from her spot and walked close to the girl who was on the verge of a rage attack, she had even placed her jacket on halfway, the other half simply not on her arm and hanging off her back, a tattoo of Wrench's mask paining her shoulder blade, Sitara placed her hand on (Y/N)’s clothed shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure her.

“Just breathe. We’ll figure this out. Once the other two boys come back, we can all take a break, cool off, and then restart.” She told her, though her words were doing nothing to console her, and (Y/N)'s state only continued to get worse when the tears started pooling by her eyes, shrugging Sitara’s hand off of her shoulder as she retreated back to her workstation, her gaze fixed to the screen, her frown still imprinted on her face and her jacket swaying with her steps.

The clanking of glass bottles reached their ears when the door was opened to the awaiting two entering.

“We come bearing gifts.” Marcus said as he and Wrench placed the two bags on the table, Marcus was quick to get everything out of the bag while (Y/N) still had not acknowledged their presence, her gaze still fixed to the screen harbouring the cause of her frustration. Her jacket still hanging off of her shoulder, allowing the tattoo on the back of her shoulder to be out in the open, her fingers still twitching against the table, creating a ticking-like sound, something her mask-wearing boyfriend caught sign of.

Before he could move towards her, Sitara had caught his arm, “Listen, I don’t care what you do, but get her to take a break now before these headquarters get burnt down. Literally.” She told him, watching the emotes change on his mask from the default ‘X’s’ to the winking emotes ‘~ ^’.

“Don’t worry, I'll make sure she gets some energy into her system.” He told Sitara, giggling as he stepped close to his lover, wrapping his arms softly around her middle section and looking over her shoulder to see the computer screen filled with code, “What has you so worked up, my little pumpkin?” He cooed in her ear.

(Y/N) huffed an irritable sigh as she leaned back into Wrench’s embrace, placing her hands on top of his, ignoring the chatter going on in the background between the others. But before she would say anything, she had turned around quickly, grabbing Wrench by the front of his shirt and pulling him along to one of the rooms she had been occupying.

“I’m bloody frustrated and fucking horny, and you are going to fix it!” She told him as she dragged him to her room, Wrench holding his hands up in a surrender motion, yet his mask showed ‘^ ^’ emotes, as he happily let her drag him by the front of his shirt, because who was he to complain to a good time.

The rest of the group simply stared in confusion at the exchange that just took place.

“O-kay? I’m going to guess that she’s still worked up on the hacker problem?” Marcus asked as he had emptied the last bag watching Sitara sigh and Josh lean back in his chair, meanwhile Ray had been completely oblivious to the whole episode that had taken place.

“She does know that not everything is riding on her, right?” Josh asked as Sitara nodded to Marcus’s question.

“She’s been like that even before joining DedSec, taking on other peoples problems when she knows that help is available.” Sitara spoke, she had been friends with her since they were younger, so understanding her mannerisms was never a problem for her.

Meanwhile behind the closed door, lips were clashing in a fiery lock of passion. (Y/N) had situated herself on Wrench’s lap, her legs straddling him while her hands still grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if she was trying to mesh their bodies together, Wrench’s mask had been placed on the nightstand next to the bed that the two were seated on. His hands holding her hips down, gently brushing against the stiff boner in his jeans, their moans filling the room with each kiss becoming more passionate.

Although, the elephant in the room had still been on his mind, so he gently lifted his hand to gently grasp her wrist that had been leaving crinkles in his shirt from her tight grip, gently pulling her hand off, making her stop the lip lock and gaze into his blue eyes, the same eyes that had enchanted and hypnotized her the first time she met him, the same blue eyes that she found herself drowning in each time they were cuddling without his mask on, the same eyes she fell in love with the first time he had taken his mask off in front of her.

“Babe, as much as I would love for you to link in on my zip drive, I think there’s something bothering you.” He told her, watching as her expression fell and she relaxed a little bit, one hand still clutching his shirt.

“I’m fine, Wrench.” She told him, lying through her teeth and knowing that he could see through her like an open book.

