#reader's arm gets grazed by bullet
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selineram3421 · 2 years ago
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Song Rec: Aerodynamic by Daft Punk
Isekai'd
Part 7: Bullets Whizzing By
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Part 6
~
Vash (Tristamp) X Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ cussing, all caps for screeching dialog, weapons and guns(pew pew),reader has an idea(its not a great one), gullet graze, blood ⚠
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You woke up before the sun rose, going out to buy what you could find that was on your list.
Vash should be at the diner soon, so I have to hurry. You think and rush over to the first shop. Let's hope they sell in bulk.
"Fuck."
The suns had risen and when you arrived to the shops they were all closed.
I should have done this yesterday! You scowl and hear guns start firing off.
Now you were running to go on one of the rooftops to try and spot the blonde haired man while he was on the run.
"ITS TOO FUCKING EARLY FOR THIS!!", you shout.
.
Vash ran along building rooftops and pipes, bullets whizzing by, just barely missing him.
"AAAAH!", he yelped and then shouted as he jumped through a narrow space between buildings, spinning through the air as more people shot at him before landing on a roof.
He rolled and jumped off of it seconds after, making panicked sounds before yelling out again.
"Don't let him get away!", he heard Rosa yell.
Turning around after sprinting down some stairs, he sees someone and jumps over the hand rail as they start shooting. Running through a small hallway made by the buildings, he feels a short moment of peace before skidding to a stop when another person shows up at the end of it.
"Found him!", a man says and starts shooting.
"AAAH!", the humanoid typhoon jumps, dodging the bullets and starts running again.
He runs down an alleyway, jumping when at the ledge and screams when he realizes its pretty high. His foot hits an oil barrel when getting closer to the ground, effectively making him slip and fall back.
As he sits up, more people show to the right and start shooting, not even giving him a second to groan out in pain.
"WHAAHAHA!", he yelps jumping up as the bullets miss him, making his way over to hop off another ledge.
Landing on the space between stairs, he quickly runs down, turning at the corner to continue the descent.
"There he is!", a man says and aims at him.
Vash makes a few more panicked noises when they release another round of bullets just behind him.
At some point he gets enough distance, running on a bridge like structure.
Looking back, he doesn't notice the three figures with guns until facing forward, making him stop in place.
"Uh oh.", he says with a nervous smile, raising his hands up.
"We've got him.", someone says from behind.
"Huh?", he turns his head, seeing three more armed people running up.
He stays in place.
How am I gonna get out of this?
"Heads up!"
Looking over, he sees a rope being tossed at him by the female reporter.
He rushes forward and grabs the rope at the end of the noose. "Oh!"
Before any bullets could hit him the rope yanks him towards a building, making him have to run along the wall of it so he doesn't crash into it. More people shoot at him as he does so.
The rope pulls him up really high.
"AAAAAAHHH!", he screams before feeling himself start to fall.
And then he screams again.
"Ah!", its short, because a second later he lands on the two reporters.
The three let out a collective grunt in pain.
.
You watched as the town ran wild trying to get Vash from one of the highest rooftops.
Seeing this episode and all its angles was fun, but actually seeing it from the sidelines was a different story.
All that jumping and running has to be difficult.
Then you heard the scream of him being yanked up by the rope and decided to do your part to help.
I can't believe I'm doing this. You grumble a few curses as you go down some stairs, taking off your coat. Rem better show up after all of this shit 'cuz I'm gonna need her to explain all of her cryptic ass shit!
The heat comes back to bother you for a moment.
As you make it to the last step, you flip your coat inside out, the red lining from the inside now vissible.
Putting it back on and fixing it, you think over your life choices.
"I'm gonna get shot.", you say in a whine and put the hood over your head.
Then you start running down the alley way.
"Hey! I think I saw him!", someone yells.
Its only been a fucking second! You cry internally and keep running. Let's hope that Tomas is out now!
Turning down a corner, you see a small group of armed people, and one of them spots you.
Oh shit.
"There!", they yell and start shooting.
"Ah!", you yelp and jump out of their lone of fire, running the opposite way.
"FOLLOW HIM!"
Bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea-!
You let out another scream when a bullet whizzes by your head.
REALLY BAD IDEAAAAA!!
Going into an alley way, you run between the buildings.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck!
As you run out of the alley, a bullet grazes your arm.
MOTHER FUCKER!
You wince but keep running.
After a while you stop, gasping for breath while hiding in the shadows. Taking off the coat, you check your wounded arm and hiss. Blood going down your arm, some of it staining the white side of your coat.
"Never again.", you sigh and get up, making your way back to the Inn, placing the coat over your shoulder.
"I hope he made it to the entrance."
There's a loud crash coming from somewhere to the right side of town.
"POWER IS JUSTICE! POWER IS TRUTH!"
You hear a voice coming from a loud speaker.
"THERE IS NO FUTURE FOR THE SNIVELING SLUG WHO CAN'T FIGHT! COME OUT VASH THE STAMPEDE, THE FURIOUS FIST OF THE NEBRASKA FAMILY CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!"
"He made it.", you sigh, not bothering to turn around, feeling your legs ache from all the running. "I'll sit this one out and come back with my medic pack."
"COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE!", the old man says.
"Ugh.", you groan and face palm. "And then the psycho shows up right after!"
Why are there so many crazy people!?
As you made it to the Inn and entered your room, you checked your ammo and picked up your bag. Before stepping out, you heard an explosion.
Fuck.
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Please send over some songs that you think would be great for this fic!
~Seline, the person.
Next: Part 8
Taglist@
@summerdazed @lunar-archangel @+?
ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd
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reiderwriter · 7 months ago
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📃 Desk Duty 📃
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Unit Chief Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Summary: After taking a bullet on a case, Spencer orders you to desk duty. After two months of pushing papers and his pushing you away for fear of hurting you, you've had enough.
Warnings: Established BDSM scenario, public sex, masturbation (female and male), mentions of sex toys, breaking and entering, multiple orgasms, squirting, shoe riding, slapping (ass, face, pussy), wet/dirty/messy sex, deep-throaring, face fucking, exhibitionism, risky sex, creampie, sloppy sex, pet play (puppy), Hard Dom Spencer, bratty sub reader, degradation (slut, whore, bitch used). Confessions of love at the end because I'm not a monster.
A/N: Hello, it's me, painfully single, back with another in a series of fics that I think will haunt my (wet) dreams for eternity. Thank you to @lightvixxen for requesting shoe riding all those moons ago, I am so glad we share in the same brand of brain rot. Enjoy~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
The first time you were shot, you were surprised it hurt so much. Of course, you knew it was going to hurt. You knew you'd eventually be shot. 
But the graze to your arm stung like a bitch, and had you whimpering on the floor of a warehouse like a small child who'd fallen off their bike for the first time. 
You'd picked yourself back up, and, luckily, the shot had avoided doing any serious damage, but you were relegated to desk duty for two months after. Just until you could prove you weren't traumatised, and there wasn't any permanent damage to your arm.
Two months of staying home while your boss gallivanted around the country, happily diving in front of bullets and jumping on bombs. Two months of staying home waiting for him to come back and rail you. 
You'd been sleeping with Spencer Reid practically since he'd become the Unit Chief, and with the announcement that there were only a few more weeks left until Emily Prentiss came back from her special task force, you were really losing time alone in the office you'd been enjoying the pleasures of one another in. 
Of course, there would still be motel rooms for you later, but soon he wouldn't have the keys to your room, making your secret trysts slightly riskier. You weren't sure you wanted everyone in the office to know just what it was the two of you were getting up to in your spare time. 
So, with your last two months of freedom relegated to desk duty, you sulked. 
Spencer was clear that he was leaving you behind so you could recuperate, but you didn't exactly expect him to go cold turkey. 
You'd been apart before, having been sent on separate inmate interviews, and you'd made do with a poorly connected video call, a dildo and your hands, getting all the inspiration you needed watching him pump his cock in his fist.  
But somehow, your injury had made him borderline chaste, and he refused to even touch you while you were still in - his words, not yours - recovery. 
It had been a month since he'd fucked you. Hell, it had been a month since you'd even seen his cock. A month since you'd had any kind of orgasm, first because your dominant hand had been out of action, and then because you'd felt so frustrated without him, you couldn't bring yourself to do it alone. 
He messaged you daily, called practically once every eight hours, and made sure you were eating and sleeping even from halfway across the country. 
But he didn't make any mention of your growing frustration, even as you tried your best to tempt him into sin. 
A month into purgatory, you'd started hinting at your own needs. Your teammates had taken a case in Atlanta, and you'd stuck behind a days drive away and heard absolutely nothing. 
You'd called, and Luke had picked up, making his presence known before you could royally screw up and beg for something to fuck. 
“H-Hi, Luke. I was just wondering how the case was going. Is there anything I can help with from the office?” You asked, stammering on the phone as you pulled your hand out from between your thighs. 
“You want to help? At 11pm at night?”
“Sure do! You know me��� go-getter?” You stuttered the words, not even believing them yourself, biting your lip in anxiety and hoping that Luke would just think you were going stir crazy. 
“I'll hand you to Reid, he's been talking about some case files you might be able to help with.” 
“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 
You heard the phone switch hands, and then you heard movement until the line went quieter, and Spencer's voice popped into your ear. 
“Y/N?” 
“I miss you,” you sighed before you could say anything else, fingers sliding between your thighs before you could think to stop yourself. 
“I miss you, too,” he whispered hesitantly, but you heard the smile in his voice as he answered. 
“You're working so late tonight, I'd hoped…” you trailed off, feeling your skin heat as your free hands lipped into your underwear and you touched yourself for real this time. 
“We think he's working under the same MO as the Night Stalker, like a copycat, so we're keeping to late hours. What's that sound?” 
“Nothing,” you said, giving your lie away almost immediately with a moan. 
“Are you… Y/N, are you touching yourself?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 
“I told you I missed you. It's been a month since you've touched me, someone has to do it-” 
“Stop it.” 
His words were blunt, and there was no hint of excitement in them, no telling if he was saying this so he could play a part in your unravelling. 
“What?” 
“Stop touching yourself. Y/N, you are not allowed to touch yourself.” 
“Not-? Spencer, what the fuck!” You exploded, sitting up from your comfortable position on the bed, set alight in indignance. 
“I'm the only one that gets to touch you like that, you're not allowed to cum unless I'm there,” he ground out, and just as you heard the smile in his voice earlier, you heard the frustration and arousal now. 
“Well, Spencer, if you'd have brought me along on this case instead of leaving me here, maybe you'd get a say in who gets to make me cum.” 
“Y/N, you're injured, and you haven't been cleared to fly. A doctor needs to-”
“You're a doctor. Technically. You could sign off on me. You could've had me right there in your bed tonight, but no.” 
He scoffed down the line, and you saw his face flash so vividly in your head that it pissed you off. He was hotter when he was angry. 
“Nice try. I tried that myself once, but it doesn't work. Now go to sleep and get some rest.” 
You opened your mouth to argue, but he hung up. His words lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and you threw the phone down in frustration. 
He wasn't listening again, and you were sick of it, and you we're sick of pushing paper at a cubical when you should've been out in the field doing your actual job. You were sick of being celibate and at home alone, when you should've been in a dark corner somewhere letting your boss use your body, letting him pin you to the wall and work out his frustrations.  
You should've had your lips wrapped around his cock, you should've had his hands buried in your cunt, slapping your ass, his teeth teasing your nipples, something. 
Instead, you had your phone camera and a bed, and a personal vendetta against the word 'no' coming from Spencer Reid's mouth. If he wanted you to stop touching yourself, he'd better get his ass home and make you. 
Shedding your clothes, you set up your camera and began your week long crusade. 
The first video received a response in the form of a call you let go straight to voice mail as you recorded the second one. 
He didn't call again after that, but you knew he watched each and every video you sent. 
You knew he watched the video of you fucking yourself on a wall mounted dildo in the shower. You wondered if he let him imagine it was him, taking his cock in hand in the morning as he washed and prepared himself for the day. 
You knew he watched the video of you playing with your boobs alone in the elevator at work after hours. You wondered if he was still working late when he saw that one, or if, like last time, maybe Luke had grabbed his phone first and seen it before him. . 
You knew he watched the video you shot in his apartment. It wasn't that hard to get into, knowing exactly where the spare key was hidden and letting yourself in comfortably. You let yourself dress in one of his shirts and set the camera up, pushing a bullet vibe inside yourself, and turning on the camera, playing with the hem of the shirt and the sheets below until you finally flashed the camera and him the sight of your wet cunt. 
You filmed a few videos there, fingering yourself, spreading yourself so he could see just how far you'd opened yourself up for him, sinking down on to progressively bigger silicone cocks and mumbling his name over and over again. 
You knew he watched every video, even though you'd sent ten over the space of an evening. You knew he was likely somewhere stroking his large, hot cock, wishing he was buried deep in you, but too stubborn to let you know that now. 
The day after the case ended, you knew that his return meant punishment, but you couldn't stop yourself. 
An hour before the teams expected arrival time, you excused yourself to Spencer's office. The first time he'd fucked you had been in there. He'd pushed you over his lap and slapped some sense into you, spanking you until you were a drippy mess waiting for his cock to enter you sharp and fast. 
You'd since sucked his cock under the desk more times than you could count, and the view from the window was more than familiar to you as you enjoyed being pushed up against it as he took you from behind, the both of you revelling in the fact that anyone could see you defiling the building together. 
With half an hour to spare before he returned and ended your fun and games, you mounted the arm of his couch and began rubbing yourself against it. You rocked your hips slowly back and forth against it - as horny as you were, it was still embarrassing to be so horny you'd resulted to humping pieces of furniture to meet your needs. 
You'd thought about getting drunk and finding a random dick to take home with you, but it didn't interest you half so much as fucking with Spencer Reid did. You'd never had the talk about exclusivity, but you knew just as well as he did that you were locked in. He was your boyfriend, whether he realised it or not.
And now, you simply needed his cock so badly, nothing else would do. The closest you could get was a piece of furniture he'd fucked you on before. 
You slipped your panties off quickly as your timer sounded a ten minute warning, knowing his plane would be landing any second now. You'd factored in the walk from the jet to the office, praying to the gods above that he took the initiative to get ahead on paperwork instead of going straight home. 
You rocked back and forth on the arm of the couch until his door opened narrowly and he let himself in, just as your clit rubbed the corner of the couch and you moaned out gloriously. 
“Y/N,” he hissed as he slammed the door shut. You didn't stop even as he crossed the room and grabbed your hips, instead lunging for his lips and meeting them with your own. 
Your tongue clashed with him for the first time in a lifetime, and you whimpered at how good he still felt pressed up against you. His chest was a solid shield, and your puffy nipples pushed up against it, rubbing deliciously with each grind. His hands were large, his fingers long as they clawed themselves around your hips and drew you up.
“You just can't follow orders, can you?” He asked between kisses, between breaths where you weren't sure if he'd slap you or shove his fingers down your throat. “I should fire you,” he whispered as he reluctantly pulled away. 
“But Spencer,” you said, gasping jokingly as you pawed at the front of his pants. “Who would you fuck on cases then? Who would be your controversially young fuck doll?” 
You meant it to be a joke, but the slap he delivered to your ass made you think twice as you clapped a hand over your mouth. 
His hands roughly pulled you into him again, and you were unable to rise up enough again before he hit you again. You jilted forwards with a little moan and just gave in to the sensation, pressing your face into the pillows as your hips rose. 
“You're acting like such a desperate little slut, I don't think you deserve to even lick my cock. Fuck, I don't even think you deserve to lick my shoe,” his words cut deep as you realised how angry he was, his fingers tangling in your hair he yanked you upwards. 
“Wait, please - Spencer, please, I need-” 
“Need what? You need to suck cock? You need to put yourself on display in a public place? Need everyone around you to know just what it is we do when we're alone?” With each question, he worked on bruising your ass cheeks harder, until he finally pushed you to the floor, and you sank down, automatically spreading your legs for him. 
“Pathetic. You don't deserve this cock, baby.” 
“No!” You cried out, not willing to accept that outcome at all as you panicked. “I'll do anything, please, Spencer, I'll do anything!” 
You whimpered and cried out in real frustration and fear, knowing that he absolutely would kick you out if you didn't act fast. Spencer may have been fine with you taking control some days, but this obviously wasn't one of them. You sat yourself on your knees and clasped your hands together, attempting to seem half the serious devotee and half the irresistible vixen whose chest was accentuated by the movement.
“Okay. Show me just how much of a desperate slut you are,” he said, lifting his foot from the ground and nudging it between your thighs. 
Reluctantly, you widened your stance, spreading apart just enough for him to notch his shoe against your clothed pussy. 
“Ride my shoe, Y/N. You're such a good little boot-licker. It shouldn't be a problem, right?” As if to answer your own question for you, he bobbed his knee gently, and your clit ground into the edge of his shoelaces, causing a sharp, fast burst of pleasure to spark through you. 
You still were too shocked to answer, but he smoothed your hair from your eyes as he continued to bounce his foot, and you left all of your concerns behind, slowly grinding down. 
“What a dirty little slut, I didn't think you'd actually do it.”
Wrapping your arms around his leg, you pressed your hips up and down hesitantly, looking into his eyes as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. 
“That's it, good girl,” he said, letting his leg go still as you did all the work, shaking your hips back and forth on his shoe as you gave him pleading looks, unable to form words for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.  
“You look like a puppy,” he blurted out, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, hard, exposing your throat to him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Like one of those puppies who gets so excited to see you, she starts humping you. So fucking horny and desperate. You wouldn't even care who was in the room with us, right now, would you? You'd just keep going until yiu came.” 
You gasped as he slapped your face, tongue falling out of your mouth as he inspected his little play puppy. He smiled, as if happy with your reactions, and leant back on the sofa, releasing your hair from his grip as you continued to struggle in vain toward your orgasm. 
It was another two or three seconds before you realised he was pulling his hard cock from his pants, and another moment or two before he slid his hands back into your hair and guided your dumb, stupid, wet mouth over the top of his cock quickly. 
You let him move your head just how he liked, let him push you down almost farther than you thought you could go. You ground your bare clit down into his shoe as you deepened your breaths, relaxing your body as you took inch after inch of his cock down your throat. 
His hands were wound so tight in your hair that there wasn't space to move. You gagged, once and twice, but he held you in place still, enjoying the spit that spluttered around the base of his cock, the spasms of your contracting throat against the tip and length of his cock. You breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your nose, scratching your cheek as you flattened out your tongue under his cock. You wished he would move, wished he would give you the space you needed to cum faster. 
The desperation of the last few months built up and built up, and you knew that you were close to cumming, your hips rocking out of tempo now, crashing into his foot wildly, ass shaking as you felt his shoelaces rubbing uncomfortably against your thighs. 
“God, what a pathetic little bitch, are you going to cum? Cum on my shoe, whore, show me how fucking desperate you are.” 
You felt the exact moment your body convulsed against him, you knew the exact movement that made you cum, because you felt the flood of moisture pool underneath you as you squirted all over his floor. You made a note of reminding him to replace the rug before Emily returned. 
Your whole body shook as you sat in the pool of your own cum, but he refused to let you pull away. 
“Has my little puppy made a mess? What a shame. You can't stop yet, though.” 
His grip on your face somehow became stronger, though not unpleasant, as he pulled your head up the length of his cock. You spluttered slightly, feeling the tension slip out of you as he emptied your throat. You didn't have more than a second to react before he quickly snapped your head back down over his cock, down to the base of his dick. 
“Keep up, Y/N, this is what you wanted, remember.” 
You choked on his cock, and he smiled down at you, taking your gags for nods as he proceeded to fuck your throat, deep and hard. 
“So wet and warm for me, like a perfect little pet,” he said, hips already lifting off the couch as he tried to sink deeper into you. 
You knew from experience that he'd soon grow tired of the limits of your mouth. He liked to hear you. He liked to see you drooling rather than feel it on his skin. As much as he could force his cock down your throat - and you deeply enjoyed when he did - he could get deeper if he sank into your pussy and you both knew it. 
This part was just to lube his cock up, nice and wet, until he could take you nice and quick without having to touch your pussy. He needed you nice and wet and ready for him, especially on days like today where you'd been nothing but a cock tease in need of a harsh fucking. You deserved nothing more.
As predicted, he pulled your head off his cock after a few seconds and hauled you to your feet. You tried to climb onto him, to grip his cock in your hand and just sink down where you belonged, but he stood, too, lifting you up with him. 
“Window,” he said, and you knew he must be close if he was ordering you around one word at a time. You nodded, but he kept his hands on you, moving you to the window quickly. 
You knew he'd bend you over, take you against the outdoor window, whispering in your ear that anyone outside could see you if they just looked up. Instead, this time, he moved you to the opposite side of the office. The window he pressed you against was the one overlooking your desks, the one where, should he happen to open the blinds, every member of your team would be able to look up and watch you take his dick. 
“Everyone left,” he whispered quickly as he shifted the blinds up an inch so you could see. 
