#she also got a gunshot wound so i think i watched too much of the resident yesterday

[pilot-boi]

Pilot AUs Masterlist

Ever wondered what the fuck all my AUs are about? Well wonder no longer!

This is a list of all of my AUs (so far), or at least all of the ones I could find. They all have summaries and most have links to where fics have been posted, or to the tag on Tumblr where all the posts are about it

I will keep updating this as more AUs happen, because I am sure more AUs will happen. Also, I can’t tag all of the AUs in this post, there are literally too many

(List under the cut)

MIA

The Original AU

Jaune gets kidnapped and beat the fuck up for information

Literally just whump the entire time

BNHA

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of BNHA characters

Fullmetal

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of FMAB characters

Tour Group

RNJR + Qrow get lost on their way to Mistral and basically just fuck around on vaction

Very bad fashion from Jaune

VERY cracky

Sun, Neptune, and Ilia end up coming along with the plot when RNJR don’t show up

The whole plot still happens, it’s just treated VERY much for comedy

Paperwork

If Roman was told to go to hell he simply wouldn’t

After the boy dies he goes to heaven because nobody was paying attention and he snuck through the door with all the other fucking million people who died the night of the Fall

Hangs out with Summer, Pyrrha, and sometimes Penny and they watch the plot through the clouds

Stranger Things

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in Stranger Things

Not a straight up character replacement, actual different plots because of the different personalities

Mistral

Everyone gets to Mistral, fights at Haven, and they go no further

Buy a house and all live together while doing missions and being domestic

Jaune gets his ass kicked every other week

That’s it, that’s the plot

Army Birds

Have you ever wished Qrow Branwen could date Maes Hughes from FMAB?

Mistral AU offshoot

After the phone booth Maes is isekai’d into RWBY and is found by Qrow and Jaune

Qrow because ship, Jaune because holy shit gunshot wounds

It’s like Fairgame but if Clover wasn’t a fucking narc

Coffee Shop/College

Your classic coffee shop AU combined with a classic college AU

All the kiddos are sophomores/juniors at Beacon University

Shipping and shenanigans ensue

Seamonkeys are the coffee shop ship, but Jaune also works there

Heartwood

An AU based on a ship that HarmonyLight and I came up with between JNR+Marrow

Diverges about halfway through Volume 8 as it hadn’t finished when we came up with it

Whale dies, but who knows after that

They ride a boat to Vacuo

Daemon

What it says on the tin

They’ve all got daemons but the plot is the same

Twice the characters, twice the pain

Percy Jackson

What it says on the tin

The kids but if they were in Percy Jackson

Not a straight up character replacement

Different characters take different places as necessary for the plot

Godly parents are all different

Hanahaki

Pyrrha is really pining in this one y’all

Oof oof ouch angst she’s choking on roses for the boy

Space

Very Firefly inspired space AU with JNPR as a crew of a ship

RWBY are crew of another ship

Political nonsense and spaceship fights galore

Soulmate

Platonic and romantic and all those in between

When you get hurt, your soulmate blooms flowers in the same place

Vibrancy and size of the flowers depends on the severity of the injury

Canon events are the same

Time Travel

Oscar gets sent back in time for fix-it purposes, but not as far as you’d think

Timeline diverges during the finale of V7, when ALPN end up in the vault during the Maiden nonsense

Some doomed timeline shit happens and literally EVERYONE dies before Oscar and Jaune’s eyes

Oscar unlocks his semblance (time travel whoopee) and Jaune boosts him so he can go back and F1X TH1S

Blooming

AKA, Pyrrha lives because I miss her

Through the power of Arkos and Jaune being a soft boy who keeps giving his maybe girlfriend flowers, the girl lives and the world is saved

90% Beacon era with a VERY short epilogue

5+1 Style

Modelling

Baby’s first RWBY fic courtesy of inspiration from the OG Jaune server

Arkos are both models and both idiots

Pining, fake dating, and lots of fluff ensue

Daycare

ALMOST everyone except Weiss, Jaune, Pyrrha, and Ilia are 8-years-old or younger

Modern/realistic AU

Weiss owns a daycare center that watches all these kids, Arkos are her employees

90% fluff

10% the inevitable angst of some of the characters being orphans

Les Miserables

What it says on the tin

I wrote down like seven pages of notes without stopping to drink water

Sort of character replacement AU but with subtle things changed for to make sense

Major Character Death

Duh

Qrow Fucks Up

Least thought through honestly

Canon but if everything boiled down to being somehow because of Qrow’s bad luck

VERY cracky

LOTR

What it says on the tin

Character replacement AU but with some MAJOR things changed for to make sense

Plot is the same, but how they get there might not always be

Flying Monkeys

Sun gets kidnapped by Salem for Grimm body part experiments and all he gets are wings and a boat load of trauma

Finally one not about Jaune

Oops looks like Sun got fuckin tortured for months all so I could make a dumb pun oops

The only one of these with a whole comic done about it

WAY more stuff in my head than necessary

Fallen Angel

Jaune and MOST of the baddies are kidnapped as children and experimented on by Salem as she tries to make them into angels and become a god

Less complicated than it sounds

User/Reader influenced

Modern AU of Remnant, timeline diverges after the gods leave

Magic is taken away and EVERYONE is made into part animal part humans

Nobody is bird though, and they’re more animal than Faunus

The gang literally fistfights “god”

Wings

Canon but if everyone had bird wings

Way more lore than necessary

The plot is the same, HarmonyLight and I just did a hell of worldbuilding

CatsVDogs

V9 AU where Jaune and the Curious Cat get into a relationship during his time trapped and it’s all downhill from there

CC is hella abusive, Jaune gets hella traumatized, it’s a bad time

Jaune’s shadow is sorta sentient

CC is a twinky tumblr sexyman catboy

Jaune gets possessed by CC instead of Neo, but he gets better

Voices

After the Fall Jaune starts being able to hear voices of dead people

Mostly can hear Huntsmen because they’re Auras are stronger

Mostly thinks he’s going crazy because Ren, Nora, and Ruby can’t hear the voices

Boy is stressed, and tired, and at the end of his rope

Wolf

Werewolf AU I made because it was Spooky Season

Jaune gets mauled by a Beowolf as a child and will turn into one when he gets too emotional

He can’t control it though

Runs away after blowing up at Pyrrha and saves Cardin in wolf form at Forever Fall

Starstuff

The one where Jaune glows when he’s happy because he’s LITERALLY sunshine boy

Everyone has nature related powers that slowly awaken to show that the gods are coming back

Wrote most of it in 2021 to HarmonyLight and then forgot about it for two years

DND

Started as the gang playing DND, turned into the gang LIVING in DND

Not in Feyrun, set in a DND-ified version of Remnant

Characters are not the classes/races you’d think

Way too much thought put into it

Mando

The Arcs are similar to the Mandalorians, but that’s where the Star Wars ends

Jaune adopts Oscar and eventually Nora

Fluff ensues

Twins

“Hey, Yang and Jaune look kind of alike” taken to the extreme

Jaune is abandoned by Raven and raised by the Arcs

Parent Trap realization/angst ensues

Twins have a psychic bond

Mirror Man

Jaune retreats WAY far into the RK persona

RK “kills” Jaune to protect everyone from “a horrible killer”

Very angst much ouch

Not actually DID, just mentally protecting himself from V8 trauma

Modern Magic

That’s it, that’s the AU

Inspired by all those modern witch AUs I used to read back in 2014 MCYT

Set in “real world” and they’re all in college

Man out of Time

Jaune is a timelord, but he isn’t the Doctor, I literally can’t stress this enough