“Babe,” He called, the sweet pet name still making her melt as the first day he called her it, “I think you’re trying to tell yourself that rather than me.” His expression was soft, he’d wait until she felt comfortable to tell him, and he could see how her eyes were slowly turning glassy, she tried blinking away the tears that were threatening to overflow from her eyes before her hands were reaching up to angrily wipe them away.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Wrench.” She told him, the tears breaking like a dam with a cracked wall, “That fucking code, it keeps on telling me that there’s an error and I don’t know why, when I checked, the code I inputted was clean and organised, and the stupid thing-” A sob escaped her mouth halfway through her explanation, making Wrench wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest. He knew that this problem was causing a toll on her, he could see it by the dark bags under her eyes and how tired she had been at the end of every episode where she got upset about it.

“You don’t have to do this by yourself, you know that, right?” He asked her as her cries died down a bit, “Everyone is working on stopping this, you don’t have to carry this alone.” He told her, pulling away to look at her face, eyes bloodshot and horrible attempts of her trying to hide her snot-filled nose.

Wrench gently placed both of his hands on the sides of her face, pulling her to look at him, he smiled softly, placing a small kiss on her forehead. He knew how she had tried to carry the world on her shoulders and ever since she had joined DedSec, he noticed her determination to keep the ones around her safe, he had witnessed it first hand when she had gone with him and Sitara to the store to get something and when some asshole pulled up with a knife, she had been quick to make herself the centre of attention before knuckle punching the bastard until his face was a bloody mess. For her, she had only escaped with a punch to the face, which he tried to help her clean up back at headquarters but ended up getting help from Ray regardless.

Even the time when she had confessed that she had feelings for him, he remembers being a mess that night. He had been working, well more like using a sledgehammer, to retrieve a chip out from the toaster and she had walked up to him, starting a light conversation with him as he told her about his technology and other tech terms, which she found amusement in. She stood close to him but still gave him his personal space, but she had been lost in her head and when he had cussed out about how the sledgehammer wouldn't help, she had admitted that she would work if he smashed her with a sledgehammer. Upon realizing her mistake, she had covered her face with her hands, hiding the deep blush that had appeared there.

But he had to be an oblivious romantic because he simply replied with, “I’m sure that would be painful.”

However, when he relayed the conversation to Marcus, he had to hold his tongue not to laugh at his masked friend. Only when Marcus had explained that she had been keeping feelings for him, did Wrench finally realize her actions, why she had always stood close to him, why she smiled at each of his tech sex jokes, and why she looked at him with a certain fondness.

And he will forever remember how she reacted the first time he showed his face to her, she didn’t grimace at the red birthmark by his eye, or scowl or berate him. He had been nervous to show her but he wanted her to know that he trusted her, however when he had reached to grab his mask, she was quick to grab it before him, placing it behind her on the small table.

That night she expressed to him how handsome he was, that the birthmark didn’t define him or make her see him any differently. Even as he cried in her arms that night from how they made love to each other, how afterwards she had placed soft kisses against all the parts of his face and down his chest and back up to under his chin by his throat. That night changed a lot of things for him, that night had allowed them both to see each other deeply and bath in the love that so strongly connected the both of them.

“I can’t let them break into our system, Wrench.” (Y/N) admitted to him, breaking him out of his memory moment. Holding her tighter to him as she placed her head into the crook of his neck.

“That won’t happen. You’ve got me, Marcus, Sitara and the other’s also working on the problem, they're not going to get one inch into our tight security.” He tells her reassuringly, “But the one thing you have to keep in mind is that you can’t do a five-person job by yourself.”

(Y/N) sighs into his neck, her warm breath sending a tickling sensation down his spine.

“Still, I feel so useless.” She says to him, it’s obvious that the problem is still weighing her down, causing a malfunction in her mind, so Wrench being Wrench decides that there is only one thing that he could do to cheer her up.