You breathed a sigh of relief noting that it was as empty as he claimed, but it didn't last long as he gently pressed his cock into your cunt, finally filling you how you'd needed to be filled for the last 60 days. 
“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!” 
All thoughts about the office below faded as he lifted your leg in his hand and let it rest on the edge of the window, pushing your face against the cold glass. Your office may have been empty, but that wasn't to say that there wasn't someone working late in the other departments, a janitor happening to pass through. 
You knew, but you didn't care as you begged him to fill you up more and more. 
“Just like that, just like that, yes!!! Fuck yes, Spencer I missed this, I missed you. Missed you so much,” you moaned as your hands slipped down the glass, already fogged with condensation, your hot breath hitting the cold glass. 
“Needed this? You've been fucking yourself nightly for the last week. You didn't need this like I needed this,” he moaned, biting into your neck with a sharp kiss as you moaned loudly for him.
“Two m-months. You haven't fucked me for two months, what else was I supposed to do?” 
He groaned in your ear again, reaching a hand around you and slapping your clit as he formulated an answer. 
“Rest, you were supposed to rest,” he said, thrusts speeding up as your cunt gripped him tighter and tighter the closer you got to your second orgasm. 
He groaned and pressed your face into the glass, holding you there and screwing his eyes shut as you both chased release. 
“I didn't want to rest, I w-wanted to be by your side.” 
His head rested against your shoulder as he felt the last waves of pleasure race towards him. His hand pushed down to your clit and rubbed you, sending you right over the edge with him as he filled you with his cum. 
Neither of you could stay upright, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. Usually when he came inside you, he waited a few moments to pull out so he didn't make so much mess when he did. But in his exhaustion, in your shared bliss of finally reaching that precipice after so long, he slipped out early, as cum was still shooting from him. 
You heaped together on the floor, chests heaving as you lay on top of him, your peace only broken by a single thought. 
“We..-’ you gasped, breathing unsteady. “We need to deep clean this office before Emily comes back.” 
He looked down at you, a look so serious and shocked you wondered if he was angry. And then he laughed. Short and soft, he giggled, and you couldn't help but join in, wrapping your arms around your stomach as it began to hurt, chest heaving from the pain of all your joy. 
He sat up and gave you a hand up as well as you surveyed the damage. 
“The rug has to go,” you said, feeling hot and embarrassed as you noticed the new wet stain on the near offensive fluffy thing. 
“We should probably get some new throw pillows, too,” he remarked, and you nodded with a grimace. You made to stand up, but your legs felt weak, and you wobbled, but he was there to catch you, as he stood. 
"Maybe just a new couch," you muttered, flushed with heat as you remembered how you'd humped the arm rest not even twenty minutes ago.
He closed the blinds before moving back to the couch and sitting you down on his lap once again, such a familiar place for you to be these days.
“You….” He started, worrying g his bottom lip with his teeth. “You really missed me?” 
You startled, taken aback by the question. You thought the videos had made it clear, let alone the last half hour of intimacy. 
“I… Yes, Spencer. I missed you a lot. I always miss you.” 
“You… you do?” 
You nodded again and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 
“Y/N, when I am no longer your boss, in approximately a weeks time, would you possibly consider being my girlfriend?” 
For the second time in the last two minutes, the man had you floored. And perhaps a little bit angry.
“I'm not… I'm not your girlfriend now?” 
“Hmm? Oh, I-” 
“Because I already told my friends about you, and I was definitely saying the word boyfriend, but if that's not what this is, I can correc-” 
You saw the panicked look in his eye as he pulled you in for one last kiss. 
“That's what this is!” he said frantically, cutting you off when you opened your mouth with another kiss. “I thought you wouldn't think that this was- no!” He kissed you again as you tried again to speak. 
“Listen to me! I'm o-older than you, I thought I had to ask still. Do people not ask anymore?” He kissed you before you could answer. 
“Rhetorical question.”
“I love yo-” you attempted to confess, but his lips covered yours swiftly, even as his eyes opened wide when he pulled away. 
“Wait, no, say that again,” he begged, eyes weak and shiny and absolutely endearingly pathetic. 
You shook your head and sealed your lips, miming, zipping them shut and throwing away the key. 
“Y/N! Tell me again, tell me you love me again,” he said, kissing each of your cheeks. You poked his chest hard, and he kissed you once more. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, and kissed you again, trying to draw from your lips the words he had cut off earlier, losing himself in the pleasure of the moment as you sat together in the dark office, totally enamoured with one another. 
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mggslover · 2 months ago
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Killing machine
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In which reader shocks herself with her abilities in the field, leading her to doubt the person she's become.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: angst, fluff Tropes: wound cleaning Word count: 1,8k A/n: the first one shot on this blog and also the first I've written in years!!
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The sound of her heavy breathing and the occasional clicking of her broken flashlight fill the stuffy, cramped space of the abandoned container Y/n finds herself in. The BAU is after a team of unsubs who’ve been killing elderly widows who come from old money, using their grief as a way to make it into their lives and homes. They murder them in cold blood, stealing their most prized possessions and storing them in abandoned locations. For the past two days, Y/n has been visiting warehouses all over the state, trying to identify who the found property belongs to and finding new leads on where the unsubs could be. 
Today should’ve been another day of clearing out warehouses and containers. Y/n and the team split up after arriving on the property. Callahan, JJ, and Rossi taking one warehouse, Hotch, Morgan, and Reid taking the other, while Y/n got the task to search some smaller containers around the area. She squints her eyes in an attempt to fight the night blindness as her flashlight flickers. “Come on, just work with me,” she mumbles as she slaps her palm against the back of the flashlight, trying to get it to properly work. Y/n gives a small sigh of satisfaction when a bright light erupts out of the flashlight. As she tilts her head back up, she’s greeted by the chest of a male just inches away from her. Her flashlight shatters to the ground, her hard effort gone as the lens breaks into tiny pieces. The male, who she identifies as one of the unsubs, reaches in his jean pocket where the handle of a Glock is sticking out. Before the unsub has the chance to make a single movement, a bullet derived from Y/n’s gun makes a quick and clean hole in his forehead. She’s met with the familiar ringing in her ear and natural response of flinching as his blood splatters onto her. 
She hears a creak and turns around, expecting a team member to make sure she’s alright. 
“Hey, I-“
She stops dead in her tracks as she catches a small dim of light behind a wooden crate, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she makes out two eyes. The click of a gun makes her snap her head around, and she soon figures out it wasn’t just one of the unsubs hiding in here… it’s all of them. Gun in her clammy hand, she guides herself by the small sounds of movement that suddenly sound as loud as the beating of drums. Adrenaline courses through her veins, her gaze only focused on what’s in front of her as she starts firing. One by one the unsubs hidden behind boxes and shelves fall to the ground. She lets out a yelp and stumbles when a bullet grazes her cheek, making her land on her back. Y/n quickly holds herself up on her arms as she hits the final blow at her shooter. The sound of the gunshots had barely registered in her mind before the deafening silence followed. Her grip remains strong on her gun as her heart pounds into her chest. 
“Y/n!” Spencer’s shriek of panic is heard across the container. He stumbles his way over the boxes and bodies on the ground, only focused on her. “I thought you were dead,” he says as he kneels next to her, brows furrowed and mouth softly agape as he flashes his flashlight in her face, examining her. She hisses as his cold fingers trace the wound on her cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes. 
The rest of the team follows Spencer into the container. Derek crouches to observe the lifeless body of the assumed leader of the group of unsubs. “Damn girl, that’s a good shot,” he compliments. 
Rossi looks around at the scattered bodies. “It’s not just him, all of these are aimed perfectly,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “I need to take some extra classes from you. I can’t even shoot like this in GTA.” His words earn some chuckles, but it makes her stomach churn. She didn’t even think twice about taking them down—how was that something she should feel proud of? The praise made her feel like a weapon, like she was being recognized for something she didn’t want to be good at. 
Hotch’s eyes softened when he noticed her clear discomfort and the state of shock she was still in as she couldn’t find the words to speak. “Reid, get Y/n to the medics outside and then take her home. We’ll get the paperwork done tomorrow.”
-
As Spencer turns the key into his apartment door, he makes sure to keep his hand steady on Y/n’s lower back, gently guiding her inside. “Let’s go clean this wound up. The medic told me you have to sanitize it twice a day, before going to bed and after waking up.” Spencer continues rambling on about the medical books he’s read and how he’s practiced cleaning dirty cuts on himself, as he makes her sit down on the edge of the bathtub. She doesn’t process any of his words, though. Her mind keeps spinning back to the container, how she didn’t experience a moment of doubt as she saw the unsubs armed and how meticulously she ended them. How easy it was to end the lives of five human beings in the span of a single minute. 
She tilts her head with a hum as Spencer repeats her name. “Can I take your vest off?” She nods as she lifts her arms, giving Spencer access. He helps her lift out of it,  tossing the bulletproof vest behind him. She cringes as she notices the dried blood and gunpowder coating it. “Hey… I’m right here, you’re okay,” Spencer softly coos, turning Y/n’s attention back on him. 
He traces the back of his finger against her unhurt cheek. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” When she doesn’t respond, he gently cups her chin, tilting it up to bring her attention to him. He crouches so that he can look her in the eyes. “Tell me what’s bothering you.” She bites down on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she has. She knows she can trust Spencer, but she’s feeling embarrassed. Embarrassed by the fact that she’s struggling so much about something that should be routine by now after the number of years she’s worked at the BAU, but also embarrassed by the fact that it’s supposed to be routine, since it shouldn’t. She shouldn’t have the skill to perform headshots like that and she definitely shouldn’t be praised about it by her colleagues. She knows they mean well, but she cannot get rid of the sick taste in her mouth. 
“Sweetheart, listen to me. I know it was terrifying being alone in there. I know you don’t like the dark or tight spaces, but it’s over now. You did so well.” 
“Did I?” Her voice comes out harsher than intended, making Spencer tilt his head in confusion. 
“I killed five people, Spencer, five,” she says as her voice shakes. Spencer rubs her shoulders up and down. “You were left with no choice, there was no other option.” 
“That doesn’t make what I did any better.” She whispers, her voice barely audible as the tears start to spill. She shakes her head as she scoffs a laugh in disbelief. “God… you heard what Rossi said. I’m a killing machine, Spencer! I didn’t even know I was capable of doing that.” She says. “Garcia fights the justice system to get the man who almost killed her off of death row, and what do I do? I don’t give them a single chance and kill them without even thinking about it. I swear Spence, it happened as a reflex. It shouldn’t happen as a reflex!” Y/n’s anxiety builds up as she keeps thinking of reasons as to why she’s a bad person. The empathy is visible in Spencer’s eyes as his hand trembles slightly as he reaches for the dirty bandage. It wasn’t the wound he was worried about— it was what he couldn’t see. How the strongest person he knew was shaking in front of him, wanting nothing more than to protect her from everything the job took from her. 
“You cannot compare those situations. Garcia saw the potential of him bettering his life. You had no other choice, you needed to protect yourself.” 
She swallows. “I used to be a lot like her, you know.” The memories of Y/n’s early days in her career flood her mind. Back when she could feel proud of her ability to protect others. Back when she could still relate to believing the good in people. She used to think every life had some value worth saving. She doesn’t remember the moment that changed. 
Spencer softly smiles down at her. “You still are, love. You’re a soft-spoken kind soul, you just put some protective layers over that. I know it’s hard to reconcile who you are now with who you were when you started this job,” Spencer says as he caresses her freshly bandaged cheek. “Your strength might have hardened you, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your compassion. You’re still the same person. You just do it differently now.” His words make her melt as she leans into his touch, surrendering herself to the security he offered. Spencer smiles to himself as he guides her up off of the bathtub, pulling her into his embrace and resting his chin on her head. 
“You’re such a caring person, sweetheart. The fact that you’re worrying about this tells me enough of how good of a person you are.” Her eyes water as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I don’t know anyone as gentle and loving as you,” he whispers between kisses as he continues showering her in words of affection and reassurance.
 “You’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever met and you’re amazing at the job that you do. The risk you took has saved so many people, love, just think about it.” Warm, full tears soak his sweatshirt as she buries her face in his chest. Finding gratitude in the fact that her boyfriend always knows the right words to comfort her. 
He takes her face in his hands. “I’m not going to lie to you. It’s going to take a while to get over this, but we’ll go through it together,” he says. Those sweet, brown bambi eyes looking deeply into hers make her believe every word he says. 
“Will you help me? When I need to fill in the evaluation?” She softly asks, already dreading going through the case again, but Spencer's soft gaze calms her. 
“I will, love. I’ll be there every step of the way.”
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nick-writes-stuff · 4 days ago
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Various Squid Game Characters x injured gn!reader
(Includes Gi-hun, In-ho/Young-il, Thanos, and Dae-ho)
!warnings: canon-typical violence, use of Y/N, cursing, in Dae-ho's specifically it is kinda implied that reader was using the women's bathroom but it doesn't say anything about the actual gender of the reader
a/n: this is most likely noncompliant to the canon, but it's fine. i might do another part with different characters later, but for now, i wanted to get this out asap. hope you enjoy!
Gi-hun:
- Winners don't get hurt, right? That's what you thought, but here you were trudging back to the dorms with a gunshot wound. A bullet must have ricocheted off the pavement because something grazed your side.
- You were one of the last ones to complete your game of marbles, so you walked back to the dorm alone.
- When you entered the room, he could tell there was something wrong, but he assumed it was shock from the cutthroat nature of the game. He'd been through it before, and he was still shaken to his core.
- You walked over to the area your group had claimed for themselves. You sat on the ground, arms wrapped around yourself. It looked like you were hugging yourself, a common self-soothing practice, but it was really just a way to put pressure on the wound covertly.
- He noticed how quiet you were being even after the remaining members had started chatting.
- "Y/N, I'm glad you made it out of there." He said. He watched your reaction closely.
- You nodded, murmuring a soft "Thanks, you too."
- He continued to watch you, concern growing with each passing moment. You started to grow pale as you sat there. Your breathing was labored despite your attempt to hide it.
- "Hey, are you okay?" He asked. It was a stupid question, and he knew it. How could you be okay here? Especially after a game like marbles.
- He didn't expect you to shake your head. You looked like you were going to cry. He moved closer to you, blocking the view of the others in an attempt to provide some level of privacy.
- "What's wrong?" You tried to speak but you couldn't get the words out. "Hey, what happened?" He asked. He lowered his voice, but you could hear his tone become more frantic.
- You wordlessly pulled your hand away from your wound, showing him the crimson staining it and your clothes.
- You noticed his gaze become distant. He looked at you and saw Sae-byeok, and you knew exactly what was happening. He hadn't told you about her specifically, but he had mentioned a close friend being injured. You hated bringing back those memories for him.
- You started crying, sputtering out a string of apologies. "I'm sorry. S-sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't-"
- That made him snap back to reality. He cut you off. "No, no, it's not your fault. You're gonna be okay." He said quickly. He helped you lay back so he could get a better look at it.
- "Guys, we need some help over here." He said, keeping his voice low. It got their attention regardless.
- "Can one of you get me one of the bedsheets?" Gi-hun asked, to which Jung-bae rushed to get. Jun-hee passed over an unopened water bottle. "Here! I didn't drink it with lunch so I could save it for later." She said.
- Dae-ho took the request for help in a different way. "Hello?! Can we get a doctor in here!? Someone's-"
- "Dae-ho, stop it!" He snapped. The man's face changed to a look of shock. "They won't come. Trust me." He said softer. Dae-ho muttered a soft, "Sorry."
- You continued to cry, trying to keep yourself quiet. "I'm gonna need to pull this up, okay?" he asked, fingers grabbing the fabric of your shirt. You nodded, grimacing as he peeled the fabric off the wound.
"Y/N.... what happened?" He asked. Jung-bae and Jun-hee were folding the bedsheet to make it manageable to wrap around you.
- "I-I think a bullet ricocheted or something. I don't know. I'm sorry." You stammered, flinching at the cold feeling of the water as he poured some onto it. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.
- He bandaged you up the best he could with the supplies on hand. Once he was done, you sat up with a wince. "Careful." He warned, but you could hear his playful tone returning to him.
- You leaned into him, head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you. All of you." You you said softly, looking over to your other allies. Gi-hun smiled softly. "Get some rest, okay? I'll keep watch." He said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
- Be prepared to hardly leave his sight for the rest of the games. He swears to protect you no matter what. Even when more selfish players would suggest he leave you behind. And they did suggest it, resulting in him lashing out at them. That was clearly a sore spot, as their words reminded him of Sang-woo.
- That night, he had a nightmare about the last night in his first game. The events played out as normal, but with you in the place of Sae-byeok. It was harrowing, to say the least. He may have failed her, but he will do anything to make sure you made it out of here.
- He woke up with a start, breathing faster than usual. You were in the bed pushed closer to his. You turned toward him slowly. "What's going on?" You asked in a hushed whisper.
- "It's nothing, go back to sleep." He responded. You knew better, but you didn't press him any further. However, you did carefully roll toward him, resting your head on his chest.
- He was going to scold you for moving too much, but you quickly returned to sleep. He just smiled like a lovesick fool and got some much-needed sleep.
In-ho/Young-il
(calling him young-il for clarity's sake)
- It all happened very quickly. Mingle was the most chaotic game yet. After the first two rounds, you quickly grew overwhelmed. The spinning platform didn't make the situation any better. You were getting a bit disoriented, but you were able to mask it fairly well.
- When the voice called out six, your group devised your plan to split up. When you had your plan, you ran to follow Young-il toward a room. As you stepped off the platform, your ankle twisted in a way it definitely wasn't supposed to.
- You fell to the ground, yelling out an expletive as your body hit the ground. Young-il turned around instantly, and upon seeing you, he told the group to run ahead and claim a room.
- He moved closer to you. "What happened?" He asked, his voice loud to cut through the chaos. He offered you a hand to help you up.
- You took his hand, pulling yourself up. You groaned upon bearing weight on your foot. "Twisted my ankle." You said through gritted teeth.
- He wrapped an arm around you, helping to support your weight. "I know it hurts but we have to move." He said before beginning to move. You tried to keep up as much as you could.
- You both barely made it into the door before it slammed shut. You leaned against the wall, lifting your foot up to give it a break. "Thanks." You said breathlessly.
- You limped back over to the platform. You didn't want to make it obvious that you were hurt in fear that they would leave you behind. It's survival of the fittest, after all.
- Young-il turned to face you when he got on top of the platform. He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. "Stay with me, okay?" He said softly, but you could tell it was more of an order than a request. You nodded.
- When the merry-go-round stopped and the number was announced, his arm wrapped around you to support you again. It was two, so it was just you and him you needed to worry about. You were trying your best to keep up with him. This was high stakes, as there definitely weren't enough rooms in this round.
- Around halfway to the room, you stumbled to the floor. He turned to help you up, but you insisted, "Go claim a room, I'll get there." You said. He was hesitant to leave you, but he knew your idea was the best odds for survival.
- You forced yourself up to a standing position. You took a deep breath and started limping as fast as you could.
- Some other player reached Young-il's room before you did. He snuck his way into the room. "Hurry up and shut the door man!" He shouted.
- Young-il's blood boiled. "Get the fuck out of here before I make you get out." He spat, turning to face the man.
- The man stood his ground. "They are just gonna hold you back, man. They're deadweight. You're better off with-" He was cut off by Young-il grabbing him roughly.
- You made it to the door, getting there with a few seconds to spare. You looked at Young-il. "Throw him out, quickly." You said.
- Young-il made his choice. This man didn't deserve the chance to live. He wrapped an arm around the man's throat, cutting off his airway. "Shut the door." He said, clearly straining.
- Your eyes widened, but you listened. You slammed the door shut. Soon after, you heard a sickening pop, and the player went limp. You didn't say a word. "Player 332, eliminated."
- You wouldn't say the action scared you. You wanted him to be thrown out, which would have resulted the same way. But the personal way that Young-il took the man's life without hesitation was... concerning.
- No matter what just happened, he kept you alive. Even if it was gruesome, it was the reason you are still alive. You took a deep breath, reveling in the fact that the game was over. He pulled you into a hug, let out a relieved sigh.
- "Thank you." You murmured softly. You pulled away when the doors unlocked and swung open. You limped toward the door, frantically searching the crowd for your allies. Young-il stood behind you, doing the same.
- When you started to move toward the exit, he offered you his arm again. You shook your head. You wanted to try to walk on your own, so you only took hold of his arm for balance when you needed it.
- You were scared of looking weak to the others. You already had one player try to get rid of you. You weren't deadweight. You tried to mask any signs that you were in pain, and that worked to hide the injury from most players.
- But Young-il knew what was going through your head, and he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable. When they received dinner with the forks, he started to use the fork as a means to get leverage to tear up the sheet.
- You were puzzled with what he was doing until he brought it over to you. "Can I wrap that up for you? Might give you a bit of stability." He said.
- You were shocked at his thoughtfulness. You really thought you weren't going to get sympathy. You nodded, stretching out your leg. The makeshift ace bandage worked well enough.