His TARDIS crashed and he was adopted by the Arcs

Regenerates way too often for how long he’s been alive

Healing Rust

Yo that boy’s got hella trauma, let’s speak on that

Set after V9 and written as a MAJOR healing fic

Oneshots inspired by asks sent in

Royalty

Obligatory royalty AU

Jaune and Weiss are the royals, Pyrrha is Jaune’s guard

Everyone is involved somehow

There’s angst in The Plot, but mostly it’s just Armoured Angel

Fusion

Jaune’s Semblance manifests as a way to fuse the souls of two people, combing their bodies

Two people can fuse, but Jaune has to have fused with both of them first

LOTS of art of different character fusions

Angst and identity issues galore

Burning Knight

When Penny is killed, Jaune inherits the powers

“Woohoo, time to repress this”

Egg cracking is pushed off until RWBY fall into the Ever After

Jaune is a girl who feels like a guy, still uses he/him pronouns

Hare’s Breadth

Jaune dies on the tower during the Fall, Pyrrha survives

Blacksmith repairs him to prevent a paradox

Juniper is used to repair since his body was dissolved by Cinder

Angst and fluff and being confused about why the hell he’s alive and a jackalope-taur

Knights in Time

Jaune and Weiss are sent back to Volume 1 by the Blacksmith

Time travel fix-it ensues

Starts with White Knight, eventual Armored Angels

[monin1ca]

Tearing at the seams (Chamber x reader)

Word count:1.7k

Warnings: Angst with comfort at the end (because I hate bad endings), suggestive-ish, cursing, mentions of wounds, google translated french

Synopsis: Being Sage's intern was challenging, and it took time to understand how to use your powers in the desired way. Your training has brought you to this stage, where you are tending to the protocol's flirt; Chamber.

Fortunately, he escaped with only one wound in his torso and one shot in his shoulder. Sage already did most of the work and tasked you to apply the antibiotics and change the bandages on Chamber. You had “history” with the gunsmith; back in high school, you developed feeling for the infamous heartthrob Vincent Fabron. Being the naive idiot, you were, you confessed to him on the last day of school. Only for him to be called by his parents to leave ‘right this instant.’ He gives you what you think was a fake smile, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go-” leaving you there- heartbroken and all alone, your beating heart tearing at the seams. 

Being Sage’s intern was a tough job; learning how to use your radiant abilities and use them for how they were intended; was a long journey. Though, now you were fully capable of controlling them. Sage’s clinic was also quite hectic, ranging from minor cuts and bruises to dead people being brought back to life. You could only imagine how stressed Sage was before she took you in, but now? Holy shit.

Some agents were chosen to partake in an infiltration mission to their mirror world; the damage to the agents was considerable. The selected ones were Sage, Omen, Jett, Fade, Sova, Reyna, Chamber, and Viper. Your mentor came home with a few gunshots- not too significant. The rest? It was a different story- Sova broke a few bones of his ribcage, Jett blacked out, Fade got substantial gunshot wounds, Omen’s shadows started leaking out of his armor, Reyna dislocated her ankle, Viper inhaled too much of her mirror’s nasty toxins and who else were you forgetting… Ah, right. The man you were tending to Chamber…

But when you were recruited into the Valorant protocol and saw the French man- You decided to pretend your silly little confession never happened, and he never brought it up. Though lately- you started falling for him again; it was idiotic. All the playful banter and flirting made your heart beat so much faster, the sweet gestures he does for you. You feel delusional because you keep thinking- ‘I dont see him doing this to other people. It makes me feel… special’ You know, you know. But you learned from your mistakes and told yourself never to confess to Chamber.

You snap out of your train of nostalgic memories and knock on the room where Sage said where she left Chamber. “Oh?” The injured man’s muffled voice reverberates through the door, “Monsieur, I’m here to tend to your injuries.” You shouted, hoping it was enough to be heard through the thick door. “Ah, Y/N? Come in; the door is unlocked.” You opened the door to be greeted with a strong scent of cologne; the room was intricately decorated with white and gold. You shuffled awkwardly into the room; you looked around the room, seeing the male in his canopy bed. The tops of the bed held a translucent curtain with gold lines coming down on it, and soft duvet sheets crumpled due to Chamber laying down lazily. Everything in this room reminds you of how poor you were compared to him. You strode to the bed and placed your materials on the nearby nightstand; you noticed his iconic glasses and gold watch that probably costs millions. Vincent wasn’t wearing his vest and tie and was only wearing his white button-down. Which told you he was already anticipating your arrival. You sigh deeply to yourself,

‘Let’s get this over with before I combust.’

“Alrighty, mister, how are you feeling right now?” You inquire, looking at everything but him. “I was doing ok, but I feel better now that you are here.” The latter winks, and you playfully roll your eyes at him. “May I?” You gesture at his torso, and he smiles. “Please, knock yourself out.” Chamber pats a spot on his left, motioning for you to approach and do your work. You strolled to his side; the bed dipped at your weight when you placed your knee. Your hands slowly made their way to the buttons; you could feel his eyes on you. Even though you felt like prey being watched by its predator, you continued unbuttoning the attire. It felt like eons when you finally reached the last button, your hands dangerously close to his lower half. Once you finished, you quickly pulled your hands away to avoid the awkwardness and pulled them back up higher to remove the first plaster. ‘His torso looked like it was a frame of a greek god. Shit, what am I thinking?’ You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts and focused on removing the plaster as painlessly as possible. It was so adorable how flustered you were on Chamber’s end, The tippy top of your ears with multiple shades of red, and how you avoided eye contact with him. It was just so adorable~ You placed your left hand on his abs to have support and used your right hand to peel the plaster slowly; you heard the french man hiss and groan in pain at the action. ‘God, that sounded so hot.’ “Just a little bit more and- There.” You chirped, relieved that it was partially over. You threw the old bloody plaster in a nearby bin and got the antibiotic; you opened the medicine and squeezed it onto a soft cotton pad. “I’ll apply this special antibiotic that should sanitize, clean, and remove the scar of your wound. It might hurt, but you're a big boy, right?” You explained to him; he chuckles at the last part of your sentence. “I am a big boy, mon Cheri. Though take it slow, I’m enjoying every aspect of this.” You were stunned, “I- W-what ever… Weirdo.” You lowered your head, hoping your hair was long enough to hide your face. You slowly rub the cotton pad on the gunsmith’s skin and hear the knee-wobbling hiss again, this time caused by the shock of the cold medicine colliding against his skin. At last, you were finished; you threw the used pad and grabbed the fresh new bandages. 

“Can you sit up a ‘Lil bit? I need a little allowance to wrap this around your body.” The male complies obediently, sitting up from his pillow and waiting for your move. You go closer and start wrapping the bandages around his body, your hot breath against his chest. His breath hitches as you slowly begin your little ministrations, as you were wrapping the bandages around- You notice that he has had previous injuries before this, the faint, faint scars proving it; sure, it was normal, but you never saw him get hurt before going into the protocol.  You were so lost in your train of thought Chamber had to point out you were adding too much fabric. “Were you enjoying the view that much, Cheri?” You were not going to lie to yourself, and you were enjoying the view. “Yeah, I was.” Now it was his turn to blush; he was silent after that one. ‘As you should, Mr. Heartthrob’ You chuckled to yourself, and you moved closer to him; Placing your hand and legs over him for stability, you almost looked like you were straddling Chamber if people walked in and saw the scene. “I’m going to treat your shot in the shoulder; I’ll go a bit closer, yeah?” He gives a slight nod, his accentuated cheeks still dusted in pink. You leaned closer and slowly removed the old plaster; the slight sounds of the plaster ripping off his skin made you shudder. You can only imagine how much he went through in his past injuries; Chamber notices the sadness on your face. “What’s wrong, mon ange?”  His hand reaches your face, gentle hands caressing your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, clutching the used plaster in your hands. “I.. Just- can’t imagine what you went through before joining the protocol..” You brushed the faint scars on his body; his body hitched at your touch. You feel like the air is being sucked out due to the heavy tension between you, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Silence… 