“Hey, why don’t I show you something cool?” He asks her, his hands on her waist allowing him to pull away to let her face see him again, “I know something that might cheer you up.” He tells her as he begins to get up, pulling her with him and grabbing his mask, placing it back on his face and clipping it. He gently takes her hand and leads her out of her room, passing the others on the way out and leading her to his station, where he usually smashes stuff.

She stands awkwardly next to his table, wiping the remnants of the remaining tears on her face as she watches Wrench bring some tech parts and dump them onto the table in a pile.

“Uh… Wrench, what are we doing?” She asks, curious to know what his plan was but also appreciating that he was trying to cheer her up.

Wrench picked up the sledgehammer that was placed near his workstation and walked to her, getting on his knees and presenting her with the hammer which she found odd but knew that this was his goofy side coming out.

“Your weapon, my lady.” He said, changing his voice in a poor attempt of sounding, like a loyal knight giving his princess his sword, which had a small laugh come from her.

“But isn’t that your baby?” She asked him as she tried holding it up, expecting it to be heavy, which prompted the hammer to fall to the ground while she kept her hands by the hilt. Wrench got up from the floor and led her in front of the pile of unused tech pieces. She held the hammer hilt in front of her, but the bottom part of the hammer would prove a challenge.

“Not this little thing. Wrench Junior is our baby, and right now, his momma needs to release some tension, and a good smash usually helps with that.” Wrench explained, his innuendos making her giggle but also making her swoon at the fact that he said 'our' when addressing Wrench Junior, although this did make some of the other members groan at the way he phrased it.

“I don’t think I can even pick this up, Wrench.” (Y/N) tells him as she attempts to but only gets halfway with picking it up before it hits the ground, allowing Wrench to wrap his hands around hers around the hammer hilt.

“Here. Let me show you.” He tells her as he helps her to bring the hammer up until it’s behind their shoulders, close to Wrench’s head until it slightly rests on his shoulder. “Okay, don’t think, babe. Just bring it down, alright?” He tells her, she nods to show that she has heard him, his hand’s warmth leaves hers as he attempts to support the hammer near his shoulder. And with a long, hard swing, the hammer hits down hard on the tech pieces, making a loud bang reverberate from it, pieces smashed into smaller pieces, bringing out a smile to her face.

“That… Was so fucking good!” She sighed out, although a small moan slipped in there too.

“Can I do that again?” She asked her boyfriend, smiling at him, although she was ready to have a relieved laugh. Wrench nodded to her, the emotes on his mask forming ‘<3 <3’ from the love-struck expression he had on his face.

He helped her bring the hammer up again, standing behind her, but this time once he released her hands, he placed his onto her hips, rubbing small circular motions, allowing his eyes to gaze upon the tattoo of his mask on her shoulder that didn't have the jacket draped over it.

Oh, how he loved the tattoo when she pulled him aside because she had something to show him. When she revealed it to him, he was sure that his cables short-circuited and he just went into freeze mode, because she had to call his name a few times before he acknowledged her, what she didn't expect was how hard the tattoo would influence him, every chance he got after that he would be tugging down her jacket or shirt to catch a glimpse of it. Wrench swears that it was the hottest make-out session he ever had, and he wouldn't regret it for anything.

The hammer came down again, smashing more pieces into smaller ones, and again and again. After the fifth time of her doing it, (Y/N) found herself feeling a lot better and huffing a held in breath.

Wrench’s emotes stayed on his mask, “That was insanely hot, babe.” He voiced as he sat in the nearby chair, “We should do it more often.”

“And maybe one day it will be me instead of the hammer?” (Y/N) asked, sending him a wink and a roll of her butt, placing the hammer down onto the table. The smashed tech pieces could be cleaned another day.

As she turned around, she felt his lips on hers, his hands gripping her forearms as he formed a lip lock with her once again, his tongue exploring her mouth from her gasp of surprise when she had turned around and he was in front of her, she didn’t notice how his mask was held in his hand, but his hood at least blinded the others from seeing him as he gently pushed her down onto his table until her back met the hard material.