- He protected you both in the game and outside of it when he resumed his role as the Front Man. You found extras of your favorites in the tins your dinner came in. Your team was paired with the weakest group in Tug of War, so you had to do the least amount of work for the victory.
- Despite the fact you thought he was dead, he was still in your corner.
Thanos/Su-bong:
- Being an ally with the most chaotic and violent player in the games should have granted you a high level of protection, but being romantically involved with him should make you virtually untouchable. Keyword being "should."
- You ended up cornered in the hall on the return to the dorms from the bathroom. You found yourself pinned to the wall by your throat by another O player.
- "You finally don't have that purple-headed asshole to protect you, huh?" He spat, smirking in your face.
- You tried to struggle against him, leading him to tighten your grip on your throat. "Nuh-uh. You aren't getting away from me until I'm done with you." He said.
- You couldn't really get a sound out to alert anyone, and even if you could, you were probably out of earshot of the players in the dorms.
- The way Thanos found out was overhearing a conversation from two other players. "Where's 438?" One asked. The other snickered. "Taking care of Thanos's bitch." He said with a sick grin.
- Thanos jumped up, scaring Min-su with his sudden movement. "The fuck did you say?" He yelled, moving toward the pair. They realized they messed up and ran off. Thanos wanted to go after them, but reason told him to let them go. For now.
- He rushed over to the hallway, Nam-gyu followed with a roll of his eyes, and Min-su looked around before timidly walking toward the hallway, hovering in the doorway.
- In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you let your knees give out and tried to duck out of his grasp. It allowed you to take a gasp for air, but you couldn't get away. He slammed you back into the wall, and pain radiated through your skull.
- You grabbed his wrist and tried to dig your nails into his skin. He swung his other hand to strike you in the face. You cried out from this, a noise that made Thanos move even faster.
- "Hey asshole, what the fuck are you doing?" He yelled, running up to him and shoving him away from you. You scurried back toward Nam-gyu.
- Thanos saw red. You almost couldn't watch as he kicked the player repeatedly in the stomach. "You motherfucker." He snarled.
- After a few moments, it became harder for you to watch. Nam-gyu interrupted him first. "Thanos, leave it." He urged. He didn't acknowledge him. You heard the man sputter and spit up blood. "Su-bong, please." You pleaded, voice somewhat raspy from the pain in your throat.
- He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath before giving him one more kick and turning to leave. He instantly grabbed your hand as you walked back to the dorms.
- Before you entered the dorm, he stopped in the hallway and pulled you into a hug. He didn't want any other player to recognize that vulnerability. You felt him take a shuddering breath. "It's okay, I'm okay." You said softly.
- When you four got settled in the dorm, Thanos was noticeably quieter than usual. You caught him staring at you multiple times, likely watching the bruise form on your face and neck.
- After around an hour, he suddenly remembered the other guys who knew about your attack. He suddenly tensed up, taking a deep breath before going to stand up. You grabbed his hand. "Don't. Please."
- He sighed before pouting. You rolled your eyes at him. "Fine." He said, dragging out the word. You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He grinned.
- That night, it was hard for him to sleep. He found himself trying to listen for every noise to assess for any threats. Eventually, he was tired enough that he dragged himself out of his bed and moved to yours.
- He climbed into your bed. You woke up rather quickly, turning toward him. He had scared you slightly, but you didn't mention it. "What's wrong?" You murmured quietly, still half asleep.
- "Couldn't sleep." He replied. He wrapped his arms around you. It was soothing to be sure you were safe. You fell back to sleep soon after, and he followed suit.
- Waking up next to each other felt amazing. You just wished that it was under different circumstances, seeing as you awoke to the music signaling the next game would begin.
Dae-ho:
- You had been in the bathrooms when the brawl began. When you heard the commotion, you wanted to run out to the others. Safety in numbers, right?
- You got to the doorway of the bathroom exit, taking a few steps out before you were noticed by a player. An O. He seemed uninterested until his eyes flickered toward the red badge on your jacket.
- He grew a sick grin. "Looks like I'm gonna take out some trash." He said, brandishing the fork he had from dinner.
- He moved to stab toward your face, and you put your arms up to shield from the blow. You cried out as it embedded in your flesh. You kicked his kneecap, causing him to let go of the fork. He stumbled onto his knees. Without hesitation, you kicked him in the balls, making him scream out.
- You rushed into the other, luckily empty, bathroom. You locked yourself in one of the far stalls, sitting up on the tank of the toilet so your feet wouldn't be seen. You started unspooling toilet paper off the roll and packing it around the fork, which was still in your skin. You didn't think you would be able to take it out yourself without fainting.
- When Dae-ho heard a player run out from the hall yelling about an attack, he looked around and quickly realized that you weren't in the dorms. "Guys, Y/N is back there." He said frantically.
- He went to rush there, but he stopped when Young-il spoke. "I wouldn't go after them. Who knows what you'll be walking into?" He warned.
- Dae-ho glared over at him. "So I'll just leave them back there on their own? Fuck that." He shot back. He was happy to see Jung-bae stand up. "Marines have to have each other's backs, right? I'm with you." He said.
- The two rushed down the hall, dodging someone who was fleeing from the fight covered in someone's blood. When they got to the bathrooms, Dae-ho tried his best not to look in. He didn't want to be reminded of the past he tried to bury.
- Jung-bae scanned the room. "I don't think they're in there." He said. Dae-ho abandoned any care for societal norms and swung open the women's bathroom, since it seemed that only the men's bathroom broke out into a brawl.
- "Y/N?" He called out, starting to walk toward the stalls. The older man stayed by the door to keep it closed. The last thing they needed was those O bastards realizing 3 Xs cornered themselves in the bathroom.
- "Dae-ho?" You responded. You didn't move from your spot, scared it was some kind of trick. You hadn't been able to calm down since locking yourself in. You were terrified that man would come for revenge.
- He let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, it's me. Where are you?" He asked. You got off of your seat. Your uninjured arm trembled as you tried to unlock the door, eventually managing the feat.
- He rushed over after the door swung open. He tried not to look overly shocked by the sight he saw. Your wound didn't seem to be bleeding that badly, but it was enough blood to make him somewhat queasy. But there was also an anger boiling up inside of him.
- "I-I didn't know what to do. So I... I didn't t-touch it. I couldn't." You spoke frantically, stumbling over your words.
- His eyes softened upon seeing the state you were in. "Hey. It's gonna be fine. You're safe now. I'm gonna help you, okay?" He said, trying to console you.
- He started to get a wad of the paper and held in on the side of the fork. "This is probably going to hurt, but I need to do this." He warned. You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn't need to see it.
- He tried to remove it as gently as he could. You whimpered. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." He murmured. When it was out, he pressed the paper on the wound, holding it by wrapping his hand around your forearm.
- After keeping the pressure for a few moments, he looked you, using his free hand to wipe the tear from your face. "Sir, can you look to see if the brawl has ended?" He called out. You heard the door open, and it was significantly quieter out there. "I think the coast is clear." The older man called back.
- Dae-ho let out a relieved sigh. "Can you hold this?" He asked. You nodded slightly, replacing his hand with your own. You stood up shakily, still bit panicky as the adrenaline started to wear off. When you entered the hallway, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
- When you rejoined your group, most were relieved to see you, but Young-il had a look that you couldn't place. He was almost bitter that Dae-ho hadn't listened to him. Neither of you paid that much attention to it.
- You sat down with your back against the wall. He went to one of the empty beds and pulled the pillowcase off the pillow. He came back and sat down next to you. He managed to wrap the fabric around the wound. It was a bit awkward, but it worked to cover the wound and maintain some pressure.
- He grinned once he tucked the edge into itself and it stayed put. "Good as new." He said jokingly.
- You smiled and laughed, a sound that really put him at ease. "I wouldn't go that far." You said. You paused for a moment before looking up at him. "Thank you for coming back for me." You said sincerely.
- He looked jokingly offended. "As if I would just leave you back there, give me a little credit." He said, voice exuding his boyish charm.
- You decided to play into this. You gave an exaggerated sigh before saying, "My hero!" Like someone in distress would say to the knight who saved them. You leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He felt his face heat up, and you giggled before leaning your head on his shoulder.
- He couldn't get the stupid smile off his face. He was down bad. He made a silent vow to himself to make sure the two of you got out of here. He didn't care if the others would call him naive. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for you.
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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 months ago
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bodyguard! shoto, who decided to use his training and skills for a different career path, because fuck endeavour, and because he still wanted to serve people out of the good in his heart.
bodyguard! shoto, who is a 5’9, young, muscular man whose quiet stance speaks volumes. who despite his aloofness, remains a true gentlemen. who stands on the outside of the sidewalk when he’s with you, and who perceptively takes note of any men who seem to be eyeing you with anything more or less than adoration.
bodyguard! shoto, who works hard to keep his strength and health. who you can sometimes find doing pushups in his room during his free time, or taking out pent up rage on his punching bag. you’d think he’s putting up a show for you, grey tank-top hugging his muscles while sweat drips from his forehead.
bodyguard! shoto, who deals with most grievances calmly. he’ll step in front of you, hands in his pockets shielding you from whatever asshole decides to give you any issues. he’ll first, tell them to get lost, letting his eyes do talking. who isn’t afraid to get physical, despite his aloof nature. who will never cross that line unless he absolutely has to, and unless your safety is on the line. who would take a bullet for you, or shield you with his body. once he’s ensured you’re safe, he’ll disappear for some time and come back with bruised knuckles, much like his brother… 🤍
bodyguard! shoto, who, after a few drinks, will open up. he’ll tell you about his past, about his family, and about how he feels for you. he’s well aware that it’s unprofessional, and is more than willing to see whatever consequences you have for him now that his secret is out. who is both surprised and unsurprised when you tell him you want to stay, an undeniable warm feeling in his chest.
bodyguard! shoto, who makes everyone else disappear when you look at him. who is yours to keep and yours to lose. who isn’t a bad guy, but is more than capable of doing bad things to you, pressing himself against your back while you put lipgloss on in front of the mirror. who waits for you to say its okay before pressing a kiss to your neck. who gets you alone, and wears your feelings for him like a necklace.
bodyguard! shoto, who lets you hold his feelings hostage. who makes all your gray days clear, protecting you not only from others but from yourself. who reminds you not to overwork yourself, tugging you away from your desk and into his arms. who’s got your heart, skipping even when he isn’t around.
bodyguard! shoto, who makes falling for him inevitable. who walks you to your bedroom one day, only for you to tug him by his tie and press your lips to his. who suddenly doesn’t care about who’s keeping score. you did a number on him, but honestly, who’s counting?
✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚
f! reader, nsfw portion
bodyguard! shoto, who is a sweet, gentle lover. whose hot breath tickles your ear when he firmly orders you to lift your arms, pulling your shirt off so he can see more of you. who feels his pants getting tighter, cock straining against his pants when he massages your breasts, drawing out those shallow gasps of pleasure from your lips.
bodyguard! shoto, who makes sure the door is locked for everything he’s about to do to you. who his sweet and gentle, until he isn’t. who roughly tugs your bottoms off, leaving a trail of bites and hickeys on your inner thigh, leading up to where you need him most. and he’s mean, making sure you feel his breath graze your pussy, trailing his tongue on the innermost corners of your thighs before finally lowering his head to eat you out.
bodyguard! shoto, who’ll hook your legs over his shoulders, looking up at you while he works his magic, thinking he could do this for hours. who is well aware of the way your thighs tremble, the way you tug his hair begging him to make you cum. but he’ll give it to you, right after dragging out your pleasure for as long as he can.
bodyguard! shoto, who takes your thighs and folds you in half, pressing your knees to your ears. his cock slides right into you perfectly, groaning about how tight you are and how good he’s gonna fuck you. who watches you with hazy, duel-coloured eyes, waiting for you to adjust to his size before thrusting.
bodyguard! shoto, who makes you cum again, and again, and again, all while showing no signs of backing down. who tries a little harder every time he feels you flutter and clench around him, neither of you wanting to stop. who decides taking this job was the best thing he’s ever done.
bodyguard! shoto, who laughs to himself seeing the ship edits fans make of you and him, knowing they’ve got it right.
@crushmeeren i couldn’t resist! 😭🫧🫧
inspired by so it goes
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thesecondhandwoman · 21 days ago
Note
I have so many thoughts and your writing is amazing so I’ve got another one for ya. I bet you can tell I’m obsessed with this women. Ambessa x f or nb!reader where the reader is from Zaun and is good at fighting but Ambessa doesn’t know, so when their house is raided Ambessa is really worried but finds out the reader can take care of her/themself. remember to drink some water and take care of yourself. ps. If these get annoying or are to much feel free to ignore me
-🧚‍♂️
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HIDDEN STRENGTH
Ambessa x f!reader
Synopsis: You were Ambessa’s assistant, but also her secret lover beneath close quarters, and somehow, people who opposed Ambessa’s rule had found out, raiding the house when she was gone in hopes of using you for leverage.
Request: Anon 🤍
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The sprawling Noxian estate was unusually quiet that day. Ambessa Medarda had left for an important meeting with her daughter, Mel, and while the weight of Noxian politics consumed her mind, you remained behind in her shadowed domain—a secret presence in her life that no one could quite place. To most, you were merely her loyal assistant, managing her demanding schedule and household with an unmatched precision.
But the truth ran deeper than anyone suspected. You were her lover, her hidden solace amidst the chaos of her public life. A woman from Zaun, soft-spoken and kind, you seemed an unlikely match for the indomitable Ambessa Medarda. Yet, behind closed doors, your relationship blossomed, a secret love forged in stolen glances, whispered words, and the unyielding loyalty you showed her.
Ambessa never questioned your strength. She saw you as her balance, a calming presence to temper her relentless ambition. What she didn’t know, however, was that beneath your gentle demeanor lay a fierceness born of necessity. The streets of Zaun had molded you into someone who could survive, someone who could fight. You had simply chosen not to share that part of yourself with her.
Until now.
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It started with a knock.
The estate guards were usually diligent, but something about the sound sent a chill down your spine. You moved to investigate, leaving behind the stack of reports you’d been organizing for Ambessa. The second you opened the door, you knew something was wrong.
The man standing there didn’t belong. Dressed in rough, practical leather, his expression turned from false politeness to something much darker as he shoved his way inside. Behind him, more figures emerged—armed, purposeful, their gazes scanning the opulent interior with hungry intent.
Raiders.
Your heart sank as they advanced, slamming the door on the man’s face, locking it quickly while hearing their leader barking orders to seize the house and “find the assistant.” The plan was obvious: they intended to use you as leverage against Ambessa. But you had no intention of being anyone’s bargaining chip.
The dagger hidden beneath your blouse was in your hand before you even realized it. A relic of your past life in Zaun, it was something you’d carried with you out of habit, though it had gone unused for years. You took a steadying breath. The skills you’d buried deep were about to surface again, and you hoped they were just as good.
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The fight was chaos.
The first man lunged at you, and you sidestepped with practiced ease, driving the hilt of your dagger into his temple. He crumpled to the floor as another attacker rushed you, his sword gleaming in the dim light. You ducked beneath his swing, sliding behind him and delivering a swift kick to the back of his knee. He stumbled, and you followed up with a sharp jab to his throat, leaving him gasping for air.
Another raider fired a gun, a rare weapon to be used in Noxus, the deafening crack echoing through the hall. The bullet grazed your thigh, a hot, searing pain ripping through your leg. You hissed in pain but didn’t falter. The injury slowed you, but you pressed on, using the estate’s layout to your advantage, ducking behind furniture, using the shadows to stay one step ahead.
By the time the dust settled, the house was a wreck. Broken furniture littered the floor, and the walls bore the scars of the battle. The raiders lay unconscious or groaning in defeat, scattered around the grand hall. You stood in the center of it all, blood dripping from the cut on your thigh, your chest heaving with exertion.
You had won. But the cost was clear. Your dress was torn, revealing bruises and scrapes, and your hands trembled as adrenaline coursed through your veins. You barely noticed the pain; your only thought was ensuring the house was secure before Ambessa returned.
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When the news reached her, Ambessa was in the middle of discussing strategy with Mel. A guard interrupted, his expression grim, and Ambessa’s heart froze as he relayed the report: her estate had been raided. You had been there, alone.
Ambessa didn’t wait for details. She was on her feet in an instant, her expression darkening as she barked orders for her carriage to be readied. Mel, though concerned, didn’t press. She knew better than to interfere when her mother’s mind was set.
The ride back to the estate was a blur for Ambessa. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more dreadful than the last. Were you alive? Hurt? Taken? The thought of losing you, of never being able to hold you again, clawed at her heart.
By the time the carriage pulled up to the estate, she was already moving, her long strides carrying her through the broken doors and into the grand hall.
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Her breath caught at the sight of you.
You were still standing, albeit barely, your weight braced against the back of a chair. Blood stained the fabric of your dress where the cut on your thigh bled sluggishly, and bruises bloomed across your arms and face. But what struck Ambessa most was your expression, a mix of exhaustion and relief as your eyes met hers.
“Ambessa,” you rasped, your voice weak but steady.
She crossed the room in an instant, her hands reaching for you as though to confirm you were real. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice trembling. “Gods, look at you. I should have been here. I should have—”
“Ambessa,” you interrupted, your tone soft despite your exhaustion. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” she repeated, incredulous. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumb brushing against the bruise on your cheek. “You’re bleeding, little one. You’re not fine.”
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound barely audible. “It’s just a scratch.”
Ambessa’s gaze dropped to the wound on your thigh, her jaw tightening. “A scratch? That’s a deep cut, and it’s still bleeding.” She knelt in front of you, her hands surprisingly gentle as she inspected the injury. “Why didn’t you call for help?”
“There wasn’t time,” you admitted, wincing as her fingers brushed the edge of the wound. “They were after me, Ambessa. They wanted to use me to get to you.”
Her hands stilled, and when she looked up at you, her expression was a storm of emotions—anger, guilt, fear, and something softer. “You shouldn’t have had to fight them alone.”
“I’m not as helpless as I look,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Zaun taught me how to take care of myself.”
Ambessa exhaled sharply, her hands moving to cradle your face again. “I know you’re strong,” she murmured, her voice softening. “But seeing you like this, knowing what could have happened, I can’t bear it.”
You leaned into her touch, your own hands coming to rest on hers. “I’m okay,” you whispered. “I promise.”
Ambessa’s resolve cracked, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a reassurance, a promise that she would never let anything like this happen again. Her hands slid to your waist, holding you close as though afraid you might disappear if she let go.
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. “I’ll have the medic tend to your wounds,” she said softly, already signaling to her guards. “And then we’ll talk about why you never told me you could fight like that.”
You chuckled weakly. “Didn’t think it would ever come up.”
Ambessa shook her head, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips despite the situation. “You’re full of surprises.”
“And you love me for it,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.
Her smile softened. “I do. More than anything.”
Sighing, Ambessa rose to her feet, gently pulling you upright with her. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, supporting your weight as you winced at the sharp pain in your thigh. Her face was etched with worry, but she kept her touch tender, guiding you slowly toward one of the quieter, undisturbed rooms in the estate.
“We need to get you somewhere comfortable,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “The medic will be here soon. You’re not staying in this mess.”
You nodded weakly, leaning against her as she helped you walk. Despite the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by her presence. Ambessa, ever the warrior, was rarely so openly vulnerable, but here she was—her brows furrowed with worry, her lips pressed into a thin line as though she blamed herself for everything.
When you reached one of the guest rooms, she carefully lowered you onto the plush couch. The room smelled faintly of lavender, the heavy drapes muting the noise of the chaos outside. She knelt in front of you, her eyes scanning your body for any other injuries she might have missed.
“Are you comfortable?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
You offered a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m fine, Ambessa. Really.”
Her jaw tightened, and she reached for a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. Gently, she tucked it around you, her hands lingering on your shoulders as though afraid you might slip away. “You don’t have to act so strong all the time, little one,” she said, her voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “You’ve been through enough for one day.”
“Coming from you?” you teased lightly, though your voice wavered from exhaustion. “That’s rich.”
Ambessa let out a soft chuckle, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Fair enough,” she admitted, her hand brushing against your cheek. Her thumb traced the edge of the bruise there, her expression darkening again. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve protected you.”
“Ambessa,” you said gently, reaching for her hand. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. And besides,” You gestured vaguely to the wreckage you’d left behind. “I handled it.”
She exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around yours. “You shouldn’t have had to handle it. You shouldn’t have been put in that position.”
Before you could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. The medic entered the room, a wiry Noxian man with a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He froze briefly upon seeing Ambessa’s towering form but quickly regained his composure, bowing his head in respect.
“My lady,” he said. “I came as soon as I was informed.”
Ambessa stepped aside, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Take care of her,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anything seems worse than it looks, you’ll tell me immediately.”
The medic nodded, setting his bag down on the floor. He pulled out bandages, salves, and a small vial of antiseptic. “Let me take a look at that leg first,” he said to you, gesturing to the bloodied tear in your dress.
You hesitated, glancing at Ambessa. She gave you a reassuring nod, her hand resting on your shoulder. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Let him help.”