Suddenly, Chamber drops his hands lower, grabs your waist, and pulls you closer. “You are too good for me.” You yelp at the sudden action, and his slightly dry lips meet yours. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, perhaps when his lips touched yours, time stood still, but the beating in your chest only grew stronger. As your knees grew weak, you fell forward to his embrace; you could only concentrate on how smooth he was against your mouth and how completely he had taken over your senses. Chamber clouded your thoughts; all you could think of was Chamber. You moan slightly on his lips, signaling to pull away. He understood and pulled away; your head was spinning not from the lack of air but from why this was happening. You had millions of questions, but you could only muster “Why?” He laughs, “Well, the simplest explanation is; I like you too. And this tension? I could not stand it.” You wanted to pinch yourself to see if this was all real, but the loving look on his face told you this was all too real. “B-but my confession from all those years ago-” “My parents sent me home because,”  he cut you off. “I was drafted into the military; they wanted to send me far away. They’ve always thought I was incompetent and needed a so-called boost.” The truth behind his scars and why he left you behind the school amazed you. All these questions finally had answers; your eyes were filled with tears. “Ah, mon amour, don’t waste your pretty tears on me.” He says as he wipes your stray tears, “You still have to finish patching me up after all,” The male chuckles; you can’t hold back anymore, your heart tearing at the seams, not because it got broken. Now it is because your love for him is starting to overflow.

Author's note - THIS WAS INSPIRED BY ONE OF THE PROMPT THINGY I REBLOGED! HOPE YALL WILL ENJOY THIS ONE^^

[brownietown05]

Loosing Control

My first Detroit: Become Human Fanfic Hahaha

Around 1,200 words

Charakters: Sumo, Hank, Connor, Amanda

Curse Words (because... well its Hank), mentioning of two dead persons but there not important for the story

Have fun and tell me what you think :)

Summary: Just a moment where Cyberlife takes Control over Connor and Hank just wanted to watch the game

Connor got out of the elevator behind Hank into the hallway and put his coin in the pocket of his jacket.

A police officer was already waiting for them both and explained what had happened. A dead body on the balcony, a gunshot wound to the leg and chest, both of which led to death due to blood loss.

Hank listened carefully as they were led through the apartment that the balcony adjoined.

The window was in shards on the floor, some of them much smaller than others, which was not only due to the gunshots but also because the perpetrator walked over the glass to the body after shooting.

The living room showed no signs of damage or signs of a struggle. So the victim was standing on the balcony and was probably surprised.

"There's another body on the roof," the police officer informed them.

"Okay. We'll take a look right away," Hank said and looked at the crime scene.  "Did you find anything yet?" He asked Connor. Since the two of them started working together, that was one of the first questions Connor received, whereupon he listed all the clues and explained what had happened. It saved an infinite amount of time.

Hank nodded.

"Okay, then let's look upstairs."

They both went back to the elevator that took them to the roof terrace of the building.

The first thing they saw was the second victim, 42 years and male, lying on his back with his limbs outstretched and two gunshot wounds in the chest. There, too, Connor identified the body and began the analysis. Hank took a closer look at the surroundings.

"The perpetrator left the weapon over here." Hank called out and examined it. "He doesn't seem to have been particularly bright if he left it behind. Unless he was wearing gloves or was an android." He murmured.

Connor heard Hank's voice in the background as several pieces of information appeared in his vision.

Michael Harper

Male, 42 years old

Approximate time of death: 6:32....

His LED suddenly gave off a short but steady crackle, his vision became blurry and Connor twitched uncontrollably.

No, not now... Please was the last thing he thought before he was pulled into the Zen garden.

Amanda greeted him as always with her stoic and disappointed expression while she stood under a blossoming tree in fine robes. This time it was cloudy, the lanterns gave off no light and cold wind whipped around Connor.

The android approached the woman hesitantly and he knew that something else was happening while he was here.

"Connor." Amanda said as icy as the wind.

"Amanda. I'm in the middle of a case, I have to get back." Connor's teeth chattered from the increasing cold, but that was absurd. Why should he be able to feel the wind like that?

"I've warned you several times, Connor. I've tried several times to get you on the right path, to focus on the mission. But this lieutenant isn't making it easy for you." Her voice became more threatening and louder as she spoke and her look only grew angrier.

Connor feared for Hank at that moment, he didn't know what was happening to him while his body was left there uncontrolled.

"It's time we take care of this ourselves." Were Amanda's last words before she disappeared, leaving Connor with even more worries.

"Shit, why do people always have to kill someone on the weekend?" Hank muttered, cursing, and went to the railing to look down.

Connor, meanwhile, stood up next to the corpse and went to the gun that was lying a few meters away from the victim and grabbed it.

"I wanted to watch the game and drink a cold beer, but no... the people, or androids, decide to kill someone and we have to do the whole shit again because no one else can do it. What do you think Connor, we should... what the fuck are you doing with the gun Connor?"

The android, his partner and friend, pointed the gun at him and his face was as expressionless as Hank knew it from their first mission.

"Connor, what the hell is this, put the gun down!" Hank raised his hands and wanted to walk carefully towards the android, but Connor loaded the gun at the same moment and Hank decided against his idea.

"You are an obstacle to my mission, Lieutenant. Forgive me, I have to do this."

His voice was devoid of any emotion, as if Connor was just an android sent by cyberlife.

"Connor, whatever is going on, talk to me and put the thing down." Hank has never been good with words, but right now, suprisingly, he had absolutely no desire to die, especially not to be shot by Connor, while there was definitely something wrong with the boy. His LED glowed yellow and was spinning incessantly.

"As I said, you are preventing me from completing my mission. I can't let that happen any longer."

"Listen, no matter what rubbish Cyberlife has told you, they're wrong, you hear me? You're not just a machine that follows orders and I'm going to..."

"Shut up!" Connor shouted and aimed the gun at Hank's chest and Hank was a thousand percent sure that Connor would hit the center of his heart if he shot now. He saw Connor's arm tense up to pull the trigger, but at the same moment Connor pulled his other arm up to pull the arm with the gun down and the shot landed on the floor.

Hank opened his narrowed eyes and saw Connor drop the gun, standing hunched over and breathing heavily, even if the android didn't have to.

"Hey Connor.  Look at me." Hank said after a brief hesitation. Connor followed his request at a snail's pace. Hank recognized the fear behind it and he knew immediately that it was his Connor who was looking at him. His friend, who was not himself for a few minutes.

Connor was still clutching the wrist that held the gun. The lieutenant walked towards the android and put a hand on Connor's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Hank... I didn't... I didn't mean to..." the android stammered quietly. Hank pulled the boy into a hug, which was immediately returned and they both stood like that for a while until Connor's stress level dropped and his breathing and the beating of his thirium pump slowed down.

Connor pulled back again and shied away from the question that was clearly written on Hank's face. Hank wanted to know what had just happened.

"Let's go back inside, shall we?" Hank asked instead. Connor frowned in confusion, but nodded and went ahead to take the elevator down. Not just down to the floor where the other body was, but all the way to the bottom, to the exit of the building.

"But I thought..." he wanted to protest.

"Sumo suddenly felt really bad and I think he threw up his food, that really needs to be checked out, doesn't it?" Hank winked once as he said that and they both walked towards the car to drive back home and most likely watch the game.

Sumo was asleep next to Connor on the couch while Connor drunk Thirium and Hank in the armchair complained about the players' moves.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

Oh.

You're dead...

Again.

Fuck.

Dying sucks, even if your deaths don't really 'stick' for long.

Mainly it's a traumatic situation for the people who love you to see you die, even briefly. Then there's the mess, the cleanup, medical attention if your death-wound doesn't fix itself properly and then all the other injuries you got along the way to your death that DON'T heal on their own because they're not fatal.