“Okay, okay, love birds. Do that in your own bedroom.” Ray shouted as they had turned their heads and to at least pretend like they didn't see them.

(Y/N) was able to break the kiss, staring into his blue eyes before he placed the mask back on. “You heard him, Wrench. Let's continue this in a more private setting.” She giggled as she grabbed his arm and pulled him around again, the same way she had done previously.

Once they were back in the room, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hug him hard. Repeating the words ‘thank you’ over and over. Wrench placed his hands around her, his chin resting on her head as his hands drew small circles on her back, the two stayed in that embrace for a short while before breaking apart, Wrench taking his mask off and placing it onto the night stand, cupping her cheeks and pressing kisses to her lips.

"I... Fucking... Love... You.” He told her through kisses, his hands moving down her sides and latching onto her hips, “Fuck! You don’t realize how hot that was.” He told her as his head moved to her neck, placing kisses up near her jugular before sucking on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, bringing a small moan out of her.

Pulling his head away, he picked her up under her thighs, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck, not for fear of falling but because she knew that he loved it when she clung to him in moments like this. He walked with her in that position until he reached the bed and gently placed her down, hovering above her while her hands still stayed behind his neck, her hands playing with the shaved blonde hairs behind his neck, she smiled as she looked at his dopey expression, pulling his head down until his lips touched hers, his elbows situated on either side of her head.

“So, I’m guessing your soft drive is now a hard drive?” She asked, attempting to make it sound sexual but realizing how cringy it sounded after she had said it, but it brought a laugh out of her blond boyfriend.

“So hard, babe.” He replied, his breathing getting short and laboured.

“Then, let this be a thank you present, from me to you.” (Y/N) told him as her hand drifted lower, touching his stomach from under his shirt and loving how his muscles flexed when her hands touched him.

“Only you know how to get me like this.” He told her as her hand continued on its path, “So, let me show you how much you mean to me.” He said as he leaned up to remove his jacket and shirt, “Now I’m going to show you what my sledgehammer can do.”

That night had ended with the other DedSec members going out to a nearby restaurant as soon as the door closed to avoid the intimate moment of the two dorks that they associated themselves with, but for said two dorks, that night ended in passionate love making and a proper display of what a sledgehammer could be used for.

...

©ASHER RITSUKO/Companion-of-The-Night ─── I do not give permission to having my works plagiarised, copied, modified or translated onto any other platforms, including Tumblr. On Tumblr, my works are allowed to be reblogged, along with credit back to me. My works belong to me unless stated otherwise.

©Ubisoft | Creator(s) of Watch Dogs 2. (Correct me if I'm wrong, but please do it in an appropriate and kind manner.)

#wrench x reader #watch dogs 2 x reader #wrench wd2 #reginald blechman #reginald x reader #reggie x reader #wrench x you #watch dogs 2 #watch dogs legion

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crimescrimson · 11 months ago

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Marcus Safely Returns To Wrench in Watch_Dogs 2 (2016)

#Crimson's Gifs: Watch_Dogs #Watch_Dogs #Watch_Dogs 2 #WD #WD2 #W_D #W_D2 #Marcus Holloway #Wrench Blechman #Wrench #Wrench (Watch_Dogs)#Reginald Blechman #Wrencus #Wrenchus #Pairing: I Would Never Turn On You #Wrench x Marcus #I love how Wrench goes absolutely nuclear over Marcus' attempted murder #Like you can tell hes soo important to him #He didn't even react that badly when Horatio died

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v--nus · 1 year ago

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#wrencus #wrench #marcus holloway #watch dogs wrench #watch dogs marcus #watch dogs 2 #watch dogs game #watch dogs gifs #x.#x.fanworks

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago

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reckless girl pt2

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @holdmytesseract

Summary: Magnus, along with the rest of the station, launches into an all-hands investigation to find you, desperately hoping that he's not too late

Pairing: Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of blood; sad bb Magnus hours; kidnapping; restrains (not the fun kind); non-consensual touching (not our bb Magnus he would never); more physical injuries; gun mentions and use; mention of painkillers (morphine) [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

There were only ever a handful of times in Magnus' career so far where he felt he couldn't stomach a crime scene. Those few occasions involving the most gruesome of acts that a human being could have ever been subjected to.