With her encouragement, you relaxed, allowing the medic to carefully examine the cut on your thigh. He worked quickly but thoroughly, cleaning the wound with antiseptic and applying a numbing salve before beginning to stitch it. You bit down on your lip to stifle a hiss of pain, your fingers gripping the edge of the couch.
Ambessa knelt beside you, her hand wrapping around yours. “Squeeze as hard as you need to,” she said softly, her thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. Her touch, firm and steady, grounded you as the medic worked.
When the stitching was done, the medic wrapped your thigh in clean bandages, then moved on to tend to the smaller scrapes and bruises on your arms and face. Ambessa remained by your side the entire time, her presence a constant comfort.
Finally, the medic packed up his supplies and stood. “The wound should heal well if it’s kept clean and undisturbed,” he said. “I’ll leave additional supplies in case any of the dressings need to be changed.”
“Thank you,” Ambessa said, her voice clipped but polite. She stood, towering over the medic, and gestured toward the door. “Leave us.”
The medic bowed again and exited the room, leaving you and Ambessa alone. She turned back to you, her eyes softening as she took in your tired form. Carefully, she sat on the couch beside you, her arm slipping around your shoulders.
“How do you feel?” she asked, her voice low and full of concern.
“Tired,” you admitted, leaning into her. The warmth of her body was a welcome relief after the ordeal. “But safe.”
Ambessa pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment. “You scared me,” she confessed quietly. “When they told me what happened, I thought,” Her voice trailed off, and she tightened her hold on you. “I can’t lose you, Y/N.”
“You won’t,” you said softly, turning to rest your forehead against her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Ambessa’s hand gently stroked your back, her touch steady and reassuring. The weight of the day began to fade, replaced by the quiet comfort of being in her arms.
“I’m going to double the security around the estate,” she said finally, her voice tinged with steel. “And I’ll make sure everyone in Noxus knows what happens when they threaten me and ones closest.”
You smiled faintly, your eyes growing heavy. “Ever the warrior.”
She tilted your chin up, her gaze locking with yours. “For you, always.”
Leaning down, she kissed you again, this time slower, softer, as though trying to pour every ounce of her love and relief into the gesture. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin.
“Rest now,” she murmured. “You need your rest after everything you’ve been through, little one.”
You nodded against her chest, letting out a soft sigh as you closed your eyes and softened into her touch. The last thing you heard before you were taken by a deep sleep was “I’ll be here when you wake.”
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A/N: I absolutely loved writing this (hope it’s not too repetitive), and hope you guys enjoy reading it.
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draconic-desire · 9 months ago
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💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥
Yandere Boothill x Reader
Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.
Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???
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You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.
“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.
Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.
That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.
He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.
You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.
Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.
“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.
Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.
You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.
It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.
That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.
After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.
He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.
His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”
You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.
Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.
You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.
His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”
Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.
“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”
“And if I refuse?”
That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.
Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.
It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.
“You just want to hear me curse because you can’t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.
He forgets you’re not the only one armed.
You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”
The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.
That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.
“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.
“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.
His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”
The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.
~*~
Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.
The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.
Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”
“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”
He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.
“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”
“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”
He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”
“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”
“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”
In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.
The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.
Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”
As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.
Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.
Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.
Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.
“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”
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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 month ago
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Trust In Battle Scars
Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> Even if you haven't always liked Joel, you've trusted him. And he's trusted you.
Disclaimer: Heavy smut, mentions of battle scars, blood, being buried alive, torture and murder (Joel hurts bad guys), swearing throughout. This is an 18+ so MDNI. Angst and fluff spread throughout. Joel takes care of Reader, maybe unlikely friends-to-lovers. Long fic. Not Proof Read.
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Joel kicked the door open once more with his foot as he helped you inside, Tommy already inside throwing things away from the sofa to let you sit down. 
“Joel, I’m fine. Honestly.”
“You’re hurt and bleeding. You’re fine, my ass.”
He helped you onto the sofa before he stood back, propped his gun up by the wall and started to take off his jacket. “Ellie, go and get the-”
She appeared by his side, the first aid kit already in hand. “Here.”
“Hot water from the kettle.”
“On it!”
You held onto your side, feeling the blood slowly soaked your clothes. “I’m fine. You don’t need to make a fuss. I’ve survived through worse.”
But Joel was already on his knees, rolling up his sleeves and opening up the kit beside him on the floor. 
“If I let you out of my sight, you’d just let this fester until you collapsed.”
You shook your head. “No I wouldn’t. I’d clean it myself.”
Through the front door, Tommy, Maria and a couple of others who had been there to see you get hurt came through the door just as Ellie came back inside with a large bowl of hot water before running upstairs to go and get fresh towels. 
Joel reached out for the hem of your top but you recoiled back. “No…I’m okay.”
Looking around, Maria was asking her husband a thousand questions and the others were staring at where the blood was soaking your shirt and hands. 
He looked between you and everyone else before yelling; “Everyone out!”
“Towels.” Ellie placed them by his side. 
“Ellie, get everyone out.”
She took what Joel asked seriously. Turning on her heel, she started ushering people outside. 
“Ellie?”
She looked back from the door. 
“Keep ‘em out.”
She gave Joel a mock salute before closing the front door behind her and Joel sat back on his heels, his hands on his hips. His voice sounded less hurried when he spoke again. 
“They’re gone. They can’t see from here.”
You were weary but slowly started to remove your jacket, Joel helping pull it from your arms before reaching for the hem of your top. 
“Think I’m gonna need your help.” Joel just nodded and helped you anyway. Lifting the t-shirt over your head, he took in your body. Under any other context the thoughts at the back of his head would be at the front. But he was too concerned with the hole in your abdomen to think about much else. 
Across your body there were different sized scars. A couple bullet wounds that had healed over the last couple of months, if not years. Gashes – some were deeper than others but they’d healed over. There were a couple of fresh grazes on your stomach from where you’d fallen afterwards, but they’d heal on their own. 
“This is gonna hurt.” He couldn’t lie to you. 
You nodded in understanding. “I know. But I trust you.”
But I trust you.
That was something you’d been telling him since you met him. Even if you hadn’t gotten along the best, you’d always trusted him. When you first got shot, you hadn’t told anyone. You’d kept it to yourself all day, but Joel had noticed you twitching and hissing each time you hiked your pack higher on your back. So, by the time night fell and the others said you’d gone to bed, he’d gone looking for you. 
He found you by the river bed, biting on your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pain. The bullet was still there. 
You’d flinched when you heard his boots on the rocks of the riverbank, but he held his hands up. “Relax, it’s just me.” 
He didn’t say anything else for a while, just walked closer to you before sitting on a rock beside you and holding up a light. 
“Hold this.” He told you before taking a look for himself. You and Joel, at that point, had probably shared two sentences at most since first meeting. 
“Yeah, it’s still there. You able to stay still?” 
You nodded nervously. 
Joel just nodded. “Okay. This is gonna hurt so…take a breath.”
You did so and the next two minutes were the most painful you’d ever experienced outside of being sung the Happy Birthday song. 
Joel pulled it out and pressed a bound cloth to your shoulder before reaching down into the small pack he’d brought with him. Holding up a small needle and thread, he went to stitch you up but then faltered. 
You just nodded. “I trust you.”
He took that as enough confirmation to continue. By the time he finished, he leaned forward and snapped away the rest of the thread with his teeth before washing the cloth in the river and cleaning away the blood from his hands and your shoulder. From there, he moved the strap of your top back up to help hold the gauze and tape in place. 
After that day, watching Joel walk back up the stones and towards the smaller camp, you and him talked a little more. Until eventually you became friends. And out of everyone, you trusted him the most. 
And you figured he felt the same about you considering you were the only one he’d let touch him after he got cut. He’d assured Tommy he was okay, he’d yelled at Tess telling her he was fine, and everyone else had been warned away with a look. 
But that didn’t work with you. He wished it did, but it didn’t. 
You’d opened his apartment door, finding Tess and Tommy stood outside. Tess was growing more and more annoyed and Tommy was looking like he’d been punched in the gut. 
You didn’t have to ask them what happened, you just walked inside and for as much as they wanted to follow you inside, they didn’t. The door closed behind you and you found Joel standing inside the bathroom in front of the mirror trying to clean up his wound. 
“What the hell happened?” 
Joel found you looking at him through the mirror. “Nothin’.”
“Sure as hell doesn’t look like nothin’.” You marched into the bathroom to get a better look as he tried to swat you away. “You need stitches.”
“I can do it myself.”
“Go and sit down. I’ll do ‘em.”
You watched as Joel went to open his mouth to say something, so you took the cloth out of his hands and stood back. “Joel Miller, so help me god, you go and sit your ass on that sofa before I kick you into next week.”
It took him a moment, but he sighed. Anyone else would have backed down when he maintained their eye contact, but not you. 
“You know, I’m meant to be the patient here. Aren’t nurses meant to have a nice bedside manner?” He asked you as he walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. 
You laughed as you ran the tap to clear the blood from the cloth before marching across the apartment and into the kitchen towards the kettle to boil some water. 
“Luckily for you, I’m not your nurse.”
You kept looking over your shoulder to Joel on the sofa who lay back and closed his eyes, trying his best to breath through the pain. Once the kettle finally finished, you poured the water into a bowl before carrying it over to the coffee table. 
“Lie down.”
Opening one of his eyes, Joel looked at you as you sat on the coffee table. You weren’t gonna budge. 
“Lie down,” you repeated. And with a heavy sigh, he did as he was told. 
From there, you lifted his top as far as you could get it before ringing out the cloth and shaking your hand to stop the burning. 
You hesitated. “This might hurt so…take a deep breath.”
He did so as you pressed the cloth to his wound. A deep grunt came from his chest as his hand shot out and gripped onto your wrist. “Take it easy.”
Looking from his face, to his wound, you gave a small smirk. “The man everyone fears in Boston and yet he can’t take a little hot water.”
“Are you always this heavy handed?” 
“You’re just sensitive to pain.”
“Why don’t we swap positions and see if it’s just me being sensitive to pain.” 
You chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll be lighter.”
You dabbed at his wound once more and he finally lay his head back and closed his eyes. “Happy?”
Joel just let out a noise from the back of his throat so you continued the way you were. “What the hell even happened?”
“Some bastard came out of nowhere and took a swing at Tess.” Joel grunted through his explanation as you continued to clean his wound before sterilising the needle. “I shot at him but he seemed to get there before me.”
“You’re gonna have to apologise to her, by the way. She’s probably still pacing outside that door.”
“I know,” Joel admitted. “I’ve heard her since she slammed the door.”
“She’s your girlfriend, Joel.” He looked at you. “Or whatever the hell you want to call it. Look, just apologise. She’ll forgive you.” Then you gave him a small smile. “You got stabbed for her. She can’t stay mad at you.”
Joel let out a small scoff in a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“I’d say look away, but you’re gonna feel this anyway. So, countdown from ten?”
Joel nearly shot up. “From ten?”
But then you stuck the needle into him and he grabbed your wrist again, throwing his head back. “What happened to ten?”
“Surprise, I guess.”
“Surprise, she says. As if she’s not sticking a fucking needle into my skin.”
You rolled your eyes. “Quit whining. I didn’t complain this much when you did it.”
Joel grunted again and squeezed your wrist. “Just…take it easy.”
You did so and eventually you finished, wrapping the thread around your finger and pulling until it snapped. You cleaned the wound once more before shocking him and pouring a little alcohol over the top. 
He shot up when you did that and found a smile on your face as you screwed the cap back onto the bottle. “Now apologise to Tess.”
You stood and made your way towards the door. 
“Y/n.”
You looked back before opening the door. “Thank you,”
You nodded with a small smile. “Anytime, Miller.”
Opening the door, you told Tess he’d live before heading back to work. 
There were more moments like that over the years, but the more scars you gathered, the more questions that would get asked by those closest to you. But out of everyone, you trusted Joel. He never asked questions. Frankly, he already knew the stories to each of your scars having been the one to patch them up in the first place. 
So when you said you trusted Joel, you meant it. 
Kneeling up, he warned you before he pressed the cloth to your side where you groaned and gripped onto his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut. 
“I know, I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I trust you.”
Joel just nodded and continued what he was doing. Every now and again he’d feel your nails dig into his shirt as he cleaned your wound before he had to stitch it up. 
“Just a little longer.” 
You forced a hum to let him know you heard him. 
“Wanna lie down?”
You shook your head. “No. I don’t wanna move.”
“Can you lean back for me?”
It took you a moment, but you nodded. 
“Okay.” Joel guided you back carefully, his eyes on you as yours remained shut tight. “Take it easy. That’s it. This is gonna hurt.”
You shook your head. “Just do it. I trust you.”
Joel nodded even though you couldn’t see him. So, guiding your hand back to his arm, he held it down firmly. “When it hurts, just squeeze.”
“Joel, it’s a needle. It’s gonna hurt.”
“You trust me?” You listened to his question before nodding. “Then just squeeze. This is a deep one. It’s gonna take me a while.”
“Okay.”
As Joel inserted the needle, your body reacted, pushing up and gripping onto his shoulder. You tried your best to take deep breaths, listening to Joel’s voice as he told you where he was at, how close he was to finishing. 
“Just one more, okay?”
“Okay.”
Leaning over, Joel cut the threat with this teeth once more before leaning back, keeping his eyes on you to make sure yours were still closed before he poured out a little alcohol onto a dry cloth. 
“Take a deep breath.”
“Why?”
Joel pressed it to your wound and you sat up, your eyes going wide before shutting. Leaning forward into him, your hand gripped his shoulder tightly. He was sure to have bruises on his arm later on but if it meant you got through your pain, he’d live with them happily. 
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Please tell me it’s done.”
Joel nodded. “All done. But you’re gonna need a shower. Think you’ve dragged half of the forest back with you.” There was a lightness in Joel's tone, you only wished you could feel it in yourself more. 
Standing up, Joel threw everything into a pile before holding his hands out. “Come on, let’s go.”
It took ten minutes but eventually Joel got you to the bathroom and started the shower for you. 
“Think you’ll be okay?”
You nodded. “Should be. Thank you.”
Joel made his way out of the door, leaving it open a crack. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me, so just…call out.”
You nodded, thanking him once more before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. You watched as the water went from clear to filled with old blood, new blood, mud, dirt, a few leaves from inside your hair and eventually back to clear after you got completely clean. 
Once you’d towel dried your hair, you wrapped another around your body, you stepped out of the bathroom after standing in the middle of it for a moment, so many thoughts running around your head, none of them were clear enough to remember. 
Then you found Joel. He’d been sitting on the top step outside the bathroom door. He stood quickly and took a breath. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. But when you took a step closer to him, you were mere seconds away from him stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms. 
A hand in your wet hair, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head whilst his other hand held you against his body. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I’ll always help you.”
After a moment, you stepped back and nodded, wiping your eyes before he could see. But he’d already caught them. Extending his hand out to you, he brushed his thumb under your eye. 
“Come on, I left you some clothes in the spare room.”
You followed Joel towards the spare bedroom where he left you to get dressed. And once you were, you walked downstairs where you found Joel heating up some soup in the kitchen. 
“Ellie’s gonna stay at Tommy’s tonight.” Joel told you. “And you’re gonna stay here.”
“There’s enough room for Ellie to be here, too, Joel.”
He nodded as he placed a bowl of soup in front of you. “I know. But she’s an eavesdropper and I want the truth. This way, it stays between me and you.”
You knew it was a shit lie when you told him as much when you’d all met back up at the bottom of the hill. If it had been just the others, you could have hidden it well enough so they wouldn’t have noticed. But not with Joel. 
He was right through you. And he saw right through the lie. 
“It’s nothing, Joel.”
“Bullshit.”
“Can we at least eat before you start the interrogation?”
Joel eventually agreed. And so you ate in silence. Until you couldn’t take it anymore and hoped to distract him for a while. So, you asked about Ellie. About her school and her homework. You asked about his jobs working down by the gardens digging up new space for some more allotments. 
Before you knew it, the sun had long been set and you and Joel were sitting on the sofa just talking. Until finally a silence settled over you both and Joel’s hand came to your leg. 
“You’re gonna have to tell me sooner or later. Unless you really want to know how loud Ellie snores?”
“I really do.”
“Y/n.”
You took in a breath and sighed before sitting up straight. “Okay. But, you have to make a deal with me.”
Joel smiled a little. “I have to make a deal with you?”
You were being serious. “Yes. You can’t fly off the handle and it can’t leave this room between me and you. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
Joel got worried and then silent. 
“Promise me,” you pressed. 
“I promise.”
With a sigh, you started to explain. “It’s stupid really. It was before I met you and the others. I was travelling with this group towards Cincinnati. I’d met one of the guys one night and we…got close.”
“Got close?”
You rolled your eyes. “We were fucking, Joel. It wasn’t anything serious. Just a way to let off some steam. In fact it had been his idea to keep things casual. Anyway, one night a few of his friends wanted to raid this place. I had a bad feeling about it but…I went anyway. Turns out the place was FEDRA owned. So, I told them what I thought and walked away. I didn’t want to be another casualty for them. Pretty sure the only reason I’d lived so long is because I was someone’s girl.”
“What was his name? The guy you were…”
“Fucking?” 
Joel nodded his head. “Trevor, or Travis. Something like that. We didn’t exactly do much talking and this was over ten years ago. Anyway, that night I walked. Packed up what I had to my name, and left. A couple months later, I found an old farmhouse. It was in the middle of nowhere. No infected. For a while, I thought I’d been followed but when no windows busted in the middle of the night, I finally relaxed.”
 “Except, when I woke up in the morning, I heard footsteps. I had been followed, just not by infected. His friends, they’d spotted me by pure fucking chance outside another town and followed me. Guess it got too dark to continue following so they pitched out in the woods for the night.”
Joel sat up. “What did they want?”
“Apparently after I left them, Trevor, or Travis – he’d followed after me. Said he’d make me see sense. Only, he got chased by an infected somewhere outside the city. They blamed me for his death. Wanted revenge.”
“Did they…”
You shook your head but stood up and lifted the hem of your t-shirt which just so happened to Joel’s, before pushing down the band of your shorts. Carefully, Joel reached out and kept your shorts out of the way so you didn’t hurt yourself any more than you already had. 
His fingers were warm against your skin. 
“No, but they did get two slugs into me before I sent them limping away with their own bullets in their legs.”
Joel looked up at you before he dropped his hand, and you sat back down. 
“What does this have to do with today?”
“Remember your promise to me?”
Joel nodded. 
“Two of his friends are here in town.”
Joel went to stand but you kept your hand on his arm. “Joel. Don’t. It wasn’t them. They’ve got nothing to do with this. At least, nothing I can prove, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed-”
“Someone’s set up trip wires around my grid. I usually go further than we’re meant to on patrol. No-one else covers my grid, so someone has been watching me. At the very least, they’ve been asking questions. Must have tripped a wire and it threw out a knife.”
Joel took a breath. “Does anyone else know? About before Boston?”
You shook your head. “It was a long time ago. And to be honest, when I saw them, they didn’t seem to recognise me.”
“You can’t just go off that.”
“I know, but I have to take my chances.”
“What if they-”
You shook your head. “They won’t. I made sure of that. Once I hit the ground, I found all of their wires. Easier to see, I guess when you’re laid faced to the ground.”
You chuckled a little at that, remembering army crawling through the forest to pull all the wires and watching the blades fall flat to the floor. But that was a bad idea. 
“Take it easy. You probably need new bandages.”
Joel stood and walked towards the desk drawer before pulling out some fresh ones. 
“I’ll stand.”
Joel sat down on the sofa as you stood between his legs, lifting your t-shirt so he could unravel the old one. 
You hissed and he apologised. He was meticulous in unwrapping your bandages, being careful to not aggravate your wounds anymore than they already had been. And for a moment, his hand ghosted over your belly, his thumb tracing back and forth before he gripped onto your hip securely. 
“Joel…”
Looking up at you, Joel watched as you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. He continued watching you as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your stomach, before pressing a few more to each wound, graze and finally the healing one on your side. 
You let out a shaking breath, your hand coming to the nape of his neck, your fingers running through the strands of his hair. 
Leaning back, his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip where he could feel the goosebumps popping up across your skin. 
Leaning down, leaving his hand on the back of your thigh to hold you still, he reached for the fresh bandage. 
“Lift your top.”
You did as he instructed and felt his fingers dance across your skin as he slowly wrapped the new bandage around your middle, being sure to keep it crossed over each other until finally he tucked it securely into place. 
His fingers wrapping around your hands, he let you lower your top as he stood, his body mere inches from you. You could see his chest getting tighter as he tried to control his breathing. Then you felt one of his hands trail up your body, your arm and finally settle at your neck, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck, whilst his other hand pulled you closer by your waist. 
Any control you had over your breathing was long gone out of the window. 
“We shouldn’t do this.”
Your voice felt too loud for how close you both stood, even if it did come out as a whisper. But you could still feel Joel’s hands fixed on your body, his palms moulding to each of your curves. 
“No, we shouldn’t.”