Fuck.

It's gonna be a rough week.

You sit up and quietly stare at the Grim Reaper sitting across the way from you, reading a book about self improvement.

This Reaper is named Theo and you've known him basically all your life. I mean, how couldn't you? He's YOUR death, he's the Reaper tasked with taking your soul when you finally give up the ghost for good.

It's rare that people get to meet their deaths before actually dying, but you're a necromancer who's died and almost died a whole lot so it makes sense that you're so well acquainted with Theo. He looks at you over the rims of his huge circular glasses and smiles a shark toothed smile that reminds you of Something Red.

"Long time no see kid, how are things?" He tilts his head, fluffy hair blowing in the warm breeze that always lingers in the Hereafter. "Probably not good if we're having this conversation, welp... what go you this time?"

"...stabbing." you sign wryly. You're not fully dead yet, so you can't speak in the Hereafter, but that's fine you have your loopholes.

Theo winces dramatically, snapping his book shut and setting it beside him on the soft grass. "Oof, it's always stabbings with you isn't it? Or gunshots."

"Well no, there was that one time with the chainsaw." You grin

"Speaking of! How is she?" Theo leans forward excitedly. "She's from a completely different branch y'know so it's not like we get to hang out."

"Grounded... for now." Another smile, softer this time.

Theo nods in understanding. "She's gonna flip shit when she finds out what happened."

You make a face. "Everybody will."

"...she doesn't like me very much I think... she wants to be Your Death in some silly romantic sort of way and I'm just in the way of all that." Theo shrugs and you shrug back.

"I'd rather you than her, I mean I've known you longer, and I feel like she'd try to keep me or something... which is cute but also No."

Theo chuckles, hauling himself to his feet. "Well then I guess we better get you back to her, before she comes looking for you and I end up minus more limbs." Theo draws his hand across thin air and summons his Death Scythe, a magnificent bestial sawtoothed thing.

You stand too, give Theo a hug, and watch him split the world apart at your feet with his scythe. He waves farewell as you fall down

down

down

and away.

[lyon-amore]