However, despite how comparatively routine the scene looked when he arrived at your apartment, he found himself clutching his stomach, feet unable to move, upon laying eyes at the blood on the floor. Your furniture was all askew, signs of a struggle littered all over the now crime scene.

It was all he could do not to burst into tears when officers were placing crime scene tape over your front door.

Kurt clapped a hand down on his shoulder, trying to steady him. "Magnus, you sure you don't want to sit this one out? You're in no shape to work this case, this is your--"

"I have to find her, Kurt," he cut the senior detective off, doing his best to steel himself. "I have to know she's alright. Make sure she's safe again. She--" He choked on his own words, the lump in his throat making it near impossible to speak. "She's my whole world, I need her back."

Wallander sighed, knowing too well the feeling of helplessness that your boyfriend felt in every bone in his body at the moment. That he couldn't just do nothing and wait on a bunch of people that didn't care for you the way that he did to find you. "Very well, then. But you're not stepping foot in that scene. For your own sanity."

"Understood." He didn't want to be inside your apartment in the state it was in, either. That place was more a home to him than his own place; it felt so wrong having to process it like it was just another day at work. "I'll question her sister, see what she knows."

"The man that Y/N put in the hospital. The pick-up artist. Start there. If we know more about the people in the group he's in, it might give us a lead to where she coulda been taken."

Magnus blinked back his tears and made his way to your sister Stella, her eyes wide as saucers with worry and shock as she saw the detective. "I was really hoping we'd be meeting under happier circumstances. My sister speaks quite highly of you, I've never seen her so in love."

"We're going to find her," he said, trying to reassure himself as much as her. "What can you tell me about the man she fought two nights ago?"

She scrunched her face in an eerily similar way that you did whenever you were confused or trying to recall something. "Really not much to say about him, just a regular looking fella, but one of the guys he was with…he kept on talking about his father having connections and how he's gonna 'avenge his mate for what Y/N did to him'."

"Can you describe this friend of his?"

"I'll do you one better." She tapped away at her phone before handing it over to him, showing him a photo. "This is him. Marcus Ferguson. Menace to society touting around Daddy's money and power."

Magnus' blood ran cold. They'd been after Ferguson for the better part of a year, a prime suspect in the kidnapping and trafficking of women and girls from as young as 13. The heart-wrenching part was that they could never get their hands on the smoking gun that would put him away for good, and the victims that they'd managed to rescue were too afraid of retaliation from him and his family that they'd never bring themselves to testify.

And now he had you.

The details that Stella gave him led him to the restaurant you two were at the evening before last, and the owner more than happily volunteered the security footage from the time you two were in there and Ferguson's friend got into the altercation with you. He watched with a mix of fury and pride seeing how you held your own and ultimately brought the sleazy excuse for a human being down on the ground coughing and bleeding, curled into a ball.

Then Ferguson hung around close enough to the patrol car as you were getting arrested that he got your full name, and then he made a call, saying something to his friend before he was brought to the hospital to be treated. The words he mouthed on screen had the detective's pulse thundering in his ears, panic flooding his system.

"I'll have her by tomorrow night. She'll pay for what she did to you."

He was restless as he showed the station the footage from the restaurant, Kurt giving him the floor to address his fellow detectives and officers. "This is enough cause to believe that Y/N Y/L/N is in grave danger. We know what Ferguson is capable of. We know the damage he deals to his victims, and that's only the ones that we've found. It is imperative that we find her as soon as possible. Alive." His voice broke at the last word, the possibility of finding you anything other than that crushing him into pieces.