You could feel your breathing getting heavier. You forced yourself to catch it before you swallowed, starting to lean up on your toes as you held onto Joel for dear life. 
“One of us needs to walk away.” Joel told you. But you shook your head. 
“Don’t walk away. Don’t walk away.” Then you kissed him. 
Pulling him down, you landed back on your feet, Joel’s mouth hot on yours. Then his palms were under your ass, lifting you before your legs wrapped around his hips. With one hand firm under your ass, his other pushed your hair back from your face before he walked across to the cabinet behind you before he sat you down on it and had both of his hands in your hair, both of you becoming deaf to the back of the dresser that hit the wall.
Once again, Joel’s hands were on your hips pulling you closer until your legs wrapped around him once more. Then his mouth moved. It moved from your own, across your jaw and down your neck. Leaning away, your breathing became ragged as he found your pulse under his tongue. You were pretty sure by morning you’d have a large hickey as a blaring reminder of what pleasure Joel could just give with his mouth on your neck. 
Once Joel seemed satisfied with his work along your neck and jaw, he returned his mouth to yours where he only got a taste for more of you. From there, his hands ran through your hair until they finally got to the end of your shirt. Pulling it from under your ass, he pushed his hands underneath and carefully lifted it up your body before he broke the kiss and moved back to help you take it off. 
His mouth was back on yours in a second and the t-shirt you’d been wearing was thrown somewhere else in the room before you started tearing at the buttons on his shirt. Taking a little too long, Joel moved back and started undoing the bottom ones himself as you worked on the top ones. 
Once they were undone, he pulled the shirt off with your help before joining the t-shirt. His hand was back in your hair, pulling your mouth back to his. Nipping, licking and kissing your skin, he trailed his mouth back down your neck and across your collarbone whilst his hands unhooked your bra from the back. 
“So fucking beautiful,” his deep voice groaned before he pressed a kiss to the bow of your breast and lifted you from the dresser and carried you back to the sofa. 
Joel was careful when he lay you down on the sofa before he climbed above you, his knee slipping in between your legs. With one of your boobs in his palm, his fingers lightly pinched at your nipple as he kissed the corner of your mouth. A gasp left you and Joel smirked before watching you as he lowered himself down your body and wrapped his mouth around it, licking and sucking gently, hearing small moans escape your mouth. 
At the curve of your breast, he nipped at the skin a little before dampening the sting with his tongue and sucking just like he did at your neck. 
“Joel,” you moaned. 
Looking up at you from the bow of your breast, he pressed feather-like kisses. “Like that, baby?”
You swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling his tongue slip over your other nipple whilst his other hand travelled down the length of your body before hiking your thigh up so your leg wrapped around him. 
“Y-yes.”
You moaned again when you felt the hardness of him on your thigh. 
With his tongue trailing back up your chest before his hand cupped your cheek, finally allowing you to kiss him again, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth, tasting everything he could, his knee shifted. 
So grinding down, you took what you could. You could feel Joel smirk against your mouth. That fucker. 
“You want me already, Darlin’?”
Your breath became heavy in your chest and for a moment, Joel took in the sight of you. Plump lips from his kiss, growing hickies along your neck…
“You better plan on fucking me, Miller.”
Joel chuckled. “I plan on more than that, Darlin’.”
The way he looked at you in that moment, his eyes trailing your body, he looked like a man starved. And someone had finally put a meal in front of him. 
Slowly moving down your body, Joel’s hands eventually found your shorts and unfastened them before pulling them down your legs as you lifted your ass. 
Then he sat back, his hands stroking your thighs. “Fuck, baby.”
“Joel, please.”
Even just the thought of what he was about to do was turning you on. If he planned on doing anything like what he already had been doing with his tongue…
You moaned. 
Joel chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely.”
You let out a small squeal as he pulled you a little further down the sofa and pushed your thighs a little wider and further up. Then he took his time. His mouth kissing the inside of your thigh, taking extra time for the gash that rounded your thigh. 
Usually, anyone else who had gotten this far with you took one look at the scar and..stopped. 
But not Joel. 
“Fucking beautiful.”
Then he looked at you and for a moment his eyes softened before he pressed a softer kiss to the scar. It was only for a moment, but for you it felt like the whole world, because after that, he only continued. 
Kissing, sucking, licking, worshipping, loving your body in a way no other man had ever done. The scars didn’t turn him off or make him stop. The grazes didn’t make him falter in his want for you. In fact, he only added to them. But they were a lot more pleasurable to gain than your others. 
Finally, his thumb dipped under your panties, stroking through your slickness. “Fuck, your wet.”
Rushing back towards you, Joel’s mouth was on yours as his thumb parted the lips of your pussy before began circling your clit with a light pressure. 
Your moan was swallowed by his kiss. 
As you began to grind against his hand, Joel chased his own pleasure, too. 
“Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned into your ear. 
“Fuck, Joel.” You chased the feeling of his fingers, your body flexing under his. “Fuck.” You gasped, your hand gripping onto his bicep. 
“You’re so wet.”
Looking down from your shoulder, Joel removed his hand for a moment hearing you whimper but his own joined yours as he buried his face into your hair after seeing your wetness coat his fingers. 
Again, he was moving down your body, slowly pulling each side of your panties down your hips, his tongue tracing where they were. 
“Is this okay?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Then he tasted you. 
The moan he gave as he did so had you chasing the vibrations of his voice. You needed more of him. Bucking your hips, Joel’s tongue traced around your clit. 
“Open wider for me, baby.”
With his help, you opened your thighs wider for him before he sucked at your clit. With a gasp of pleasure, you sat up and your hand fisted at the back of Joel’s hair. His hands were rough under your ass, pulling you closer to him. 
Then his tongue entered you. His nose rubbing against your clit, Joel got a taste for all of you and if he wasn’t hooked before, he was now. 
You moaned his name over and over as you chased the pressure of him against your clit. “Joel. Joel, please. Ah, fuck. Joel. I’m gonna- Joel!”
Feeling the sensation take over your body, Joel drank up every last bit of you. When he finally came back up for air, he licked the last of you from his fingers before he kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue. 
“Hope you’re not tired, Darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”
Pulling him closer to you, you kissed him again before you let him guide you into his lap. With your hands memorising every curve and muscle of him, your fingers started to undo his belt buckle before you finally got his jeans down his legs, as well as his underwear leaving him fully exposed to you. 
Joel just admired you as you straddled his lap once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as you rocked forward against him. 
With one hand already dancing across your skin, his other made its way back down to your core. Your arms over his shoulders, holding onto the back of the sofa, you leaned forward. 
“How many do you want, baby?”
Joel already entered one and you gasped before sighing, rocking against him as his digit curled inside of you. 
“One?”
He added another. “Or two?”
“Two.” A moan escaped you as he slowly pumped them inside of you and curled up. “Def…definitely two.”
As you rode Joel’s fingers, you could feel his cock in the side of your thigh, trying to leave it’s own bruise. 
“Fuck, baby.” 
Leaning down, you whispered into his ear. “Joel, I need more of you. I need you.”
There wasn’t much left for Joel to do other than guide himself into your entrance, his hands resting on your hips as he led you down the length of him inch by inch. 
Joel pushed the hair from your face. “Slow and steady, baby. Otherwise we’re gonna have finished before we’ve started.”
You laughed a little, and so did Joel. “Don’t you mean ‘you’?”
“As far as I’m aware, I’m the only one with self control here, Darlin’.”
You cocked a brow. “Oh really?”
Joel nodded and hummed. So, taking his face in your hand you leaned closer to his lips. 
“Maybe we’ve gotta do something about that.”
Taking a breath as you kissed him, Joel’s arms that had been resting on the back of the sofa started to tangle with your hair before moving to stimulate you in other places. 
“Hold on to the back of the sofa.” Joel told you before one hand slipped between you both and started rounding your clit and the other held the side of your neck before fisting the bottom of your hair. 
Then his mouth was everywhere. Licking, nipping, sucking – all whilst you rode his cock. 
“Shit, you feel so good.” Joel told you as he started to push up and into you more, the sounds of sex filling the room. 
Joel could feel you taking him in, your walls pulling him up as your slickness surrounded you both. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore. “Joel. I’m gonna come. Ahh, baby. Please. Fuck.”
Between his cock, his fingers and his mouth, you felt your orgasm building before your walls finally clenched around Joel as he let out his own orgasmic moan. Both of your movements became sloppy as the wave of your orgasm hit and you emptied around Joel as he emptied himself into you. 
You and Joel tried your best to catch your breath as you both remained still, his hand leaving your clit to hold you on him, at your hip. 
“Fuck.”
Leaning down you kissed him once more as his hands snaked around you, holding you against him. You felt his hand travel up your back before rounded down and flicking across your nipples once more. 
Finally he slowed and rested his head against your chest. And you both remained like that for a while until the feeling finally returned back into your legs, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. 
After cleaning up downstairs, Joel met you in the shower where his hands tangled between the wet strands of your hair and your back took on temporary imprints of the shower tile. And by the time you both woke up in the morning, your legs were still tangled with Joel’s from when you’d climbed back into bed after peeing. 
Once Joel finally woke up, you both lay in silence for a while, your nails trailing up and down his chest as his own fingers did the same on your arm. 
“How’s your side?” 
“I think the aching in my legs is distracting me.”
Joel smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “Good.”
You kissed him back. “But I think my bandage needs changing.”
Joel nodded. “Grab a shower and I’ll go and grab you some fresh ones. The ones from last night should be dry by now.”
“Okay.” You kissed him. “But feel free to join me.”
Joel smiled and kissed your lips twice. “I plan on it.”
So, after an extra long shower, the feeling of Joel’s cock entering you from behind as he kept your hands pinned against the tile still fresh inside of you, Joel changed your bandage and you both finally got dressed. 
By the time Ellie and Maria came knocking on the back door and entering the kitchen, it was like nothing had changed. Ellie might not have noticed it, but Maria certainly did. 
“I brought you some antiseptic cream. Should help with the healing.”
“Thanks.”
Joel looked towards Ellie. “You had breakfast?”
Maria shook her head. “Tried to, but she wanted to see you as soon as she could.”
Joel nodded before sucking the bacon grease off his thumb. “Grab a plate. Maria, you staying?”
“No, best not. I’ve got a council meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Coffee to go?” You offered. 
Maria nodded, a little confused as she watched the picture play out in front of her. “Uh, yeah. That’d be lovely. Thanks.”
In front of her she saw Joel…happy. His eyes practically followed every movement you made before the eggs spat in the pan and he turned his attention back to his cooking. His hand at your hip as he rounded you to get into another drawer, your hand on his back as you passed him to grab a to-go lid from under the sink. 
The way you both looked at each other…it was the same as before but just…more. 
“Here you go.”
Maria smiled for a few reasons other than the coffee you handed her. “Thanks. See you guys later?”
You and Joel looked at each other, a little confused. “For what?”
Maria’s brows furrowed. Had you literally fucked the brains out of each other?
“It’s movie night.” Ellie told everyone. Joel looked at his daughter, his brain finally kicking into gear. 
“Right. Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there.”
Maria smiled. “Great. Well, I better run. Enjoy breakfast.”
Leaving, you turned back to Joel. “I completely forgot.”
“Same here.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel before transferring breakfast across to three plates. 
The rest of the day ran smoothly. Maria made sure to keep you and Joel at a distance from each other when helping set up. If the morning was anything to go by, both of your functioning brains disappeared when you were together. 
But she didn’t miss the constant eye-fucking across the room you gave to each other. Especially when the other wasn’t looking. 
And it was only when you and Joel passed each other in the supply closet you got a few moments together which each time got interrupted by someone calling for either one of you or someone making their way down the empty hallway towards the supply closet. 
That would be when you and Joel would jump apart and put an entire row of shelved between you both, you making small conversation as Joel turned his back, straightened out his mustache, grabbed the box he’d gone in for, slip past you, his hand patting or pinching your ass despite his eyes being fixed on the floor before he got an easy escape in order to cool down. 
And once you’d gotten back home, he did everything he’d wanted to do to you in the supply closet, at home. At least until Ellie walked through the front door, calling out for him telling him she was home. 
The routine you and Joel had set that night continued for almost a month. In between then, Ellie had worked out something had finally happened between you and Joel, as had Maria and Tommy. 
A few others around town had worked it out, too, though they never had full confirmation. 
Until the day came where you went missing. 
You had meant to pass by the school and walk home with Ellie since it was Joel’s turn to cook dinner. Only, when Ellie walked inside half an hour late and without you, Joel grew a little concerned as well as a little annoyed. 
You were never one to bail a plan, or even be late. So why weren’t you with Ellie?
“She didn’t show.”
“What do you mean she didn’t show?”
Ellie shrugged and dropped her bag by the door. “She didn’t show.”
Joel still fixed you a plate anyway. Maybe your work had run over. Only, the worry in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow more when he saw his brother. 
“Tommy, have you seen Y/n?”
Tommy nodded his head as he wiped down the bar. “Yeah, earlier. She covered Charlotte’s shift on patrol during dinner time.”
Even with taking the extra shift, you still would have finished in time to walk with Ellie. 
“Have you seen her since?”
Tommy shook his head but then called out for someone. A guy dressed in a dark coat walked over. “What can I do for you, Tommy boy?”
“You seen Y/n?”
The guy looked from Tommy, to Joel and Ellie. “Not since the start of patrol. But she should be back by now.”
“Why? What happened?”
The guy shrugged. “One of the fellas said she’d headed back early for something. She wouldn’t say what. They’d finished most of their grid so he finished up on his own and met us back at the bottom of the hill.”
“And you haven’t seen her since?”
The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, Joel. I haven’t.”
“Thanks anyway.”
He nodded. “If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”
“Thanks, Bryan.”
Tipping his hat, he walked away and back to his table. Then Joel grabbed his jacket. “Ellie, stay with Tommy.”
“Where are you going?”
“Check her house. Stay with Tommy,” Joel repeated as he saw Ellie go to stand. She reluctantly sat back down. 
He was outside your home in fifteen minutes. He called out your name but no reply came. Finding the spare key, he let himself in before looking around the place. Nobody. Then he checked his own home. Then the gardens, school, movie theatre and finally the bar again. 
“Find her?”
Joel shook his head. “No.”
But then he heard a laugh, and something dropped in his stomach. Turning around, his eyes made contact with another pair. 
You’d pointed out to Joel the men who you knew from before Boston. And there they sat, with a satisfied look in their eyes. 
“You looking for your woman, Miller? Or is she just fucking you like she fucked Travis?”
Joel was across the floor in five seconds flat, his hands at the collar of one of them. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
But he just laughed. Joel looked back at Tommy who just nodded to a side door. Everyone in the bar had gone silent, but he wasn’t worried about them. Ellie didn’t need to see what he was about to do. 
So dragging the guy with him, he pulled him through the swinging door, meanwhile Tommy and a few others surrounded the other friend before he could make a move to attack Joel. 
“The bitch should still be alive if you can find her in time.”
Mostly the guy just laughed in Joel’s face until Joel had him slumped on the floor and had him screaming with a knife in his knee. 
“You psycho fucker!”
Joel remained calm. “Where is she?”
“Like I’d tell you,” Joel stabbed him once more. “I’m gonna ask you one more time and if you don’t tell me, I’ll pop your fucking knee cap off.”
“Fuck you.”
Joel twisted the knife. “Okay, okay! She’s in the upper grid! She’s in the upper grid!”
Joel searched his eyes, turning the guy’s head from side to side. “If you’re lying-”
“I’m not!” He cried. “I’m not. I swear.”
“Okay.”
The guy calmed down a little. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So you’ll let me-” He screamed in pain as Joel shattered his knee. “Ah! Fucker! You promised.”
“I didn’t promise you a fucking thing.”
Joel stood and wiped the knife clean. “You and your friend better be gone before I get back.”
“How?! You’ve just broke my fucking leg!”
“Then crawl. Whilst you can still do that.”
The guy cried in pain. “You crazy fucker! You’ll pay for this! I swear, you’ll pay for this!”
Joel didn’t look back as he walked back through the door. “Call a fucking lawyer.”
The guy's screams of pain died away with the swinging of the door and by the look on the other guy’s face, he was shitting himself. 
Joel grabbed him by the collar. “You know where she is?”
He nodded. “Take me.”
“But-”
Joel shot him in the leg. 
“Alright! Alright!” 
Dragging him by the collar, Joel carried him outside and through the town. Meanwhile, Ellie sat and watched from the cover of the bar before turning to Tommy who came to her side. 
“He’ll find her.”
Tommy nodded. “Hopefully.”
But Ellie was adamant. “He found me. He’ll find her.”
Tommy didn’t know the full story about what happened after his brother and Ellie left Jackson the first time, but going off how he’d reacted to finding you gone and in danger and how he’d been on Outbreak Day with Sarah…Tommy had a feeling someone wasn’t coming back. 
After forty minutes, the guy lifted his hand, “She’s in there.”
The only thing there was a mound of dirt. The guy was already crying. 
“We buried her. She should still be alive-” He didn’t finish his sentence because the blow of the bullet at the base of his skull shut him up. 
And Joel got to work, shovelling piles of dirt as quickly as he could. 
“Joel!”
From the hill, a few others appeared with guns. “We heard a shot-” Then they realised. 
“Grab a shovel! Help me!”
And they did. 
Eventually, they hit a wooden box. 
“Joel, she’s here.” Bryan told him before wiping the thin layer of dirt from the edges where both himself and Joel stabbed at the edges with their shovels, using them as a crowbar until finally the top popped off. 
Seeing more light than before, your lungs seemed to rush with air quicker than you could breathe it in. Sitting up quickly, you felt a pair of hands on you. 
“Get off me! Get off me!”
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s me. Y/n, it’s me. Hey, hey, look at me.”
Holding your face in his hands, your vision cleared to find Joel standing in front of you. “J-Joel?”
“Hey.”
Joel helped you up quickly, pulling you into his arms as his back rested against the side of the grave, your sobs falling against his chest. 
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Bryan laid a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take her home. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Joel nodded, his hand at the back of your head. “Come on. I’ll help you out.”
And he did. You were still shaking like a leaf. 
With his jacket over your shoulders, Joel held you into his side as you both walked back to town and towards home. 
“I’m so sorry, Joel.” 
Those were the first words you’d spoken to him since the morning when you’d kissed him goodbye. 
Joel shook his head as he was crouched in front of you, washing your face for you. Despite the shower, there still seemed to be dirt in your eyes. 
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
You nodded but he still had to tell you the same a day later when you woke up in his bed for the second time since he’d woken you up to tell you he’d be back in one hour. When you finally did pull yourself out of bed, you opened up the bedroom door to find Ellie standing to attention. 
Neither of you said anything but in a few moments, she ran towards you and hugged you. It wasn’t long before you both sunk to the floor. 
“I’m so sorry I was late.”
Ellie shook her head. “Are you going to be okay?”
You nodded. “Thanks to Joel.” You tried your best to dry your tears. “Where is he?”
“Still with Tommy. They’re still dealing with the guys that…” Ellie skipped over that part. “Everyone is on your side, and Joel’s side, too.”
You just nodded again. “Good.”
Then Ellie leaned forward and hugged you again before you both heard a familiar pair of boots walk up the stairs. “You’re awake.”
“I think so, at least.”
“I’ve got breakfast.”
The morning was mostly spent in silence until Ellie fell asleep tucked into your side of the sofa. Joel went to pick her up to carry her to bed but you stopped him. “Leave her.”
He did so and sat on your otherside, his arm resting around your shoulders whilst his hand brushed the back of Ellie’s sleeping head. 
“I’m so sorry, Joel.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. None of it.”
You shook your head. “No matter where I go, I seem to collect scars. And they never let me go.”
Joel pressed a kiss to your head before gently placing his other hand on your thigh. “You should be proud of them. They’re a sign you survived. They’re a sign you’re still alive and here. With us.”
Looking at Joel, all you saw on his face was sincerity. He truly meant it, and truly believed it, too. Leaning up, you let him kiss you gently before you settled your head against his chest. 
Maybe he was right. You knew he was right. You trusted he was right.
Especially when you’d come to learn of all the ways Joel could appreciate your survival, proving to you how you could appreciate it, too. 
672 notes · View notes
limethefirst · 30 days ago
Note
UGH MY HEART— I READ THE FANFIC YOU WROTE WHERE THE READER REMINDED SHADOW OF MARIA AND IT WAS SO CUTTEE!! Can I request another one with the same concept? Maybe one where the reader gets hurt in some way connected to the movie’s story line, and Shadow’s scares of losing them? Like how he lost Maria!
Not again
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader [platonic]
warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of injury, G.U.N shoots a (implied) minor…when don’t they
summary: While trying to infiltrate the G.U.N headquarters, you get caught and are fortunately saved by Shadow after a rough encounter
a/n: this request was challenging for me to think on because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the reader getting hurt in the story since I didn’t know any moments that made sense but here you go! I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I hope you enjoyed and tysm for supporting my stories!!!
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The plan was simple, Robotnik and Gerald would get in and out, while you would infiltrate the GUN base. Unfortunately life had a way of throwing curve balls at you. As you hid behind a wall, opening your computer to try and deactivate some security protocols a stray guard managed to stumble upon you.