Mr and Mrs Liars Chapter 28

Chapter 27 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   *MC POV*  I feel like I can breathe better, although my chest still hurts from breathing in so much smoke. Phil, Jessy, Dan and Cleo join me in the room. From what I know, Jake's old team called Phil and he told the group so I wouldn't feel alone. He left me with them while he went to talk to the doctor about my situation. Luckily I had no serious injuries, I just needed to recover and clear the air from my lungs.     “You're going to beat my hospital record.” Dan laughs, trying to cheer me up.     "Don't make me laugh, my chest still hurts." I avoid laughing, but little laughs escape me. “Ugh… I have a headache from all the stress…”     "Do you want me to call the doctor to see if he can give you something?" Cleo asks me, worried.     "No, I'm fine." I keep my head from bobbing around the tubes too much when I look at Jessy. "Do you know how Jake and Charlotte are doing?"     "From what I know, the police were watching Charlotte's room, as was Mr. Schneider," she replies a little sadly “she's still in a coma and Jake…"     "Jake what, Jessy? Please tell me he's okay!" I start to get nervous at the thought that he died, I don't know how serious the shot he received was.     "Luckily the gunshot wound wasn't serious, so he only has stitches" Jessy gives me a small, friendly smile ", he's also on oxygen, but he'll recover. Right now he was with his family and with Thomas. "     "Thank God…" I put a hand to my head, trying to relax.      I'm relieved he’s not alone. So his family… That means his father is in the hospital. I'm sure he has a lot of questions about what happened.     "I never should have brought him into this... "     “He decided to jump in, boo” Dan carefully pats my shoulder “and let's face it, that guy's got some shit on for a cop.     "A cop who's a criminal." Cleo corrects him.     "And with years of experience, he could have killed him."     "Luckily it didn't," Jessy sighs. "I still can't believe that all of this happened to Aleena… It's so sad…"     "But don't forget that she was going to kill MC." Dan crosses his arms, annoyed. "One thing is her to take down on those two cops, but MC didn't do anything to deserve it."     "Yes, that's right." Jessy looks at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry MC, I guess, I can't help but think that those two men did terrible things to her, I still don't know why to take revenge on your father through you."     "Because it's not okay," I answered, being a bit harsh, "I can understand that, but I was never a threat to her."     "Well, the police will take care of her anyway." Cleo sits down on the couch, and the rest of her follow suit. Looks like they're going to stay a while longer to keep me company. That relieves me, I don't feel like being alone. "She will surely accept all the blame, the problem is Manfred, he will want to deny everything saying that it is manipulation."     "But Jake isn't going to let him," I squeeze the covers tightly "he has all the evidence and I can finally talk about everything we investigated. We won't let anyone get away with it."       At least I’m thankful that this is over. I can forget about this case forever.     <<We did it dad, I hope you feel proud of me. >> My phone rings and Jessy hands it to me. I'm surprised to see the name.I take a breath, a little nervous. He must have found out on the news. I must have worried him, perhaps.     "Long time no talk to you." I answer the call with a small smile, a little awkward. *Jake POV*  I woken up in the hospital room, with Hannah, Thomas, Nathan, and his wife. Never before have I seen so many people occupying the same space for me, to know if I'm okay.     "And MC?" It's the first thing I ask when I wake up, worried about her. "Where is she? Is she okay?" I get up so fast I get dizzy.      "Calm down, Jake," Nathan stops me, careful not to hurt me "your friend is fine, you've done a great job helping her, I'm proud of you."      A strange feeling runs through my body hearing those words. I want to hide my happiness that this man, who is my father, is proud of me. But I smile hearing that MC is fine. I can't help but do it. I dropped my head back on the pillow, relieved.     “So…” Thomas begins to speak, “you've confronted a policeman.”     “Old ways never go away.” I commented, forgetting that Hannah and Lilly's parents are in the room.     " 'The old ways'?" Mrs. Donfort asks curiously. I don't blame her.     “Mom, Dad, we'll tell you about it another time,” Hannah says, brushing my hair back lovingly, like a mother “we better let him rest for now.”      The door opens and Lilly walks in, her eyes worried.     “There's a woman here asking about Jake,” she says nervously. ”Oh, he's already awake.”     "A woman?" I ask curiously.     "Are you ever going to be still, Jake?" Mathilde walks into the room, arms folded.      She has invited herself in, furious footsteps. I don't think a scolding from my boss now is the best time.     "And you are?" Mr. Donfort looks at her somewhat confused.     “I'm this man's boss,” she waves at me furiously, “and you could say a mother figure.”     "Don't make me laugh," I replied, with a laugh. What I had to hear as soon as I woke up from almost suffocating to death.      Mathilde surprises me by hugging me. I don't think she's ever hugged someone so hard before. She quickly pulls away, pulling herself together.     "Good," she coughs as she straightens her jacket and hair. "First of all, what you have been doing has been without permission, you cannot carry out investigations illegally."     "But I'd do it again for her." I replied, giving her a hard look.     "I know, and that's what bothers me the most."      They all look at Mathilde, quite concerned.Well, my job at the CIA is over, they will surely hand me over to the police or worse: to the FBI. I'm sure they're rubbing their hands that I finally let them stop me.     “And second of all,” she sighs heavily, though pride is evident in her voice “I've assigned you to a research investigations. It's better than security. "     "What?" confused blink, I am sure the oxygen tank isn't working right?     "What you have done has been illegal, yes" she joins her hands placing them in front of her, she looks like a teacher scolding a student now ", but, you have managed to catch an abusive policeman and a murderous politician thanks to your investigations, I would be stupid if I didn't give you a position in which you collaborate with our best agents."      Everyone starts congratulating me. I don't feel honored in this position, it's all been thanks to MC, she's the one who deserves all the credit, I've only helped her.     "I don't think that-"     "Jake Miller," Mathilde cuts me off "if you're going to name that girl, please leave it." I'm surprised that she guessed what I was thinking. "I know you well. But she doesn't work with us, I can't give her that position. "     "Yes, I can't deny that..."     "So…" she looks at everyone present and offers her hand "Have a nice day everyone."     “Yeah, sure,” Nathan is the first to accept her hand “and thank you so much for taking care of my son all these years."      Mathilde looks at me and smiles.     “He may be a little rebellious about doing things his way,” she says with a sigh “but he's always done it for the good of the people."      Mathilde's words make me feel important. I can't wait to tell MC about it. I can’t wait to see her. When I am finally alone, I ask someone from nursing if I can get up to go see MC. After checking my vital signs, they decide that I can get up without any problem, but that I should come back as soon as possible if I feel dizzy, since I could still be affected by the smoke. I arrive at MC's door just at the same time as Phil. His look says it all, it's like the first meeting.     "Hey..." he nods in greeting "how are you?"     "Better," I answer and looked at the door "I was going to talk to MC-"     "No," I look at him when I hear that not so fast "I'm not going to let you see her."     "I think you shouldn't decide for her, don't you?"      He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose.     "Look, I don't want to fight with you right now," he answers, while he crosses his arms. "MC wouldn't be like this if you hadn't brought her into this."     "I just helped her."     "Yes, and look where she is now," he points to the room, furious, "whenever it's about you, she ends up in a dangerous situation: accusation of kidnapping, threats, that your own persecutors try to hack her, that a kidnapper wanted to lure her to possible death. Ever since you brought her into your life, she's had nothing but problems."     "Well, it's thanks to me that you've met her." I assert myself, clenching my fists tightly.     "And I appreciate it, but look at the one your crazy girlfriend has messed up." He places a finger on my chest, beginning to pinching me. "I want you to get away from her, to stop putting her in danger, because then, I don't think I'll be able to control myself and it might be more than a punch that I throws at you. "     "Are you threatening me?"     "It's not a threat, it's a warning." He places his hand on the doorknob, his eyes glare at me. "I don't want the next time she's with you to be killed for real."      He enters the room and I stay in the corridor thinking about his words.  Maybe... Maybe he's right and I'm the cause of him always being in danger. Maybe it's because I'm used to living that way. She does not. MC is not someone who should be put into these risks, I should have been more careful with her so that nothing bad happened to her. I was hoping to get back together with her, but if something dangerous is always going to happen every time we're together, then I'll take this bad luck away from her. She deserves to have a normal life. *MC POV*  Every time I look in the mirror, I remember all the things that have happened. This past month has been such a roller coaster of emotions that I absolutely can't shake myself off. I no longer feel that my home is my home. It's like I feel empty.Phil takes good care of me, I can't deny that, he cares about me after I get out of the hospital much more than when I got shot. The situation this time worried him more than before and I cannot deny that.  I've been trying to contact Jake, but he's not responding to my messages. I send him the last message and what I see on the screen surprises me. He has blocked me, why has he done it? What has happened? I thought that we were fine after what happened in that building, that we had to talk. I can't hear my friends conversation, I'm just lost in my thoughts. I miss Jake and haven't told Phil the truth yet, because I wanted to make sure Jake and I could talk about it together first.     "MC?" Hearing Hannah's voice, I wake up from my thoughts "are you okay? "     "Yes, I'm fine" I smile, trying to calm the atmosphere ", sorry, with everything that's happened I'm a little distracted. "     "Are you sure that's it?" Thomas asks me now "I don't know, we've all noticed that you're not well."     "If you need to talk about it, you know you can." Cleo tells me now, putting a hand on my shoulder.     "We're with you if you need it." Lilly smiles at me, taking my hands.      It's still amazing how she's changed everything between us, she's truly like a little sister to me. The one who is quiet is Jessy, who seems to be in the same state as me. She seems to want to say something, though she shuts up. I wish she did, I'm sure she knows something. I've seen this attitude before.     "Thank you all, but I'm fine," I answered, taking a sip of my coffee "I just have to go back to my normal life after being interrogated day and night." I give them a tired sigh. I haven't even been able to work because of that, but more than one already wants to interview me to get information. On the way home, I get a call from Dan.     "Yes, Jack Daniels?" I greeted him with a smile. A pity he couldn't come with us because of work.     "Hey little detective," he greets me affectionately "I hope you're not busy, but talking to Jessy on the phone now, she wants the three of us to meet up."     "The three of us? Something has happened?"     "You want the bad news over the phone?"     "To be honest, no, that never works out."      I hear Dan's laugh. Surely he has remembered the past.     "Then we'll meet at Jessy's house and… Don't be mad at her, it's my fault too."     "Are you going to tell me that you two are dating?"     "I wish," he makes an exaggerated snort. "See you there. Bye."     "See you later, Dan."      I don't know why, but it gives me a very strange feeling... Jessy's house was always a cozy house. I had slept a few nights there before I started dating Phil, it was so much better than staying in a motel with so many memories. Jessy and Dan are sitting across from me. I'm just trying to figure out what they're hiding by looking at them. I quit right away because I'm too tired to do it, I deserve a break.     "Well, what's going on?" I ask with a laugh "Are you sure it's not that you've started dating?"      Jessy and Dan look at each other, but from their looks it seems something more serious.     “It's about a conversation we overheard at the hospital, when we went to get coffee,” Dan begins, as if not to make it more difficult for Jessy "It's about Jake and Phil."      When I hear Jake's name, my alarm goes off. I worry that they have quarreled again.     "When we got back, we eavesdropped on the conversation," Jessy answers, with a sad voice, "I know it's wrong, but..."     “It's okay, Jessy,” I reply, my voice calm “you can tell me."      Jessy takes a breath, and tries to calm down.     “We heard Phil tell him to stay away from you."     "What?"     “Apparently our bar owner thinks everything that happened is Jake's fault,” Dan continues. "He has forbidden him to see you, which implies that they are not friends at all. Zero contact. Negative."     "Yes, Dan, she's got it perfectly." Jessy looks at him somewhat annoyed with her words, but he doesn't offend me. "I didn't think Phil would be one of those, I mean, he's not jealous, we've all seen that, but he even threatened to beat him up. "     “Not in those exact words, but almost.” Dan corrects.     "MC, these days you've been very strange and... Now I understand" my friend looks at me almost about to cry. The one who should cry is me, not her "I'm sorry I pushed you so much with Phil and your wedding, when in reality I've seen that you're not the same if you're not with Jake. I miss my happy friend, the one who always smiled because she knew she was complete with him."     "Oh Jessy…" I start to cry and hug her. Her words encourage me a lot. She was always saying that when I married Phil, we'd be like sisters, but actually I don't have to marry her brother to be sister. "I love you so much sister," I say with a smile "thank you so much for telling me."     "Oh, what the hell?" Dan says before giving us a big hug.      We laugh at the situation and we both give Dan a kiss on the cheeks. Our great protector. When we part ways, I manage to calm down a bit.     "Time to talk to Phil," I replied, looking at my ring. "I can't keep fooling myself like this."     "You can stay here to sleep later," Jessy proposes "at least while you move, I doubt you'll stay living in that house."     “And if you need help with the boxes, let me know.” Dan makes a forceful gesture and I laugh.     "Sure, thanks guys."      I say goodbye to both of them and leave the house, straight to Bar Aurora. It's time to end this. When I walk in, I find Phil clearing the tables. Seeing me, he smiles.     "Hello Princess." he puts down the cloth and approaches me to kiss me.      I turn my face away and see how he is surprised. I look at him quite annoyed.     "What happen? Is everything alright?      I swallow, trying to control myself. I don't want to have to yell at him.     "Did you tell Jake to stay away from me?"     "Come on MC, what are you asking-"     "Did you tell him or not?"      Phil lets out a big sigh, putting his arms on his hips.He doesn't dare look at me because he knows I would guess.     "You had no right to tell him that."     "Because of him you are always suffering" he counterattacks me "Look what has happened to you! Whenever he's around, bad things happen to you."     "My God, is that your excuse?" I reproach him, trying to make him look at me "Is Jake a guy who can put me in danger?"     "It's been like that since he came into your life."     "And what if that's it?!" I can't control myself, I need to scream "You can't decide for us if we see each other or not! You know perfectly well that you have no right to do so!"     "I have the right to do it because I'm your fiance!"      I stare at him, surprised. It was like feeling in a little box at that moment. And I wasn't going to let that happen.     "MC, I'm sorry." He grabs my hands realizing his mistake, but I push them away. "I did not mean that."     "But you said it." I bite the inside of my cheek, controlling myself. "You have never been jealous with anyone. Never." I shake my head, confused. "Jake arrives and everything seems to be wrong."     "Because everything would go wrong with him." He places his hands on my cheeks, caressing them. "MC, you have already seen that with me you can have a normal life, friends, family… You would be safe, you wouldn’t have to be in danger all the time."      I keep looking at him. Yes, it is true that several things happen around Jake, it is always like that...     "I know..." I answer with a little sadness "You're right... With Jake things are always difficult..." I look down, somewhat disappointed.     "Then let's not fight, okay?" He smiles sweetly at me, making me look at his face. "What do you say we have dinner at the Black Swan to fix it?" We deserve a good time alone."      I look at his eyes and then at the ring. I start thinking about his words. This is the moment of decision. And I already have it very clear. *Jake POV*  It had been a stressful month. I had to declare everything that had happened, along with the support of Mathilde and Malcolm, doing everything possible to avoid being arrested for getting into a computer belonging to a police chief who, no matter how much he committed a crime, I too had committed another: I did not have judicial permission to do so.  Luckily, my new position had saved me and Mathilde had lied to say that it was something ordered by the CIA. I already owe too much to that woman.  I haven't been to Duskwood for a month either, letting my family come into town to see me. They found out about everything and well… At first it was a bit tense, but when they found out that I was the one who put all those criminals in jail, the tension lessened a bit. Although I have promised not to do it illegally again this time.  I have also decided to lose all contact with MC. And this time forever.  I watch the sunset on the roof. I can't be on that apartment so quiet. It's too much for just one. At first I thought it would be perfect for MC and me. Now I just want to move from here to a smaller one. That way I wouldn't lose Gizmo everywhere.I take MC's mother's wedding ring out of my pants pocket. I was never able to gove it back. I'll have to give it to my sisters so they can give her back too. I hear Gizmo meow desperately. I have brought him up with me so that he can get some fresh air.     "What's up boy?" I ask, turning to him.      When I turn around, I see MC in front of me. She raises a hand in greeting, shyly.     "I think I'm the cause," she answers, with a small voice. "Hello."      I pocket the ring, nervous.     "Hello," I replied, scratching the back of my neck. "A lot of time has passed…"     "Yeah..."      She doesn't come closer, she keeps her distance. This is getting a bit awkward.     "I had gone to your apartment, but you didn't answer," she says, pointing to the door to the roof. "So I figured you'd be here."     "I could have gone."     "Yes, I know."      She gets a little closer.I look at her from top to bottom. It seems different.That's when I see that she doesn't have the engagement ring.     "Everything okay with Phil?" I ask curious.     "You mean the ring?" She asks me now, looking at her hand "He… We've broke up… Well, I've broke up with him."     "And what are you doing here?"     "I was going to go to Lian's and her husband's house so they would let me live with them for a while until I found an apartment."     "Aren't you staying in Duskwood?"     "No, I think I'll avoid it for a while." She comes up next to me, leaning against the ledge. "Too much tension."     "I see."      We stayed in silence looking at the city. The lights begin to set and the sky to darken. I dedicate myself to observe her side face. Her smile doesn't fade. I reached into my pocket, pulling out her mother's ring. I look at it for a few seconds before handing it to her.     "Here," MC looks at me and then at the ring, picking it up carefully. "I picked it up when we went to the warehouse.”     "Thank you," she looks at it, turning it over, and puts it on, looking at her hand to see how it fits her "you know? Canceling a wedding costs the same as making one.” She lets out a long breath, ending up resting her head on my shoulder. "My advice is never get married."     "Or maybe not getting to marry the wrong person. Oh!" She pinches my arm and I laugh at her. "You know I'm right.”     "Maybe yes…"      Finally the silence stops being uncomfortable. The heat that MC emanates begins to cover my entire body. It's nice to have her here with me. I didn't expect to see her again.     "Why don't you spend the night here?" I suggest and she looks at me "You still have your room and… I haven't moved the clothes from the closet, tomorrow you can go to your friend's house."     "Yeah, okay, I can stay tonight."     "Great..."     <<Come on Jake… Tell her. >>     "MC-"     "Jake-"   We remain silent, looking at each other.I took the hand where the ring was and traced the route with my finger. It fits her perfectly, almost like it was made for her too.   "I don't just want you to stay tonight," I finally dare to say it, looking into her eyes. The city lights are reflected in them "I want you to stay forever."    "Jake-"     "MC, I love you" I caress her cheek and she leans on my hand, tilting her head, smiling "and the thought that I could lose you that night made my life stop. I don't want to know what life is like without you, it's not in my plans."     "And what are your plans?"     "Continue where we left off."     "Mmm... No." I look at her surprised at my refusal and she laughs. "We don't have to continue something that was never left."     "I think that it was left and a lot."     "No-"     "You were going to get married"     "Well, it's a little pause-"     "A big one-"     "Just kiss me."      I accept her request and kiss her. MC puts her arms around my neck, trying to catch up with me. Her lips fit perfectly with mine, as if they had always been mine. I move my hand up her back until I place it behind her neck, deeper into her kiss. I missed kissing her. I had been wanting to do it since we met again. It's slow, causing me to start to get hot. As we pull apart, I hear her let out a moan. In her eyes I could see that she still wanted more. I missed that look of hers. She is perfect.     “I love you Jake,” she says, between each breath. ”I have always loved you.”     "I know." she lets out a laugh and buries her face in my body "Shall we go inside?"     “Sure.”      I take her hand and signal to Gizmo to leave. He follows us starting to meow.     "Know what Jake?" I notice her playful voice, happy.     ”What's the matter?”     "I don't think I'm going to need my room tonight...”     "I don't think so either." That night was the longest night of our lives. It was the night that we made up for all the lost time and in which I recovered the reason why I believed in being happy again. We became one again. Epilogue