"Alright everyone, put all your cases on hold, this takes top priority," Wallander addressed the station. "I want eyes on Marcus Ferguson, someone find him and bring him in for questioning. We also know that his father Jeffrey owns over a dozen warehouses all throughout Ystad, more than enough for his so-called philanthropic efforts. Someone look into them, starting with the ones near the coast. Call them up, and tell me which ones don't answer the call. Get an officer to pay those warehouses a visit. Find Miss Y/L/N. Bring her back here alive. You have your orders."

It didn't take long before a more junior detective spoke up. "I have something. One of the warehouses didn't pick up the phone, and their registration documents show that they should be active and have a receptionist during office hours. And it's a five minute drive from there to Sandskog."

That was enough to get Magnus out of his seat and gearing up. He double checked to see that the magazine of his pistol was fully loaded.

"I'm coming to get you, sweetheart. Hold on for me," he whispered, hoping more than anything that when he wouldn't be bringing you out of the warehouse in a gurney and not a body bag.

The last thing you remembered was reaching to pick up a knife from your kitchen counter, hearing the distinct sound of another person breathing, along with another heartbeat, from within your apartment. You lived alone, and Stella was still at her hotel when you got off the phone with her just a few minutes ago. Right as you stepped into your apartment.

Then a rag went over your mouth, and a smell akin to ultra-concentrated alcohol flooded your nose. And everything went black.

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you noticed was that you couldn't move. Your hands were bound behind your back with something twining and abrasive. Rope. You weren't gagged or blindfolded. Your legs were immobile as well, each ankle roped to a chair leg. "What the--"

"Oh goody you're awake," a male voice filled the vast space you were held in. It looked like a warehouse, fairly maintained but empty. The faint sound of waves outside told you that wherever you were, there was a beach nearby. "You're a strong one, aren't ya, little bitch? First you put one of my best mates out of commission for who the fuck knows how long, and then you put one helluva shiner on me."

Your kidnapper approached you and grabbed the bottom of your face, nails digging into your cheeks deep enough you could feel the skin breaking. It also gave you a good enough view of who had taken you hostage.

"You're Ferguson's boy, the brat," you spat at him. "Never had to work a day in his life. Spends his time being a nuisance to womankind."

"I prefer the term gift, poppet." Your stomach lurched at the name. "You're lucky that pretty lil face o' yers is enough to make me consider delaying killing you. Craig went for the wrong 'un--"

"Craig, huh?" you cut him off. "So that's the name of the wanker with the weak ass swing. Tell me, Little Ferguson, do you surround yourself with weak little boys to make yourself seem stronger? Make you seem more like a man?"

That seemed to have struck a nerve. Typical. "I'll show you a man, you little cocktease," he snarled at you, panic flooding your system when you felt his hand on your inner thigh, thick and inelegant fingers creeping higher. "Maybe I'll ruin you before killin' you…"

You squirmed in your seat, trying to throw him off as best you could, your efforts falling short from the rope binding you to the chair. He only snickered in response, his hand traveling up higher which made you throw your head back and butt him on the face as hard as you could.

He stumbled back and landed on his bum with a faint smack, groaning as he held his nose. A fleeting relief washed over you knowing at least you got him to stop from touching you.

That relief, however, was short lived, the entitled bratty excuse for a man stomping over to a golf bag by the exit and picking up a golf club, a heavy one from how he groaned and whined as he tried to lift it above his head, like he was practicing. "You fucking bitch, I just had that fixed!" he bawled, now stomping over to you.

"Please, from where I'm sitting it's an improvement," you sneered. "Gives you some much needed character."

He pointed his club at you. "You're on borrowed time."

"Well hey, do me a favor and run the timer down already because if I have to spend one more agonizing second lookin' at your ugly mug--Agh!"

Your words finally sent his fragile ego off the edge, swinging the golf club back to strike you across your forehead and making everything go black.

The last thing you remembered was the sound of the heavy door to the warehouse being slid open. A commotion.

Gunshots.

And then a voice. Probably the most angelic voice you'd ever hear in your life.

Magnus.

When Magnus and the rest of his team arrived outside the warehouse, Kurt had to physically hold the younger detective back from storming into the place without cause.