“Hey, you,” the guard somewhat yelled, making you quickly snap your head up from your small laptop. You definitely did not look like you belonged here, you were too young compared to most of the other people here who were in their mid 30s to late 40s, “Let me see your badge,”
Oh no, this was something you didn’t prepare for, you didn’t have a badge, you were stuck here. Quickly thinking you set a small distress signal to Stone from the small laptop still held in your grasp, letting him know of your situation.
Nervously you responded to the guard, “Uh I- uhm forgot my ID back home,” you patted yourself down, pretending to look for an ID that you obviously didn’t have. As you did you slowly put the laptop on the floor.
The guard, clearly not believing you, turned on his radio calling for backup. Your mind was racing, you knew getting caught was not an option so the only thing you could do at this point was run.
“You get back here!” You made a quick glance back, seeing as two other men, with actual guns started to chase after you, their weapons raised to you.
There was no way they’d actually shoot at someone, especially someone actively way younger than them.
Suddenly your arm stung, red began to seep through your fake uniform, oh god they were really shooting at you.
You quickly turned the corner running behind a wall, trying to get away. A small lab was close by, maybe you could hide in there and hope they would pass you by.
The door was open by some miracle; quickly slipping into the dark and empty room you made your way to the desk off by the far right and sat down there, covering your mouth holding back the scream you wanted to let out from the burning bullet wound on your arm. It wasn’t a massive wound, not by any means, it was a graze but it was still a gun shot and it hurt like hell. Tears were threatening to spill from your glossy eyes but the fear of making noise kept them at bay.
You heard the door creak open, light footsteps echoing in the room. They were nearing and you had nowhere to run, surely they wouldn’t kill you, that wasn’t morally right but they shot at you, well you were trespassing on government property so you weren’t sure what they’d do.
You heard a creak to your left; they’d found you. You saw the man reach for the electrical handcuffs but before he had the chance to grab them a sudden flash of red caught you by surprise.
Shadow had found you as well, you watched him take down the three men. He teleported throughout the room, confusing the men. He began to teleport between the men, going from one to the next, landing a hit on each before he did it again.
You sat there, your back against the wall, your breathing was heavy, your eyes wide, fear lacing your every feature.
Once Shadow had finally finished he turned back to you, his stoic and angry gaze quickly falling, his eyes widened as he quickly made his way over to you. He gently but urgently grabbed your bloody arm, his face a mix of anger and fear.
He was normally very neutral, the only thing on his mind revenge, but currently all he sensed was fear. This scene was all too familiar to him, it reminded him of those terrifying moments he had so many years ago.
As Shadow held a tight grip on your arm, the tears that were brimming your eyes had finally fell, you tried to choke the sobs but all the adrenaline had finally wore off. Shadow looked around the room, finding some gauze that he then used to wrap around the wound.
Once he had stopped you could no longer hold yourself back, you quickly grabbed onto Shadows torso as you sat on the cold dirty floor, your face red with tears and snot. Shadow stood still, he was enraged, long ago GUN had taken something he cared about, and once again they tried to take something else.
He slowly let his arms wrap around your shaking figure, he knew how to comfort people, he’d done it with Maria before, but it had been so long.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Shadow quietly comforted, his words didn’t do much but you knew you could trust them. So you just sat there, as Shadow waited, remembering what it was like to care and comfort someone.
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just-an-anon-reader · 2 months ago
Text
The Forgotten Sister
Pairing: Ekko x Fem!Reader
Tags: Minimal use of Y/N, no specific description of the reader, friends to lovers, CW blood, CW injury, CW, violence, CW guns, TW death.
A/N: Soo I just couldn't wait! My brain was goin into hypersimp
Prologue — Chapter II
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Chapter 1
It's been seven years since then. You've grown and changed. Granted, your leg remained weak, leaving you limping, but the rest grew strong. Responsibility tends to have that effect on the people who bear it. Almost immediately after Ekko founded the Firelights, group consensus made you the resident saw-bones.
How? You hadn't the slightest idea. You did, however, have a lingering suspicion that Ekko had a hand in it. Especially with his vastly exaggerated recounting of the time you popped back Vi's dislocated wrist after she thought it would look cool to punch a concrete wall with her bare knuckles. Although you initially accepted the role reluctantly, you performed it in great stride. Applying everything you knew from your own experience as a sickly child while learning the rest from tomes Ekko would you bring every now and then from their scavenges. You grew to become a pretty skilled makeshift doctor. From common colds to bullet wounds, everyone entrusted their lives to you. Ekko, most of all. 
And today was supposed to be just another day as a makeshift doctor. 
Just beneath a set of branches on the firelight tree stood your infirmary. Big enough only to house ten patients at a time, it was considered one of the largest areas in the hideout. It might not have been the prettiest, made up of strewn-together sheets of steel and wood bolted at the seams, but it did just fine. Inside, standing in front of a row of cabinets, assumingly counting the stock of medical supplies, was you. Your lab coat swayed with the gentle breeze that drafted in from the open doorway. The wooden floorboards slightly squeaking as you leaned against your cane. Mind adrift to the events from earlier that morning. 
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"You be careful out there, Ekko. Salve and bandages can only do so much," you say, stuffing his right jacket pocket with supplies.  Bandages, salves, ties for bleeding, pain meds... were you missing something?
"You make it sound like you haven't saved lives with those," he chuckles.  
Noticing the subtle trembling of your hand, Ekko reaches for it. Pausing your mission to stuff his pocket with the whole infirmary and instead giving it a gentle squeeze in the hopes of comforting you. It always worried you every time they went out on missions. They never ended cleanly. Some would never come back. While others would end up rushed into a cot in the infirmary. Their blood soaking the floor, staining it red. It was never a pretty sight. 
"Salve won't magically close bullet wounds or weld back hacked-off arms," you bite back, returning his comfort with your own. 
"Just... come back home. In one piece, preferably," you say, looking up at him. 
"We will, Firelight," he replies, gently bumping his forehead against yours. Closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of you. Antiseptic and lavender. Weird, but uniquely you. 
You did the same. Basking in his warmth, in the feel of him. Letting the butterflies flutter in your gut as you felt the tips of your ears flush. After a moment, you step away from each other. Confident and resolute. Ekko gave you a firm nod before walking away... 
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"-C! DOC!" A voice boomed, snapping you out of your reverie with a squeak of surprise. 
A man stood beside you. He had large wing-like ears and a cut pink button nose that looked out of place on his gruff face. Scar. 
"Geez! You scared me! And when did you get here?" you say. 
"I've been calling for you since I got in here. Get your head back on your shoulders. You got a few to patch up. Nothing serious this time, " he said as three boys from the group started filling the space. 
You saw to them, one by one. A couple of bruises, some cuts, a nick or two from a grazed bullet that'd need a few stitches. But nothing too serious. Good.
"What happened out there?" you asked, cleaning away the filth and gunk that stuck to the dried blood on one of the boy's shoulders.
A hush fell over the conversation. Confused at the sudden silence, you turn your attention to the chimeran. Scar had that look. The one you've gotten used to since the situation with Silco started to escalate. Started to turn more... violent. When it began to become... personal.
Jinx...
"I see, and Ekko?" you ask as you grab a pack from the cabinet. 
"'Course you'd ask about him." Scar teased. Earning a glare from you. "He's fine. Just finishing up. I'm sure he'll come over soon." He says, walking away, his tone not any less teasing. 
You could only scoff at his antics. For such a rough and gruff person, his penchant for teasing certainly takes some getting used to. Focusing on the task, you tenderly clean the area around the wounds. Expertly stitching and bandaging with a quick and skilled hand. Before long, all three boys lay fast asleep on their cots. Ice towels on their bruises and bandaged arms or legs angled away to keep them from snagging. Satisfied with your work, you started cleaning up. Throwing away bloodied gauze and used needles while saving the rest for future use. After all, supplies down here in the under city don’t come cheap. Just as you were about to put away the last pack, Ekko's voice called to you from the entrance of the infirmary. 
"Firelight! Get over here. There's something you need to see," he said, tone urgent. Almost... somber. 
Worriedly, you hobbled to him as fast as you could, a difficult task when you're also trying not to trip over your cane. 
"Hey! What's wrong? You hurt?" you ask, hand on his shoulder, nudging him left and right as you inspect him for any wounds he may or may not be hiding from you. 
"I'm fine, I'm fine... but there's someone else you should see," he said, placing a hand on yours on his shoulder. His eyes shifted to something to his right, then back. Pointing. 
"Who-"
You felt your breath catch and the wobble in your knees. There stood a young woman. With wild pink hair that glowed where the sun would hit it. And blue eyes that sparkled as they looked at you. She looked tired and haggard. Like she hadn't had enough sunlight in years. But that face... you knew that face. It may have aged over the years, but it was still... hers. 
"Vi?"
"Hey there, shortstack. But I see you aren't so short any more. And, I guess it's Doc around here, huh?"
With a stumble, you shuffle towards her. The thunk of your cane against the hardwood floor being the only sound between you two. You stop in front of her at arm's length. Slowly, nervously, you reach out to her, hand trembling as you carefully cup her cheek. It was warm, it was soft, it was... real.
"You're... real?" you whispered.
"I sure am," Vi whispered back. Her own hand reached out to cup yours. Thumb gently rubbing circles on the peak of your cheek.
"You're not a nightmare? Or some ghost here to haunt me 'cause you're still bitter about that time I popped your wrist back wrong?" you said, wet hiccups mixing with blobs of tears gushing out of your eyes. Sniffling as you felt snot beginning to drip from your nose. You always were a messy crier. Pulling you in, Vi embraces you tightly, letting you sob against her shoulder. Drenching the fabric of her jacket with tears and snot.
"I missed you, baby sis. So, so much. I'm so sorry I left you alone. It'll never happen again. Ever." Vi says, holding you tighter. Feeling her own tears beginning to fall, staining your white lab coat gray.
"I missed you too..."
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reiding-writing · 3 days ago
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hi. I have been reading all your criminal minds stuff and I just LOVE IT!!! Anyway, my request is a cold!reader x Spencer, were reader gets hurt pretty badly (like veeeery badly) and he saves her. Keep writing, you got talent there!
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CRACKED ICE — SPENCER REID!
a foot chase goes awry when a shot takes you down. spencer makes sure you’re alive enough to make it to the hospital.
spencer x cold reader | 2.4k | angst | cold!reader masterlist.
main masterlist.
WARNINGS | reader gets critically shot, unsub also gets shot but not badly, lots of blood mentions
a/n — thank you <333 i need to write more angst for this series i think
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The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and rainwater, the streets slick with puddles reflecting the dim streetlights. Sirens wailed in the distance as your boots slapped against the wet pavement.
You were closing in on the unsub now, your breath ragged but controlled, each step pushing you further into the chaos that had erupted only moments ago. The rest of the team was scattered behind you, covering different angles, but you were in the lead.
“Team, status!” you barked into your comm as you rounded a corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of your target.
“No visual,” came JJ’s voice, breathless but steady. “He’s fast—too fast. We need to get him before he gets out.”
You glanced ahead. So many side streets, perfect for a man who knew the area. But you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time.
“Keep looking,” you ordered, even as you sprinted forward, the adrenaline pumping faster than your legs could keep up with.
Without waiting for confirmation, you veered left, cutting through a narrow alley that wound its way between two old brick buildings. The sky overhead was clouded with the weight of an impending storm, and it was only a matter of time before the rain began to fall again.
Your fingers brushed the side of your gun, just a touch, ensuring it was secured in its holster. You couldn’t afford to hesitate.
The alley narrowed as you sprinted deeper, the sound of footsteps behind you fading as you focused on the task at hand. And then, just ahead, you spotted him.
The unsub.
A tall, lanky figure darted from one shadow to the next, the barrel of a gun glinting briefly as he moved. You had to act fast. You skidded to a stop, pressing your back against the wall of the building to the right, silent and still. You could hear his labored breathing now, closer than ever.
“FBI! Drop your weapon!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the silence.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the rain. Then, a flicker of movement.
The unsub was turning, eyes wide with panic. You knew he had a gun, but you didn’t hesitate. You raised your own weapon, fingers tight on the trigger. He was cornered now. There was no escape.
But then, in a desperate last-ditch effort, he spun, his gun coming up in a smooth motion—too fast, too practiced.
The first shot rang out, and you barely had time to register the impact before the world seemed to slow. Pain. White-hot, jagged pain shot up your leg, and for a brief moment, all you could do was stare at the blood blooming through your pants.
You hit the ground hard, knees slamming into the asphalt, but your finger squeezed the trigger reflexively, sending a burst of fire at the unsub. The recoil was a blur, but you saw the man stumble, his shoulder jerking as the bullet grazed him. He stumbled back against the wall, clutching at his arm with a howl of pain.
Your breath was ragged now, your focus on him, not the searing pain in your leg. You pushed yourself to your feet, gritting your teeth as you made the effort to stagger toward him. The alley was spinning slightly, the walls closing in around you as dizziness swept over you. But you weren’t done yet. You had a job to do.
“Hands in the air!” you shouted, even though the words came out slurred. You were close now, so close. The unsub was on his knees, clutching his arm, but his gun was still gripped tightly in his other hand.
“Don’t make me shoot you again.” you warned, your voice growing hoarse as you approached. Your fingers were trembling now, the pain too much to ignore, but you had to finish this. Had to cuff him.
You took another step forward, but that’s when your leg finally gave out. A sharp cry tore from your throat as your knees buckled beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground in a heap, the world spinning faster now.
The unsub—he was moving again, but you were too weak to stop him. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but it was no use. Blood was pooling beneath you now, the sharp taste of metal in the air as your vision blurred at the edges.
The sound of pounding feet grew louder, and then familiar voices cut through the haze.
“Shots fired! There’s an Agent down!” Morgan’s voice was sharp with urgency. “Over here!”
You blinked up at the blurry shapes of your teammates rushing into the alley. Morgan went straight for the unsub, forcing him onto his stomach to secure the cuffs. But Spencer ignored the scene entirely, his focus laser-sharp as he dropped to his knees beside you.
“Hey,” he said, his voice tight. His hands hovered uncertainly for a moment before he pressed them against your thigh, trying to stem the bleeding. “Stay with me, okay?”
“Reid,” you muttered, your voice strained but laced with sarcasm. “You’re ignoring your arrest quota.”
He didn’t rise to the bait. His jaw was clenched, his normally steady hands trembling slightly as he worked. "You’re losing too much blood," he said, more to himself than to you. “I need to—hold on—“
He pulled off his jacket, looping it tightly around your thigh just above the wound. The pressure made you hiss in pain, but he didn’t falter. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, twisting the fabric to form a makeshift tourniquet.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you bit out, your tone dry despite the agony.
“Keep talking,” he said, glancing up at you briefly. “Sarcasm’s good. Means you’re still with me,”
“Spencer Reid,” you said, pausing to suck in a shallow breath. “Master of the obvious and amateur tourniquet maker. Truly a man of many talents.”
His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. “You’re going to be fine,” he said, more firmly this time. “The ambulance is on its way,”
“Just let me bleed out,” you muttered, blinking rapidly to stave off the encroaching darkness. “Better that that another stupid hospital.”
Spencer’s expression tightened. “Stop that. You need to stay awake.”
“Your concern is cute, but there are more important things at hand here,” you murmured.
“Not right now,” he snapped, though his voice cracked slightly on the words. His hands pressed harder against your leg, trying to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to make it. Do you hear me?”
You swallowed hard, the fight to stay conscious growing harder with every passing second. “Fuck—“ You take as deep of a breath as you can manage. “Go, fucking cuff the guy already, dig your finger into his bullet hole if that makes you feel better.”
“I’m staying here,” Spencer stutters out a breath of his own, hands still applying pressure against your leg, fingers saturated red.
You snorted, despite the pain, trying to focus on something—anything other than the pounding in your leg. “I didn’t just get shot for you to not arrest this guy, Reid.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I’m not letting you bleed out on me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with concern.
His fingers were trembling slightly, but he kept his focus, muttering to himself about the importance of stopping the blood flow, keeping you conscious, keeping you alive.
“You can’t just… you can’t just ignore the guy,” you protested, even as your head swam and your vision darkened. “He’s still there…”
“Morgan’s handling it,” Spencer interrupted, his voice firm now. “And you’re not going anywhere until I make sure you’re stable. Do you hear me?”
You tried to nod, but it came out more like a half-hearted shake of your head. The world around you was spinning, the sounds of the city fading into the background.
You heard Morgan’s voice in the distance, barking orders as he secured the unsub. JJ was likely talking to the EMTs, telling them to hurry.
And all you could do was lay there, helpless, staring up at Spencer’s face. His wide, concerned eyes locked on yours as he hovered over you, applying pressure to your wound with shaky hands.
“I’m not dying, Spence,” you muttered, your voice thick with exhaustion. “I just… need a second. Just… a second.”
“Don’t close your eyes.”
But you do, and then you don’t have the energy to open them again.
The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the lingering smell of coffee from the cup sitting untouched on the small tray table by your bed.
When you stirred, the first thing you noticed was the heavy ache in your leg, a deep, throbbing pain that felt like it had settled in your bones. The second was the weight on your hand—warm, steady, and grounding. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the pale morning light filtering through the partially drawn curtains.
Spencer was slouched in a chair beside your bed, his lanky frame folded awkwardly into the too-small seat.
His head was tilted forward, soft brown curls falling over his forehead, and his hand rested lightly over yours. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair, his tie loosened, and the faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw. He looked exhausted, but even in sleep, his grip on your hand didn’t falter.
You shifted slightly, wincing at the sharp pang in your leg. The movement must have been enough to wake him because his eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused for a moment before they locked onto yours. Relief flooded his face in an instant.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—concern, maybe, or perhaps guilt.
“Unfortunately,” you croaked, your throat dry. You glanced at the IV drip hooked to your arm and the bandages wrapped tightly around your thigh. “Looks like I survived.”
Spencer leaned forward, his hand tightening around yours. “Barely. You lost a lot of blood. If we’d been a few minutes slower—”
“But you weren’t,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the lingering haze of fatigue. “You got me here. That’s what matters.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowing. “You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly. “When you passed out, I thought—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the memory. “I thought we were going to lose you,”
You offered him a faint smirk, trying to inject some levity into the moment. “It takes more than a bullet to get rid of me, Reid. You should know that by now.”
His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile breaking through his serious expression. “I do. But still…” He glanced down at your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “You need to stop putting yourself in these situations,”
“Occupational hazard,” you replied, shrugging as best as you could while lying flat on your back. “Comes with the badge.”
Spencer didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning your face as if to reassure himself that you were really okay. “The unsub’s in custody,” he said after a moment. “Morgan and Rossi handled it. He’s not going anywhere,”
“Good,” you said, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “At least it wasn’t for nothing.”
“It wasn’t,” Spencer agreed. His voice softened, and he added, almost to himself, “But you scared me. I don’t want to go through that again.”
You met his gaze, the raw emotion in his eyes catching you off guard. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quieter now.
“I know,” he interrupted gently. “And I know you’ll probably do it again if it means saving someone else. But just—be careful, okay? Please?”
The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Instead, you gave his hand a light squeeze, letting the silence speak for you.
After a moment, Spencer cleared his throat, his usual awkwardness returning as he shifted in his chair. “I brought you some books,” he said, gesturing to a small stack on the table beside your bed. “Thought you might want something to do while you recover.”
You glanced at the titles—an eclectic mix of crime novels, classic literature, and even a few puzzle books. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
He shrugged, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “I just wanted to make sure you had what you needed.”
You smiled, genuinely this time, and for the first time since waking up, the weight of the past day felt just a little lighter. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he replied, his voice soft but steady.
The two of you sat in companionable silence after that, the chaos of the previous night a distant memory as the morning light spilled into the room. For now, you were safe. And that was enough.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 10 months ago
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment
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Chapter 28: How in the-
The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…
Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.
You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.
The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.
Today was a first. In a lot of ways.
The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.
You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.
Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.
Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.
John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.
And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.
“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.
“Have you been checked?”
“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.
“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.
“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.
“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.
“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.
They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.
So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.
“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.
Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.
“Fine, sweetheart.”
“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.
He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”
“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.
“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”
“And a bath?” You added.
“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.
After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.
Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…
Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”
“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.
“Stay. Please.” He requested.
“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.
“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.
“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.
You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.
Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.
“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.
Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 
The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 
Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.
The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.
“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.
“For bathing you?”
“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.
“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.
“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.
“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”
“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”
“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.
“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.
“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”
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lipglossanon · 9 months ago
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Shimmer
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Leon S. Kennedy x Fox Fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, very little world building, smut a plenty 😆, Leon POV, hybrid reader, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex, creampies
not proofread ✌️ just a smutty hybrid au
title from Shimmer by Fuel
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Leon couldn’t believe his eyes. You wind around the trunk of a tree, bright eyes locked on him as a little smile hovers on your lips like a secret. He swallows, tracking your movement, tenebrous colored tail flickering in and out of the tree line. He didn’t know he’d see a pretty little fox this far out. 