[starswallowingsea]

oops 11pm typing up a review for What Lies in the Woods by Kate Alice Marshall

I got this as my book of the month back in January and after reading the first chapter, kinda put it off because it felt too much like the Slenderman Stabbing case which is a bit too close to home. Picked it up again recently after my wifi went out again and I needed something to read and ended up enjoying it (although my gut feeling was kinda proven right at the end unfortunately). 4/5 stars, full review under the cut, spoilers ahead.

So first things first, this is supposed to be an adult thriller, but it very much reads like YA which doesn't bother me that much but it does for other people so just a heads up on that.

Now to the meat and potatoes. This book follows Naomi Shaw, a mid-30s woman from a middle of nowhere town in Washington state who survived a stabbing attempt when she was 11 while her two best friends watched on. It left her permanently scarred and brought the three of them closer together during the recovery process.

Our story begins when the person they accused of being the one who stabbed them and also of being a serial killer with at least 6 other victims dies in prison from cancer. Naomi gets a call and returns to her hometown for the first time in years and meets up with her two friends who survived the attack with her and one of them says she's tired of hiding their secret.

Oh yeah. When they were 11, they found a skeleton in the woods and began worshiping her as a goddess based on this bead bracelet on her wrist that read Persephone. They had 7 rituals to complete to show their dedication to the goddesses of varying degrees of severity, up to and including self mutilation. Typical 11yo things.

It's not too long after this that the friend who wants to tell their secret winds up dead in the same woods with a gunshot to the head, ruled a suicide despite no weapon being found at the scene and a lack of gun powder on her hands that would indicate self infliction of the wound.

At this point, Naomi suspects there's something going on and decides to look into it more with the help of this podcaster that's been snooping around about the case. There's a lot that begins to happen around this time in the book that gets everything going and makes it a much easier and quick read.

I will say that a lot of the ensemble cast, even the best friends of Naomi, weren't always super well defined but we do have an unreliable narrator in the first person so her biases color a lot of things with regards to the Mayor's family especially. The pieces come together pretty quickly too once you start unraveling the threads of the story and I personally wasn't really gotten by any of the twists all that much. They made logical sense when they were revealed regardless of if I had predicted them or not.

Is it the best thriller out there? No. Is it a good read for the end of summer? I think so. I've been in kind of a reading slump and needed a quick easy read like this to help pull me out and it was still pretty enjoyable. Though I'm still not sure how I feel about any potential parallels with real world cases (again, the slenderman stabbing seems awfully close to what happened here, just without the false accusation of another person as the attacker).

[theteasetwrites]

I just finished watching twd’s final episode (ya i know im so late) aaand I totally agree with you. That episode was so rushed, everything happened so fast. As expected it was a total chaos.

I literally cried when Rosita died, I really wish it was Judith or RJ just to give Michone something to be guilty abt. Yaa I’m not a fan of Michonne and her leaving the kids to find Rick.

I loved the scene between Daryl and Carol in the end, it just showed how platonic their love for each other and nothing more people!

The explosion? UGHH.

The dinner after the explosion? Major cringe and very confusing, I mean not like they celebrated after the war with the Saviors? It just didn’t make sense.

And oh Maggie, my dearest. She deserves peace and happiness but I get her, if I were her I would’ve killed Annie so atleast we’re even.

Kinda disappointed. After 11 seasons we deserved a better ending. But hey, I am excited that Rick Grimes is back.

And yes, Daryl deserves a happy ending too. And thank goodness we have you to give him that! <3

Yeah it was very rushed, messy, lazy, and insulting. I mean it could've been a lot worse, but it could've been so much better if they had actually taken the time to make a good, well thought out last season instead of throwing in so many useless storylines. I mean the whole Reaper arc should've been thrown out. They could've used that time to delve into the Commonwealth stuff earlier. Also when they spent that whole episode in 11b focusing on Eugene trying to solve that mystery with Hornsby and Stephanie and all that shit... so ridiculous just give me 45 minutes of Daryl showering and I'll be happy

Anyway, Rosita dying was horrendously sad. I mean it was a beautiful death that was at least peaceful which is what she deserves, but it was still so sad. At least she died in the very last episode instead of in the middle of the series, so we got as much Rosita content as we could get.

I WISH JUDITH HAD DIED TOO HAHA. No fr what was the point of Judith getting shot if she wasn't going to die? Just to fuck with us? And to waste time? Seriously her getting shot was such a waste of time, it's insulting. She should've died and then it would at least have some payoff. But noooo they just had to do that stupid Carl/Rick parallel with Judith and Daryl. I rolled my eyes so hard man. It was just so lazy and they thought they were being so clever like ok get over urself besties

And you're so right, Michonne should feel guilty for leaving her kids! I mean tbh if Judith and RJ were my kids I'd probably abandon them too (not really lol) but yeah.

The Carol and Daryl scene was also pointless imo. I mean I guess it was cool if you like their friendship but I don't even think their friendship is that fun to watch lol so yeah. The "I love you" was definitely platonic but it read as more caryl baiting for the carylers.

That explosion was so ridiculous. How did they pull that off in a matter of a few hours? I was baffled. It was so weird and unrealistic lol. I mean I realize I am asking for realism in a show about zombies, but at some point realism is required for the show to make sense within the context, you know?

Everything was just way too convenient in that last episode. The explosion, Daryl just so happening to have the universal donor blood type (yeah fucking right), Judith surviving that gunshot wound, barely anyone in the main cast dying, everyone celebrating after destroying half the city and a ton of Commonwealth civilians dying... SUPER WEIRD.

Yeah the dinner was so cringey I'm sorry. It just felt so unearned and wrong. I mean they just faced a tragedy. Luke died hours ago and his group went from sobbing uncontrollably to laughing as they clink glasses at the dinner table like EXCUSE ME lmao. And once again, that huge explosion must've been super devastating to the structure of the city. How can the group be celebrating at a time like this? Also don't get me started on how EXHAUSTED they would've been after all of that, and yet they made a five course Thanksgiving meal in less than 24 hours after a really bad walker invasion??? And I know for a fact it was less than 24 hours later because Rosita was still alive and you can't live more than 24 hours with that fever from the bite. So stupid I'm sorry guys I wanna like it but I just can't.

MAGGIE SHOULD DEFINITELY KILL ANNIE HAHAHAHHAHAHAH

I totally agree my friend. Sorry for ranting but you made some great points that got me thinking about how irrationally mad I am at the finale lol. I just think it could've been so much better. And then after the one year time jump, it was way too saccharine and didn't match the tone of the rest of the episode or the season. I think that they still could've given them that happy ending without it being so colorful and bright and everyone smiling super big and idk it was just way too perfect and utopian looking. They could've done a way more nuanced thing that didn't make me feel as uncomfortable as it did lol. It was almost uncanny how saccharine the ending was.

Daryl is going to get the happiest ending of anyone in the series by the time I'm done with him in my series. He is gonna grow old with his wife and kids. He will know peace <3

[reneebrxndxn]

Clinic

where Zack comes to pick up Meg and Renee orders him to rest @zackastor

Zack Astor

-he makes his way into the clinic, at least looking better after Vivy cleaned him up- Meg? -He calls out- I'm here to pick you up.

Renee Brandon

-Renee comes out from the back and quickly puts a finger to her lips- She just fell asleep. I think it's the first time she's slept in a few days.

Zack Astor

She doing okay?

Renee Brandon

-Renee nods- She's okay. I recleaned the wound and put a suture bandage on it. She had some snacks and I made an IV drip. It looks like she was on the malnourished side. She might be tired for a few days and I want her to come in every couple of days. She also has some minor burns on her hands but those will heal on their own. I've got some aloe to put on it if it gets too much for her. -she looks back before back at Zack- She asked for you and David. I think the two of you left quite an impression on her.

Zack Astor

-he listens without saying a word, just giving a quick nod- As soon as she wakes up I'm taking her home.

Renee Brandon

-she nods but she also looks over Zack as well- You look cleaned up but in the mean time, why don't I do an exam on you - y'know, just to make sure that you're not on the verge of puncturing a lung?

Zack Astor

-his eyes narrow slightly- Shouldn't you be busy with cleaning up David's heroic little gunshot wound?

Renee Brandon

Val went home with him to treat his wound. Meg is sleeping and you need medical attention as well. So sit.

Zack Astor

I already got medical attention. -he gives her a sharp look, but eventually sits down-

Renee Brandon

Oh yeah? What doctor? -she smiles victoriously inwardly as she sits across from him- Humor me and take off your shirt. Your face looks fine but the way you're holding yourself suggests your abdomen might have some issues.

Zack Astor

Vivienne. And my gut is fucking fine. -his eyes narrow at her, but he tugs off his shirt again; he is patched up, any cut stitched or otherwise bandaged-

Renee Brandon

-Renee doesn't let Zack's bitchiness get to her- I was unaware she was a doctor. -she notices the discoloration around his abdomen and she carefully puts her hand on it- Well, they're definitely broken but they're not out of place, so that's good. -she feels around while noticing the bandages- She did good work.