"She's in there, Kurt!" he shouted, his desperation ramping up with each passing second.

"And if you barge in there with your badge and your gun without any probable cause the next time she'll see you will be on the other side of a glass divider during visiting hours," Wallander tried to reason with him. "We don't have Jeffrey Ferguson's permission to search the area, we need a reason before we can--"

The loud smack of metal against something followed by a woman's howl of pain sounded out from the warehouse, launching Magnus into action once more. "There's my reason."

When they threw the door open he could feel his heart drop to the ground at sight before him. You on the ground, a new massive gash on your forehead with a bump the size of a golf ball on the same spot. Marcus Ferguson with golf club in his hand, raised above his head ready to strike again. Before he could lay another hand on you, Magnus raised his weapon and shot three times, the booming sound from his gun almost felt loud enough to shake the empty warehouse.

He didn't bother watching Ferguson go down to the ground, rushing over to you instead to work on freeing you from your restraints, his stomach lurching at the sight of the rope digging in and reddening your skin. "Sweetheart," he choked, taking out a pocket knife and cutting through the thick ropes.

"Mags…?" you mumbled as he cut you out of your restraints, trying to be as gentle as he could manage with you as he eased the rope away from your skin.

"I'm here, sweetheart, it's okay. You're safe now." You instantly relaxed into his hold when he cradled you against his him, refusing to let you go until the paramedics got to you and loaded you onto the gurney. "I've got you."

You struggled to open your eyes when you felt yourself being laid down on a rather thin cushion, the sound of squeaking wheels and words that echoed your own arrest the other day filling your ears. You were wheeled into an ambulance, and you sighed in relief when your blurry vision caught sight of a head of blond curls.

"Mags," you breathed out, fingers twitching toward him. "Sorry I didn't show--" you said through slurred speech before he took your hand in both of his, pressing a kiss to your fingers.

"Shh don't you worry about that even for a second, darling," he spoke into your skin. "All I care about is that you're alive." You felt your skin get wet with hot tears as he kept kissing your hand. "I nearly lost you today."

"Still here," you mumbled, doing your best to squeeze back at his massive hand. "Not getting rid of me that easy, Martinsson."

Before you slipped back into unconsciousness, you heard him tell you, "I never want to be rid of you, my precious reckless girl. I love you so much."

The next time you opened your eyes, there was as rhythmic beeping coming from your side, your wounds had been cleaned, and Magnus was by your side. Hand wrapped around yours, slouched over on an uncomfortable chair, with his cheek resting on the mattress.

You tried to reach over, and run your hands through his curls to gently rouse him awake, but your other arm had a rather thick line in it administering what you could only guess was a pretty effective painkiller considering you weren't feeling the effects of the younger Ferguson's blows that much. You opted instead to squeeze his hand, your boyfriend letting out a tiny groan before looking up, his ocean blue eyes meeting yours and his free hand reaching up to stroke your hair.

"I'm going to need you to promise me something, sweetheart," he mumbled, trying to give you a reassuring smile despite the puffiness in his eyes.

"I'll promise you just about anything as long as you don't let them take away the painkillers."

"Promise me you'll try not to get into any fights until you have a license to carry a gun. I don't think danger will ever stop finding you, but at least I can make sure you're better equipped -- legally equipped -- to handle the next fucker that tries to harm you." He leaned over and looked at your face carefully before pressing the lightest kiss to a part of your face that wasn't cut or bruised. "Promise me, Y/N."

"I promise, Mags," you mumbled, your speech quite slurred. "What happened to Ferguson?"

"Intensive care," he answered, his jaw clenching before releasing his next sentiment. "Wish I'd gone for the head."

"No you don't," you shot back. "Too much paperwork."

He let out a hoarse laugh, his voice scratchy with the telltale sign of yelling and sobbing. "I'll make sure he spends the rest of his life behind bars for what he did to you."