Leon planned for his four day weekend to be a relaxing hike in the local mountains, camping for a night (maybe two), and then heading back home to veg out in front of the tv before the next work week starts. He’s been out here in the forest for a few hours now and finally found a place to bed down for the night when you appear. A gray fox isn’t as common as the red, but he’s heard people in town talk about the few that have been spotted out here in Arklay. 
Leon doesn’t consider himself a hardcore outdoorsman, but he at least knows enough about the local wildlife. The closer you get to his little campsite the more enraptured he becomes; you’re absolutely captivating. His fire crackles and keeps him warm despite the chill permeating the night air; he’s afraid to move once you take a graceful seat on the opposite side of his fire pit, flames highlighting the hollows of your face. 
“Hi,” you smile, sharp little fangs glinting at him. 
“H-hi,” he croaks, throat dry so he tries to clear it.
“Camping, hmm?” Your gaze lazily drifts to his tent and satchel before landing back on him. 
“Yeah, needed a break,” he shrugs, hands clasping together to give them something to do, “you live near here?”
“Now why would I tell a stranger where I live?” You laugh, a throaty sound that makes Leon’s blood run hot. 
A flush overtakes his cheeks, “Sorry, I-I’m just making small talk.”
You laugh again, tail shifting to drape across your lap, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”
“Leon. What’s yours?”
He listens as you answer but his eyes can’t stop darting between your perked ears and soft tail. 
“Do you want to pet me?” You grin, tail swishing back to your side. 
“What—no, I mean, maybe,” Leon’s sweating bullets, mesmerized by you but also terrified you might rip his throat out with your sharp little teeth.
Smiling even broader, you stand up and make your way to him, folding down into a crouch in front of him. This close up, Leon quickly takes in your facial features before noticing the small black collar wrapped around your neck; his eyes trace down the modest sundress to your bare legs and feet. 
“Aren’t you cold?” He murmurs, blue eyes roving back up to your curious gaze. 
“No,” you smile, “but I’ll be sure to let you know if I am.”
Leon blushes and you look delighted, kneeling closer to peer up at him. 
“You’re pretty far out for camping, little Leon,” you fingers graze over his jeans, sharp nails making his pulse race, “aren’t you scared you’ll run into some big scary animal?”
Swallowing, he shakes his head no, “I-I brought bear mace and I’m sticking to the game warden trails.”
He watches your head tilt as one of your ears flick back, listening to the dark forest behind you. 
“Hmmm, you should be safe enough then,” your smile returns and Leon feels your tail brush across his arm, “want to see how soft it is?”
With hands steadier than his heart, Leon carefully strokes over the soft fur. It’s more silver than grey with a streak of black that ends at tip of your tail. Some white highlights catch his eye as his hand softly glides down the length. 
“It’s lovely,” he murmurs, dazed eyes coming back up to lock on your bright ones. 
“Thank you, Leon,” you purr, flicking your tail away behind you, ears perking forward, “you’re no slouch yourself.”
You let your nails brush across his sandy blonde fringe before pulling away. Leon doesn’t know what it is but he’s so drawn to you that his defenses are completely down. So he makes no move to stop you when you drag those sharp claw tips across his scalp and down his neck. 
A low groan slips from his mouth and he jerks away, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. You laugh and inch closer, hands moving down to skate up his jean clad thighs before resting on his chest.  
“Little Leon,” you coo, “are you feeling flushed? You look red.”
“I’m,” he coughs, trying to cover up his nerves, “maybe I’m just too close to the fire.”
“Do you need help to your tent?” You hold his gaze, your little grin showing off an incisor, “don’t want you to pass out.”
Your fingers drum across his pecs and he has the intrusive thought of you ripping into his shirt to tease his nipples. Biting back another groan, he nods jerkily. 
“I should probably lay down,” he clumsily stands, watching as you easily stand next to him, hands hovering over his shoulders. 
“I’ll help,” you take his arm and guide him the few feet away over to his accommodations for the night.
Pulling back the flap, you help Leon ease down onto his knees so he can kick off his boots before placing them inside next to the opening. Before he can thank you, you crawl in next to him, tail brushing across him as you splay out on his sleeping bag. 
“Comfy,” you pat the space next to you, “come lay down, Leon.”
His cock twitches in interest and he quickly zips the tent closed; the light glow of the fire can still be seen through the mesh. Moving over to you, he copies you, lying on his side with his head propped against his arm.
“Figured you might like some company tonight,” your eyes drop down to his mouth, “don’t want you to feel scared.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulse thundering in his neck as you shift closer, legs tangling with his. 
“Maybe,” you murmur, lips ghosting across his, “you should get comfortable for bed.”
Without any other prompting, he quickly shucks off his jeans and socks before taking his shirt off just leaving him in his briefs. His cock sits half hard against his thigh and he watches as your greedy eyes take him all in.
“Mmm, not bad,” you grin at him, tail waving back and forth behind you. 
He settles back where he was and you move into his space, lips kissing across his jaw before pressing softly against his own mouth. With a groan, Leon lets your hot tongue lick into his mouth, hips rolling forward until you finally push him on his back and lay atop him. You break the kiss once to stare down in his face while you rock your wet little cunt against his bulge before lapping at his parted lips. 
Kissing you messily, Leon can’t stop from moaning and groping your ass through your sundress. The hard press of your nipples against his chest makes him grind against the apex of your thighs even rougher. Pulling away, you raise up into a sitting position over his lap. Your sharp nails tease across his pink nipples and his whole body jolts like he got an electric shock. 
“Oh, Leon,” you grin. 
He feels powerless while your fingers pinch and tug his stiff buds until he’s mewling and rocking up into your ass. Hands grabbing onto your thighs, he presses your dress up until he can see your bare cunt coated in clear slick that makes his mouth water. 
“Sit on my face,” he pants, “fuck, sit that fucking chubby pussy on my face, please.”
“What a dirty boy,” you lean forward and bite his nipple. 
Leon keens in his throat, a sharp high noise he’s never made in his life. Fuck, he thinks he might cum from just you abusing his nipples. His eyes flutter as your wet little mouth decides to suckle and tease his swollen buds; your sharp teeth scraping across them has his cock weeping precum, staining his briefs. 
“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep that up,” he finally gets out, hands tangling in his own hair, “fuck, please baby, sit on my face.”
“I guess since you’re being so good,” you sigh, sitting up to pull your dress up and off, nude body coming into view for the first time. 
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, eyes sweeping down your body. 
Your ears twitch and you smile, “You’re so sweet, Leon. Now sit back so I can ride your face.”
“Please,” he whines, helping you crawl up his body.
As you move, Leon shimmies his briefs down and off his legs. Your knees then rest on either side of his head and you gently sit your fat dripping cunt down onto his face. With a moan, Leon’s lapping and sucking up all of the slick coating your pussy lips, tongue running up and down your slit. Settling more of your weight down, you relax against him and he humps the air, cock drooling everywhere as he licks your pussy. 
“So good, Leon,” grinding your cunt down on his mouth, he flattens his tongue letting you rut against the slick muscle. 
He moans, hands cupping your ass to keep you from moving off of his face. Even if he suffocated, Leon would die a happy man. Chillbumps race down his body when your tail brushes over his chest and stomach. The soft fur of your tail eventually drapes itself over his stiff and leaking cock making him lap eagerly into your cunt, tongue fluttering against your pussy walls. 
“Right there,” you purr, nails carding through his hair and scratching at his scalp, “suck on my clit and I’ll cum all over your pretty mouth, Leon.”
More precum leaks from his slit, cock so swollen it aches. His eyes shut in an effort to control himself, control his thoughts before he cums all over himself like some virgin. You rock and grind down on his tongue, low moans filling the tent as he laps along your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Keening, you press your bodyweight down, making sure he stays suckling your swollen bud until your orgasm finally overtakes you. 
Leon moans just as loudly as you do, drinking up your slick like he’s a man dying of thirst. You undulate in place until the overwhelming feeling of his mouth has you shifting back down into his lap with a pleased little hum. 
“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps, eyes blown out as he takes in your relaxed posture.
“Glad to know,” you tease, running your hands down his pecs and across his puffy nipples. 
He lets out a low hiss but doesn’t stop your touches. Your soft hands drift down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock before sweeping down his thighs. 
“Finally,” you sigh, one hand slowly stroking his dick while the other cups his balls, “a nice fat cock.”
Said cock jerks and leaks even more into your palm, balls throbbing as Leon watches you play with his dick. 
“Fuck,” he whimpers, slowly rocking his hips up, “you like it?”
“Mm hmm,” you purr, “I’ve had lots of men over the years, but you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”
A spark of jealousy lights in his chest but it’s washed away by the twist of your wrist around his tip making him lose all train of thought. 
“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” you whisper, eyes flashing, like it’s a secret— Leon supposes it might honestly be, “someone to mate.”
His cock kicks, a glob of precum dripping over your fingers where they’re wrapped around his length. You use the sticky wetness to glide your hand more easily up and down his dick, slowly jacking him off. He groans, hips pumping but you only loosen your grip with a sly little grin. 
“Please,” he murmurs, “it hurts.”
“Does it?” You pout, hand softly massaging his sac before tracing the seam down to his taint, “poor little Leon wants to cum?”
“Uh huh,” he drops his head back with a broken moan, “please, w’nna cum for you.”
“Oh?” 
The way your voice piques with interest has his gaze lasered back in on your face. Your attention is focused on his cock but he sees the want sitting as heavily on you as he feels.
“Since you’re being so sweet,” your eyes flick to his and you hold the connection as you rub his cock over your slippery clit, mouth dropping open to pant. 
“God, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands grabbing your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones, “please, please.”
You press his cock against his stomach and glide your soaked cunt up and down—the world's most torturous pussy job he thinks dazedly. His tip leaks so much there’s a small sticky puddle of precum forming on his stomach as your slick coated pussy lips part around his cock, hole dripping and rubbing against him. 
“You’re going to stretch me open so much,” you coo sweetly, tail swishing excitedly behind you, “hope you don’t cum too soon.”
Before Leon can even argue, you tilt his cock up and sink your pussy down on him; he knows he’s gripping you too hard, but he can’t let go when your hot little cunt’s sucking him in so agonizingly slow. 
He’s babbling too, but fuck if he knows what he’s saying; whatever it is, you don’t mind since you’re giving him that same throaty laugh from earlier that makes him wanna spill deep in your greedy hole.
It feels like a lifetime before you start to bounce on his lap, pussy squelching deliciously, making his mouth flood with saliva knowing what you taste like. The pace picks up and before he can blink, you’re riding him rough and fast, pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice. 
“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, hands going to your hips ready to pull you up and off so he can spill all over your pussy.
He feels like a fucking teenager, not able to hold back on cumming inside your pussy like he’s never fucked a woman before. Hybrid pussy must be something else, he thinks dizzily, cock throbbing as your slippery walls pulse and throb around his thick length. 
“Cum inside,” you moan, nails digging into his forearms so harshly blood runs down his arms. 
The pinprick of pain makes him buck up harder into your spasming hole. His brain fizzes in arousal, dick buried balls deep in your soaked cunt. 
“Can’t,” he gasps, “fuck, what if you get pregnant?”
His cock thickens at the thought, balls tight against his body, at the hint of knocking you up. You laugh, that throaty sound that makes Leon throb, and you grind harder down on his lap. 
“Then mate me, little Leon, spill your seed deep inside and give me kits,” your lips spread in a smile so wide your fangs show, “breed my pussy like your cock’s begging you to.”
“Oh god,” he whines, “I-I can’t,” but he doesn’t stop himself from fucking into your pussy harder and deeper, balls aching to shoot his load.  
“Aww you can’t?” You mock, guiding his hands up to grab your breasts, “can’t fill my cunt with your thick cum? Can’t breed a wet pussy that wants it so bad?”
He’s losing the battle. It just feels too good inside your fluttering walls while he rabbits his hips against yours, cock stuffing you on every thrust. He squeezes his hands until your tits spill over his fingers, nipples hard against his palms. 
“Make me a mommy, Leon,” you croon, voice saccharine sweet in his ears and he nods before even realizing what you’ve said. 
“M-mommy?” He slurs out, body flushed and overheated as he fucks up into your cunt. 
You giggle and lean forward, “Mm hmm, you like mommies, Leon?”
He gasps, eyes rolling back as he leaks heavily inside your hole, “Ye-yes. Love mommies.”
“Good boy,” you murmur, dropping a dizzying kiss to his lips and he chases your mouth with a moan. 
“Mommy, want you to be a mommy,” he babbles out, brain complete mush now from the arousal, “want you to be my mommy.”
“Ohh?” You sigh gustily and lean forward more, pressing your breasts into Leon’s face. 
Taking the hint, Leon’s hand shift down to your ass so he can mouth and suck at your tits, licking and suckling your nipples as he thrusts sloppily. 
“Mommy,” he murmurs, tongue lapping at the soft skin of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. 
Whining, his eyes flutter shut. If he breeds your cunt, you’ll leak milk from these gorgeous tits. He moans loudly, the thought turning him on so much he can’t stop sucking your nipples. He pumps his hips up into your soaked cunt, feeling you drip slick down his cock to drip off his balls. 
“So hard, Leon,” he distantly hears your voice, “being such a good boy for me, fucking your mommy so good.”
Mewling against your breasts, he bites the puffy bud in his mouth, tongue lashing against it until you’re squeezing and rocking down on his dick. He could fill you to the brim, bust his load deep in your pussy and keep you on his cock til it takes. Eyes rolling in pleasure, he swaps to your other breast, mouth greedily suckling the hard nipple into his mouth. 
He pulls away, mouth brushing across the stiff peak as he looks up at you, “Mommy, gonna cum for you, gonna cum so hard in your pussy.”
“Good boy,” you smooth back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “if you fill me up you can keep me, a mommy all to yourself.”
His eyes drop to your collar and you grind down hard on his cock making him moan. 
“This is to keep people from getting any ideas,” you smooth your hands down his chest, nails scratching at his abs and making them tense, “you can put your own collar here if you want.”
Leon closes his eyes, trying his best to behave. Having you in a collar he picked out? Coming home to you waiting for him, maybe even splayed out in his bed, wet and wanting his cock. Shuddering, he blindly mouths at your chest nuzzling until he finds your nipple to pull into his mouth with a rough suck. 
“Mommy, ‘m so close,” he groans, “wanna keep you on my cock forever.”
You pull yourself from his lap with a loud wet suctioning noise that makes his balls draw up tight. The words to keep you sitting on his cock die in his mouth as you kneel down at his feet with your back facing him. You dip at the waist to press your chest into the sleeping bag as you arch your ass into the air. Your tail mesmerizes him for a minute before he scrambles up onto his knees behind you. 
“So pretty,” he slowly strokes his hand down your tail and you moan longingly, spreading your knees to present your wet little cunt to him. 
“Breed me, Leon,” you look back at him, ears twitching and teeth biting your bottom lip, “want you to fill me up.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, notching the head of his cock at your opening before slowly sinking inside. 
His hands grip the fat of your ass, eyes unable to pull away as he watches your pussy eagerly suck his cock back into your slick soft heat. The first few thrusts are slow and deep, letting him luxuriate in the feeling of burying his cock in your hot little pussy. 
“Harder,” you whine, hips pushing back, “give it to me, Leon.”
He lets out a pained grunt as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole. Leaning forward, he braces one hand on your shoulder to pin you down as his other grips your hip. The new angle lets him piston his dick deep and hard into your slick greedy hole. Moaning, Leon rabbits his hips faster and faster, balls smacking your clit on every thrust and making you squeeze his dick. 
Moving the hand from your hip, his fingers seek out your slippery swollen clit and rub soft circles across the pudgy bud. 
“So good, such a good boy,” you pant, nails clawing his sleeping bag to shreds, “god, you’re gonna make me squirt.”
The words turn Leon on so much he nearly blacks out. Chills race down his back and he teases your clit from side to side, dipping down to wet his fingers from the slick leaking from your stuffed cunt before pinching your bundle of nerves.
“Your pussy is so perfect,” he gasps, leaning back as he slides the hand from his shoulder down to grab the base of your tail, “gripping me so fucking tight.”
He tugs lightly and you keen, body thrashing wildly as your pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock. 
“Fuck that’s hot,” he groans, chin dropping to his chest to watch him fuck your cunt. 
The more he pets and tugs on your tail, the harder you squeeze down on his dick. Leon’s fingers also never let up on teasing and rubbing your clit while the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and makes you squeal. 
“Leon, ungh— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you slur out, drooling on the slick material of the sleeping bag.
“Please cum for me,” he keeps the same breakneck pace paired with circling your clit and tail, “want that fat pussy creaming my cock, mommy.”
Your body locks up underneath him and Leon feels a gush of slick push his cock out and wet thighs; quickly recovering, he shoves his dick back inside your spasming walls and humps your pussy fast and hard. 
“You fucking squirted,” he whines, “never had a girl squirt on my cock and you fucking—god, I’m cumming, fuck, this chubby fucking pussy is making me cum, oh mommy—”
Leon nearly collapses as he presses himself as tight against your ass as possible, balls drawn up tight and pulsing as he spills deep inside your cunt. Your slick walls milk him for every drop— his dick spurting rope after rope of thick hot cum until it’s dripping from your used hole. 
When he goes to pull out, you whine and press your ass back against him. 
“Stay,” you sigh, “don’t want a mess just yet.”
Shuddering, he groans as your walls flutter and hug his cock. In no time, he’s just as stiff and hard as he was ten minutes ago. 
You moan low in your throat, “You can go again?”
“Yeah,” Leon’s breathless reply surprises himself, cock flexing inside your pussy and making you whine. 
The second time Leon creampies your pussy is rough and nasty. 
Pulling out, he flips you onto your back and slips his cock back inside your cunt. Slick and cum ooze out around his fat cock, but he’s too busy pressing your legs up and over his shoulders to notice.  
Mewling against his messy kisses, you clench and whine from Leon’s rough fucking. At this point, he can’t stop himself from giving it to you hard and fast.
“Gonna fuck your little cunt all night, mommy,” he knows he has no filter at this point, completely pussy drunk, but it doesn’t stop him from talking, “you’re gonna be stuffed to the brim, stuffed full of my cum.”
“Leon,” you moan, nails digging into his back and making him buck harder, dick knocking into your cervix roughly. 
“Yeah? Like that? I’m gonna pound this hot little pussy til you can’t take it anymore. Fuck, ‘m gonna give my mommy what she needs,” he growls out, feeling your heels bounce against his back with his thrusts.
“Want it,” you grin wickedly up at him, “give it to me, Leon. Be a good boy for mommy.”
He’s too wound up from earlier so in no time at all Leon’s cumming inside your pussy for the second time that night. His fingers pinch and rub your slippery clit until you’re clamping down tight on his cock, milking him into overstimulation as he finishes spilling his seed in your sticky walls.
Pulling out with a grunt, Leon collapses next to you with a sigh. Laying there in the quiet, he lets his heart rate drop back to normal before turning to you.
“You really want to get pregnant?”
You smirk and it makes his pulse race. 
“No, that little issue has been fixed,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “but it’s fun to pretend, right?”
Leon’s cock twitches against his thigh and he nods. 
“Yeah,” pink blooms across his cheekbones, “I liked it.”
Curling up into his side, he softly runs a finger across one of your ears. 
“Can I really keep you?” He whispers.
Night sounds slowly seep back into his awareness as a cicada screams nearby. 
“Can you truly keep a wild thing?” You muse humorously, head tilting back so he can see your bright eyes. 
At his contemplative silence, you run your hands through his hair with a half smile, “But I want to go home with you, Leon. If the offer is there.”
“Please,” he blurts out, not caring if he sounds desperate or whipped, “I’d love for you to come home with me.”
Smile softening your features, you brush the fringe from his eyes, “Then, I’m yours.”
Relief and excitement fills his chest and he grins, “Perfect.”
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oceantornadoo · 7 months ago
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the cabin in the highlands (johnny mactavish x f!reader)
reminder that i suck at scottish accents
--
“johnny, why did you bring me here?”
he flicked the ash off his cigarette and raised it to his mouth.
“ye said ye were gonna be lonely on the next break.”
actually, you had said you were going to be alone, which is different. you wanted to be alone because you needed a break from this. the overbearing presence of johnny, his scent cloying with your nostrils and settling in the air. every joke. every playful punch, every brush of the waist was wrapped in your mind like a twisted christmas present, with no end and no beginning. you treasured your moments together but couldn’t make sense of them at all.
of course, johnny didn't care about any of that, which was why you were smoking outside a cabin in the highlands, eyes tracking the fog rolling over the distant mountains. you could have been relaxing in your flat near base - alone, sure, but at least you'd be at ease. instead, your heart rate was perpetually elevated, shoulders bunched at every movement of johnny's. it was quiet here, no gunfire or commands in your ear. just you and johnny, in his small cabin that he liked to come to in between deployments. "air clears everythin' up 'ere." he had said, pointing to his skull, where the bullet had grazed. you couldn't deny him that - it was beautiful and peaceful and calm, your thoughts slowing to the pace of a dripping faucet when you had a moment to yourself. not now, of course.
it was early morning, the sun just cresting over the horizon. bit chilly, but not enough to see your breath. johnny had honest-to-god rocking chairs on his back porch, wooden creaky things you both sat in as you watched the sunrise in silence. you wrapped your hands tighter around your tea mug as johnny finished his cigarette, a habit he seemed to have picked up from ghost in the past few weeks. you'd thought you brought warm enough clothes, leggings and sweats packed to the brim, but clearly you underestimated the kind of cold in the highlands. even with the summer air, the early morning chill sank deep into your bones. "ye're shakin' like a leaf, lass." you shook your head, taking another sip of your tea. "still waking up, johnny. unlike you, i try to sleep in when we're not deployed. still catching up from three weeks ago." he grunted, finishing his cigarette and putting out the stub on his ashtray. you tracked his movements, eyes tracing the veins and battle worn callouses of his hands, disappearing into his thick fleece jacket.
"c'mere." you must have heard him wrong. you turned to him, furrowed eyebrows asking a silent question. "i'm sorry?" he grinned, patting his lap. "am warm. c'mon." you rolled your eyes, averting your gaze to the mountains again. "don't be dumb, johnny. i'm fine." silence. and then, a large hand appeared in your vision, plucking the mug out of your hands. he came back, tucking one arm under your knees and the other around your back, tugging you up into his arms. "johnny! i was comfy!" he laughed into the nape of your neck, mohawk cutting off your field of vision. he smelled good, like pine and the remnants of last night's fire, home mixed up into a scent.
johnny maneuvered himself back into his seat, plopping you into his lap. "better, bon?" you nodded meekly, tucking yourself into his lap. he was warm all over, your forehead coming to rest on his collarbone. he ran one hand up and down your thighs, tracing the lines of your pajama pants, while the other hand secured you against him. "thin pants." he murmured, almost to himself. you weren't sure where to put your hands, suddenly thrown by the absurdity of your position, curled up in your fellow sergeant's lap. your ass was directly against his crotch, rubbing against his sweatpants. you swore you could feel something getting harder against you, choosing to ignore it completely. "johnny, this is hardly appropriate we're-" "not at work. jus' ye an' me." you blew out a harsh breath. "i don't know what to think, johnny." what to think about his offer to go see his cabin. what to think about accepting and following through. what to think about wearing his sweatshirt, sitting in his lap. what to think about being the only two people around for miles. "don't. lemme hold you, mo chridhe." you gave up, sinking into his arms.
your focus turned from the mountains to him. his scent, wrapping you in his embrace. the softness of his fleece jacket. the safety of his arms, still petting you like something precious. out of nowhere, an idea came to your mind. you turned slowly, pulling a bit out of his embrace. he grumbled and you shushed him with a glare. gently, you took your hand out of your lap to run it through his hair. your theory was correct. this harsh military man kept his mohawk butter soft, your hand passing easily through the strands. you pressed your nails in a bit, just to experiment, and were rewarded with a low growl, reverberating in your thighs. he closed his eyes, blue gaze now hidden, leaning into your touch. you shifted your weight, pulling out of his lap to straddle him instead, thighs surrounding his own like a vice. he pulled you forward, eyes still closed, hands digging into your pajamas as he forced you as close as possible. your core rubbed against him, clothed cunt rocking in his lap, reveling in the hardness there. your hands were still exploring his hair, dragging your nails this way and that, tracking his every groan and tucking it in somewhere hidden in your heart. whenever this bubble popped, whenever he got bored and moved on from this tug of war, you'd hoard those groans like a dragon protecting her treasure. his hands had traveled to your ass, pushing you even closer as his thumbs dug into your hips, circling. he gave you a roll of his hips, cock pressing against your aching cunt through layers of fabric.
"johnny, feels good." he did it again, catching your clit at a perfect angle. you let out a moan, uninhibited and from your center, and felt him grow even harder under you. you dropped your hands from his hair, forehead resting on his shoulder. "what if- fuck. just once, johnny? won't get awkward after, i promise." he stopped suddenly, hips falling against the chair. you let out a sound of protest, moving your head from his shoulder. "shit, i'm sorry i didn't mean-" he shut you up with a kiss: harsh, bruising, possessive. his hands came up to craddle your face, one moving south to grip your jaw in an almost-chokehold. he tugged you closer by the neck, earning a moan from your lips. you felt him smile against you, all content, before he dove back in, dominating the mood. coming out of your shock, you kissed him back with a fervor, biting his bottom lip slightly. johnny pulled back, suddenly all business.
"dinnae want t' fuck ye." oh. "then what...? why am i here?" he shook his head, removing a hand from your neck to rub it through his mohawk, then down his face. "d'ye like th' cabin?" the change in subject threw you. "the- the cabin? yeah, it's nice. i'm confused, how does that relate?" his eyes found yours again, searing into your soul. "it's fer ye. us." oh. your mouth dropped and he laughed at the sight, his honeyed sound soothing your nerves. "for us? what? why?" he smirked, all cocky now that he'd recovered from whatever that was. "dinnae want ye once, chridhe. want t' wake up with ye here every mornin. watch th' sunrise with ye in ma lap. no eyes, jus' us."
wildly, some part of your brain was still functioning, recalling all those interactions that had brought you here. your first duo mission, screaming at each other over comms. when you lost your pocketknife gifted to you from your last captain and johnny gave you his own, which now traveled with you everywhere. shitty safehouses with no mattresses, sharing sleeping bags to stay warm. his hands, practically paws, always around your waist, keeping you close. movie nights in the common room, organized by yours truly, always ending with your head on his arm, using his bicep as a pillow. dancing on bar dancefloors, drunk logic making it ok to hide your face in his neck, johnny's arms always on the top of your ass. that one fight with that creepy sergeant from another team, your pleas the only thing to stop johnny from breaking his neck. and finally, the ring around your fourth finger (right hand, not left) in your favorite metal. something he had presented to you privately with pink cheeks, scratching his neck and murmuring something about found it at a flea market, even though you both knew it had to cost hundreds and just happened to be your exact size.
"johnny, you're my best friend. what if it-" you hiccupped suddenly, overwhelmed. "what if it doesn't work. what if in five years, we're screaming at each other over small stuff. god forbid, what if it's silent? i can't do it without you, johnny. fuck." the tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, the image of johnny blurry. he shook his head with a small smile, fingers gently brushing the tears out of your eyes. "aye an' if it does? five years an' yer ma wife? breakfast watchin' th' sun, christmas wi' th' lads, bairns in a few more? no doubtin' us." he slipped that ring off your hand, transferring it to your left, fourth finger. you emitted a small gasp, the metal warming under his touch. "please." his voice broke on the last syllable; your stupidly insane loveable hunk of a man had a few tears in his blue eyes. the sight nearly broke you, and you vowed he'd never have to beg you again. "yes. yes with you, johnny."
and like all best promises, you sealed it with a kiss.
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holdmytesseract · 7 months ago
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Hello I was wondering if you could do a Daryl Dixon in the first few seasons when he got shot and an arrow to the side. Where the reader is taking care of him while he is recovering.
Approaches
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When Andrea mistakes Daryl for a walker and shots him, you are here to take care of the injured archer; causing the both of you to get closer...
Set in Season 2!
Warnings: Andrea? gunshot, weapons, TWD stuff, blood, injuries, fluff, idiots in love?
Word Count: 1,7k
a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this! I never wrote S2 Daryl before, so... Very exciting! I hope you like it, nonny and thanks for requesting!
Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
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You were in Dale's RV, peacefully napping on the little bench with your back pressed up against the window and your body squashed between the back rest and the small table. Your actual plan was to study the map Hershel had given your group, in order to search for Sophia - and not to doze off, but well... Your body had a different opinion on your priorities. And you'd have definitely slept for another while, if not a loud noise ripped you cruelly out of your sleep.
You shot up; heart hammering against your chest. A gunshot. It was a gunshot! "Shit," you cursed and scrambled to get up. On slightly wobbly feet - due to your rushed movements, you more or less stumbled down the few steps of the RV and immediately ran to the front. You saw Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn up ahead on the meadow in distance waving and shouting something like mad men.
"What happened?" You asked and looked to your right, where Dale stood on the little ladder which led to the RV's roof. Andrea kneeled on top; rifle in hands and smiling victoriously. "Apparently a walker made-," was all Dale could say, before he got interrupted by quick footsteps coming from the house and Hershel's voice.
"What on earth is going on out here?" He yelled; all the other's gathering around him. All eyes were directed on the four men, but when they started to crouch around the 'walker' and lift him up to his feet, everybody soon realised that the walker was definitely not a walker.
"Oh my god, is that...?" Andrea spoke almost in a panicked voice; quickly ushering Dale down the ladder, so that she could climb down as well.
You took a few steps forward; squeezing your eyes shut to identify the 'walker', but deep down, you already knew. No ten seconds later, your eyes widened; heart rate picking up again. "Daryl! Oh my god, that's Daryl!" You started to run; Andrea following you behind.
"I-Is he dead?" You asked Rick and Shane - who had each draped one arm of the archer over their shoulders and carrying him, in a quivering voice. Rick shook his head. "Nah, just unconscious," the leader answered; then turned his gaze to a shaken Andrea. "Bullet only grazed him."
Slight relief washed over you, but your worries nevertheless didn't cease. Daryl looked bad. All caked in dirt and mud; his top soaked in blood. You couldn't tell if it was his own or from walkers.
Chewing on your thumbnail, you watched how Shane and Rick dragged the archer inside the house, so that Hershel could take care of his wound. You hesitatingly followed them and sat down on the steps of the porch; soon getting lost in thoughts.
It wasn't like you and Daryl were a thing or something. Actually not at all. However, you had grown very fond of him the past days and weeks. Something intrigued you and seemed to draw you closer to Daryl. You liked him. A lot. Most of the group only saw his rough and edged exterior, but you also saw that he had also a different side. His selflessness. Braveness. Protectiveness. You knew Daryl was a good man.
Almost everyone of the group had noticed, of course, that you had cast an eye on the crossbow-wielding redneck. You weren't quite subtle in your words and gestures; how you acted around him. You, though, you were oblivious to the others observations.
"Hey, Y/N," a voice urged to your ears and caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Turning your head to the left, you saw how Lori placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?"
You gave her a soft smile. "Yeah, sure." She nodded and gestured towards the main door. "You should go to him," Lori said and gave you a wink as she passed you by. "He's upstairs." Your eyes followed the brown haired woman, before they travelled over to the door. Biting your lip, you stood up and made your way inside.
Just as you set foot in the hallway, you saw Hershel exiting a room to the left; some medical stuff in hands. The older man saw you approaching and gave you a nod. "H-How is he? Is it bad?" Hershel shook his head. "He'll live. A few days of rest and he should be a'right again." Now you were the one who nodded. "Thank you." He gave you an uptight smile as he passed you by. "Can I, uh, go to him?" "Of course." With those words, Hershel was out of your sight; left you standing alone in the hallway.
You stared at the doorhandle for a moment, took a deep breath and knocked. A gruff 'Yeah' coming from inside the room allowed you to step inside. So, you did.
Gently closing the door behind yourself, your eyes fell on Daryl, who was snugly wrapped up in a blanket on the bed; a bandage around his head. At the sound of your footsteps, he turned; now facing you.
"Hey," you softly greeted him; giving him a small smile. "Thought I'll come look after you..." You were still concerned about his well-being. After all, he was shot - even though the bullet just grazed. "How are you feeling?"
Daryl shook his shoulders with a grunt. "'M fine." You weren't neither convinced by the answer nor were you believing that he was telling the truth, but you decided to leave it for now. So, you just nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him; gently placing a hand on his arm. Your skin on his didn't fail to send a shiver down your spine. This bold, simple gesture was already enough to drive the butterflies within your stomach wild - and not just yours...
You were totally oblivious to Daryl's slight flinch as you suddenly touched his arm; eyelids fluttering for just a moment. It wasn't like the others from the group hadn't 'touched' him before... A clap from Rick on the back, Carol's hand on his shoulder. Simple gestures, which he usually wasn't fond of. Bad memories were connected with touch, so he learned to avoid it. But your touch... Your palm on his forearm... That was different.
"What happened?" You whispered. Daryl could see worry in your eyes. Honest concern. You didn't just ask out of politeness, no... You meant it.
Once more he shrugged his shoulders; trying to play it cool. "Horse threw me off, fell down a slope 'n well... Caused one of ma arrows to kinda impale me." Your eyes widened. "Hang on, wha'? You got impaled by your arrow?!" "Yeah, 's not a big deal." You felt how your heart sped up. "Not a big deal?! Daryl, you could've died!"
He shook his head. "Nah. I ain't jus' die like a pussy. 'S a boring death. 'Sides Hershel got me fixed again."
You blinked; little bit overwhelmed by the information and his words. You swallowed; worry taking over then once again.
"Are you in pain? Is there something I can do for you?"
And that was the moment Daryl's cool façade started to crumble down entirely. You were so sweet and kind to him - something he didn't deserve. And yet you willingly gave it to him. From that day on, Daryl stopped pushing you away. He let you stay with him while his wounds healed; let you entertain him with a book you read out loud or some of your funny childhood and teenager stories. You brought him food, made sure he stayed hydrated in the Georgia heat and cleaned his wounds and changed the bandages. You were no nurse, but you had at least a little experience.
"I don't hurt you, do I?" You asked while you carefully dabbed the wound on his temple, where Andrea's bullet had grazed him. "Nah, ya don't. 'S all good." "Good." You gave Daryl a small smile, before you concentrated on cleaning the wound again. Daryl's blue-grey eyes watched you intensely; saw the frown on your face and the tip of your tongue poking out between your closed lips. His heart fluttered. You looked cute - and he could've watched you for several hours like this, but unfortunately you were way to quickly finished and before he could blink, you had patched his wound again and with that your touch was gone.
"There you go. All finished." "Thank you," Daryl croaked out; his voice definitely more hoarse than usual. You nervously tucked a loose strand behind your ear, "Of course." before meeting his gaze; looking into his beautiful blue-grey orbs.
The tension between you and him was literally cuttable with a knife as you stared into each other's eyes; totally lost. Neither of you didn't even notice how you moved closer. Daryl propping himself up on his elbows, while you leaned down; on your way to meet him halfway.
But when the redneck's brain finally managed to catch up with the situation he was in and suddenly realised that he was inches away from kissing you, his mind panicked and immediately went to pull up the invisible walls he had built around himself through the years - and so Daryl turned his head away, before your lips could touch his; clearing his throat.
"I should... I should get some more sleep."
You immediately sat back on your haunches; the beautiful, intimate moment gone. Bursted in front of your eyes like a bubble. You cleared your throat as well; nodding. "Yeah, I, uh, I should go, too. 'S getting dark soon, so, uh, time for dinner, right?" You tried to stay cool and just play off what happened a few seconds ago, but you were not very good at it - and Daryl noticed. Nevertheless, he played along.
"Yeah, right."
You gave him a soft, uptight smile and got up. "I, uh, I'll come back later to bring you dinner, okay?" "Alrigh'." Another awkward smile crossed your lips, before you went to leave hit tent; zipping it shut behind yourself.
The moment you were gone, Daryl led himself fall back down on his sleeping bag with a frustrating groan; rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to - but he just got cold feet. His fear of letting someone getting too close to him in the way.
He groaned again. "Ya fuckin' coward..."
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Tags: @suniloli @stitchintimefan @celtic-crossbow @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @fuseburner @sweetz1919 @in-this-minute @mandywholock1980 @lou12346789 @mischief-dream @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months ago
Text
What Matters Most
Dean Winchester & daughter!reader, Sam Winchester & niece!reader, Cas & Winchester!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you get injured during a hunt, and Dean doesn’t know what to do.
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“I want you to stay close to me, and keep your gun up,” your dad ordered as he slammed the trunk of the Impala, shotgun in hand. “If this is a ghoul, and he is trying to chomp up warm bodies, then we gotta be ready to blast his head off, understand?”
“I’m ready,” you said, your own shotgun resting in your steady hands.
“Alright.” Dean nodded. “Now Uncle Sam went around back, so make sure you’re not blowing his head off, ok?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at your dad’s comment, but his stern expression wiped the smile off your face.
“Yes sir. I’ll be careful.”
It was not going well. By the time you’d finally spotted the ghoul, he was coming up right behind Sam, and you couldn’t shoot it without shooting him.
By the time he’d gotten out of the way, the ghoul had closed the distance between you and him before you could shoot, and he had the front of your shotgun in his hand.
“Hey!” Your dad took aim at him, but at the last second the ghoul twisted your gun, moving you into the line of fire, just barely. The bullet grazed your arm, knocking you off balance and loosening your grip on the shotgun. The ghoul yanked the gun away and threw it, taking the opportunity to jump on your staggering figure. Already off balance and reeling from the wound on your arm, you went down immediately.
“No!” Your dad was halfway to the ghoul when its jaws clamped down on your neck.
White-hot pain shot from your neck and ignited the nerves of your face and shoulder, so that the pain pulsed back and forth. You were still screaming when your dad reached you and yanked the ghoul off of you. Your screams slowly faded to whimpers as Dean raised his shotgun and fired at point-blank range, blowing the head off of the ghoul.
“Hey, hey it’s ok.” The shotgun was on the floor, and your dad reached you in seconds, easing his hand under your neck to lift your head. You cried out as his fingers grazed the bloody mess on the side of your neck where the ghoul had bitten. “You’re ok, you’re gonna be just fine,” Dean said in a thick voice.
“We’re not gonna make it to the hospital,” Sam hissed, needing only a glance at your wound to see its severity.
“Cas!” Dean cried out. “Cas, we-we need you!”
“Da…dad…” you whimpered, feebly lifting your arms towards him.
“Hey, shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, lifting you higher into his hold so he could wrap his arms around you. He cradled you in his lap, rocking back and forth. “You’re gonna be just fine baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
“Dad—“ your voice came out in a desperate whine as each unsatisfying breath shot pain into your neck. “I ca—I can’t—“
“You can, you’re ok, you just gotta keep breathing and Cas is gonna fix you all up, I promise, you’re ok,” Dean repeated in a mantra, as if saying so would make it true. “Cas!” Somewhere inside his head, Dean knew that Cas could hear him whether he screamed or whispered, but he screamed anyway. “Cas, I—I need you here, Cas! Cas, come on!”
“C’mon please,” Sam whispered. “Cas, please.”
But no answer came as your breath slowly faded to nothing. Dean heard your breathing stop at the same time he felt your head fall against his shoulder, and your body slump completely against him.
“No no no no no.” Dean twisted you around so that you were cradled like a baby in his arms, and he looked down into your face, desperate to see that spark of life that kept him going even at the worst times. “No, no you’re ok, baby come back to me, just open your eyes, you…you’re ok…” Dean felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t acknowledge it. You weren’t gone, you couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible. “Sweetheart, I need you to open your eyes, I need you—“
“Dean.” Cas’s voice startled Dean. “Dean, I’m sorry, I was—“
“Hel—help her,” Dean croaked, lifting your body towards the angel. Cas staggered slightly in surprise when he saw your pale, unmoving features and the gory mess at your neck. He feared he was too late as he reached his hand out and pressed to fingers delicately to your forehead…
A gentle blue light pulsed, Cas’s power on display as your neck resealed itself and the bullet graze on your arm closed up. Blood still covered both wounds, proof of the gruesome battle that had taken place.
Dean’s eyes never even wandered to the healing wounds, they never left your unblinking eyes.
“C’mon,” he breathed. “Baby c’mon, I need you to breathe.”
Sam and Cas turned away simultaneously, unable to look any longer at your still form or at Dean’s desperate tears. With their backs turned, they weren’t able to see how your eyes slowly shuttered shut before blinking open again, but they did hear the great, gasping breath that you took as you sat up in Dean’s arms.
“N/N—“ Dean gasped, hugging you close to him. “You’re ok…you’re ok now…” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, cradling your head in his hands. “I’ve got you baby.”
“Dad.” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around your dad’s neck and clinging to him. “I-I thought—“
“Shh, you’re ok. Cas healed you, you’re gonna be just fine,” Dean soothed as he slowly got to his feet, keeping you firmly in his arms.
“You scared us, kid,” Sam breathed, wiping a few stray tears off his face as he reached up and cupped your cheek.
“Let’s get you home,” Dean said, gently guiding your face to rest against his shoulder with a hand at the back of your head.
“You should come home with us,” Sam said quietly to Cas as they followed Dean to the Impala. “She’s gonna want to see you once she’s calmed down.”
“I almost didn’t make it here fast enough,” Cas chided himself. “If I didn’t—“
“Don’t,” Sam insisted. “Don’t do that to yourself. You made it in time, and she’s gonna be fine. That’s all that matters.”
“I…I suppose, yeah,” Cas agreed slowly, lifting his head to look at you, content and calming down now that you were safe in your dad’s arms. “That’s what matters.”
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