"Hmph…self-proclaimed pretty boy like him surrounded by lonely men who haven't known the touch of a lover," you thought out loud, letting out a mirthless laugh before you echoed your assailant's words to you at the warehouse. "Maybe they'll ruin him before they kill him."

"Careful there," a voice spoke from the door way. Kurt. "Sounds like something he and his troop of deviants would say."

"Something he did say," you confirmed, wincing at the memory. "Right before he reached for the club."

"I'll kill him," Magnus seethed, his fury radiating off of him. "Kurt, please tell me we finally have enough to nail him. And his pathetic posse."

"We might," the older detective nodded. "But we need someone willing to testify against him--"

"I will," you volunteered, not taking another second to mull it over. "I'll testify. From how he talked I'm sure there'll be more just waiting to come outta the wood works. If what I have to say can give them the strength to want to speak up, perhaps we'll have the upper hand. No matter how much he tries to get out with Daddy's money."

Wallander gave you a singular nod. "You're a brave one, Y/N Y/L/N. Got the blood of a fighter, you do." He pointed a finger at Magnus. "You got yourself one of the good ones. Don't screw it up."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he answered back, thumb stroking gently across the back of your hand. "It better not come as a surprise to you that I'll want to take some time off. See to Y/N's recovery and all."

"I'd have twisted your arm myself if you didn't." He left the room, giving the nurse a curt nod as they passed each other.

"The doctor should be by in a little bit to check on you, Mrs. Martinsson," she informed you, giving you a warm smile.

Before you could protest from the name she'd called you, Magnus spoke up with a simple sentiment. "Thank you, Nurse." When she walked away, he looked at you with a sheepish expression in his eyes. "I might have fibbed a tiny bit so they'd let me stay in the room with you."

Your thoughts began to swirl more as the lightheadedness you felt from the painkillers mixed with how your heart swelled at his confession. "My gorgeous angel-faced golden retriever baby," you mumbled, making him give you a much wider smile. "Never took you for such a bad boy," you teased him. "What a pair we make…" You adjusted yourself in your bed, shuffling as far off to the side without disturbing the line in your arm and motioning your head to the empty space.

"What're you…?"

"Hop up, Mags," you tried to order him with a sleepy chuckle. "That's no way to sleep, and also I want my husband to hold me."

He climbed on to the bed, holding you gently as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sleep, sweet reckless girl," he whispered, finally feeling like he could breathe easier now that he had you safe in his arms.

"Y/N Martinsson," you mumbled with a yawn, snuggling against his chest, so sleepy you didn't hear how his heart began to sprint in his chest. "I quite like the sound of that."

Magnus found it near impossible to breathe, his mind immediately bombarded with a vision of you in a myriad of white dresses, walking down the aisle to him. Exchanging vows. Becoming his wife. "Careful, sweetheart. Any more talk like that and I'll go to the jeweler's the second you're discharged." He struggled to keep his tone light, doing his best not to wake you up.

"Hmph, don't," you grumbled. "Too expensive."

"What?" he breathed out, in complete disbelief at what he was hearing. "You would marry--No. Not right now. We'll talk about this when they take you off the morphine, darling."

"No need," you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. "I'd marry you tomorrow with a ring pop and a jukebox at the hospital chapel, Magnus Martinsson."

Your breathing evened out after that, leaving your boyfriend to process what you'd said all alone. He looked at your sleeping face, shakily pressing another kiss to the top of your head. "When you've fully recovered from this nightmare that monster subjected you to today, I'll make it real," he whispered into your hair, hoping that you'd hear him through your sleep. "I quite like the sound of Y/N Martinsson, too."

A/N: *insert fanfare sound effect here* That's another request done! And these two blorbos are safe and sound in their little bubble where no one's gonna fuck with them anymore 🥹💖 Now on to the next and lemme just tell y'all now…it's angsty and it's 3 parts and we're headed back to our stabby mischievous babey 👀

But before we get there…I might have something for y'all in the next few days involving Centrum Ad Hiddles…

In the words of Scooby Doo…ruh roh…😳👀

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