Zack Astor

-he holds perfectly still under the touch, gaze turned firmly towards the wall as she touches him- She knows what she's doing. -he responds gruffly; the nausea is starting to hit him again- As I said, I'm fine.

Renee Brandon

Mmmhmm, of course you are. That's why you're riddled with bruises and bandages. -she sits back and looks at his facial features- Here, follow my finger. -she holds up her finger and starts to move from side to side-

Zack Astor

I don't need your damn sarcasm. -he scoffs, but he tries following her finger, struggling with trailing it-

Renee Brandon

-Renee watches his eyes and sighs- Well, it looks like you have a concussion. Have you had any dizziness or nausea?

Zack Astor

Could've told you the same. -he grunts- Yes, have had that.

Renee Brandon

Alright, you need to lie down. You're waiting for Meg to wake up anyway and you need to give your head a rest. Too much movement and you'll start bleeding out your ears. No arguments.

Zack Astor

Not happening. -he grabs his shirt and tugs it back on- Too late for too much movement. I can rest at home.

Renee Brandon

-Renee sighs and shakes her head- I swear, you're worse than most of the raiders when they come in hurt.

Zack Astor

-he stays seated, eyeing her wearil-  I know what I can handle. I'm not gonna go fucking and jump around, Brandon.

Renee Brandon

Of course you do. But humor me. Meg is fast asleep and unless you'd rather I go wake her after what she's been through, you're going to be waiting a bit.

Zack Astor

-he stares at her for a moment, eyes narrowed before he relents and lies down- Fucking hell. -he mutters-

Renee Brandon

-Renee smirks in a smug victory as he finally lays back- I'll grab some snacks for you and let you know when she's awake and ready to go. You. Rest.

Zack Astor

-the smirk makes to want him get up again immediately- Jesus- I don't need snacks. I'm not a damn kid.

Renee Brandon

You were bleeding and there's no telling how much you lost. Not to mention you have a concussion so you need sustenance to help heal and replenish your body. -She grabs a bag of crackers, cookies and water to set next to him- In case you get dizzy.

Zack Astor

I didn't lose that much. -he crosses his arms; he doesn't feel like eating or drinking; both due to nausea and in general- Just let me know when Meg's ready.

Renee Brandon

-Renee shook her head as she headed back to Meg- I'll let you know.

Zack Astor

Good. -he gives her a quick glance- Make sure she's alright.

Renee Brandon

Of course. I'll take good care of her.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 327

Back and to the Future/Nikola Tesla’s Night if Terror

Did I mention there’s a mistake in my “final” calendar? I put the episode of dw I watched the other day on there twice 😎👍 luckily what that really means is I can skip watching one some time this weekend

“Back and to the Future”

Plot Description: Sam, Dean, and Castiel reluctantly team up with a demon inhabiting Jack’s body to battle an army of undead souls that includes some infamous killers

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: (not even started it yet and certainly not, right?) guess who was riiiiight

Cas making sure to bring Jack’s body with them to safety (even temporary safety) 😭😭😭

Vs Cas also pointing out that he wouldn’t starve to death if they stayed in this place forever

Dean’s so mad at Chuck and in such a funny way

So….not running water, just more zombies

Oh this is actually kind of fun, like when Misha gets to play evil versions of Cas

I’m not trusting that this demon was your basic pencil pusher. He just stopped the (not-)zombie horde that god himself put in our trio’s way

Yeah, MAYBE these girls are a little spoiled but that doesn’t mean this ghost has to go after them

We’re starting to see the aftermath of various ghosts who stayed true to form

This murder clown is decidedly not sexy (to me. Could be someone else’s yum, and I won’t yuck it)

How long ago was this demon last on earth??

Oh a big bag of salt and a human heart?? Is THAT all you need??

Of COURSE Sam had to go to the clown house, poor guy

I love that Rowena made Dean say please and use the descriptor “exquisite” when he first told her they needed her to move her ass

Omg we cannot be getting Michael back again (but this universe’s Michael who got———hey, what about Adam? I know we’re NEVER revisiting that plot thread but like…that’s so stupid)

And if COURSE the gunshot wound Sam has isn’t able to be healed by Cas AND he’ll hide it…

Hey, free, fresh human heart, I guess

Lizzie Borden’s here too??

Castiel sassing Sam shooting him with rock salt when he can’t help when a ghost decides it’s gonna vanish

Worst ghosts in a show ever. Why do they HAVE to run? The ghosts are running

Oh man. The bad tension between Cas and Dean continues

Thank you, Sam, from saving Dean even temporarily from a nihilistic spiral

This is unintentionally the funniest fucking show in the world. “If we win—when we win this, god’s gone” I love this stupid show so much, I can’t believe I’m in the last season

“Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror”

Plot Description: 1903. Who or what is sabotaging Nikola Tesla’s generator plant at Niagra Falls? And has this maverick inventor really received a message from Mars?

Ruh roh I’m not gonna make it before midnight. Can we blame Megumi?? And how cute she was being tonight?

Hey, did this one come out before or after Elon became obsessed with going to Mars? Because the Tesla-Mars connection seems too on the nose

Ok I can see why he believes he’s getting messages from space

Companions should get in period dress more often

These two ACTUAL geniuses in a room together and supporting each other and comforting each other, realizing they have so much in common

This dude in the cape is bad news. Wtf is happening with him??

Ok, since we’re in NYC…I’m just thinking, what if we could DO something that would have prevented what happened to Amy and Rory.

They do this to angels in spn to interrogate them, too…but these are no angels, that’s for sure. The makeup they used almost reminds me of the spider queen from the runaway bride

Voice too, actually

Graham telling off Thomas Edison is delightful

Oh but instead of spiders, it’s scorpions, and they can shoot lasers from their tails!

And what a crazy thing that they also steal tech from other places

Edison should not be allowed to be this close to the plan

Aw, she just wants a high five and he doesn’t know what that is because it hasn’t been invented yet?

The return of the goggles!! Yay!

It’s effective for getting people off the street and away from the scorpion aliens, but it also feels slanderous for Edison to be saying that shit about Tesla

Excuse me? The Doctor is typically about stopping but not killing…but kind of in the way Aang is, but…she seems pretty dead set on killing the queen. I’m not even sure how they managed to save earth this time

[whatimdoing-here]

Everyone's been in on the fun dreams I have. Last night I had a dream where I had trouble falling asleep lol. And then one where I was forced into watching my brother's friend's bird.* And I was mad at my little sister because she was going to Pittsburgh for the weekend but wouldn't tell us why.

[piccionethepigeon]

Helping hand part 2

Part 1:

Part 3

Simon Riley “Ghost” X fem! Medic! Reader

Summary: in the following days ghost is acting weird and when forced to go out for drinks with his teammates Ghost runs into you things get complicated

Warnings: I don’t know jack shiii about Cod I’m just horny for beefy masked men so he could be out of character and other things inaccurate, sexual content, injury and blood, pining, clueless reader, also probably bad writing and grammar as this is not even my first lenguage , size kink, obsessive! Ghosts, marking, belly bulge, lots of shit tbh, go away minors

You were pretty sure Ghost was avoiding you, he did buy you coffe as a thanks the next day but he almost threw it in your hands and with a quick “see ya” he was gone again, and whenever you ran into him while doing your duties around base he seemed to just…puff vaporize, he would not be in a room for more than 30 seconds with you and it was kind of upsetting.

He could not be angry about the pain you caused him while mending the gunshot, he had wounds way worse than that, ugh before that your relationship with Ghost could have been considered friendship, a thing he did not give freely, he talked to you more than most, never snapping at you and always being polite, with some jokes sometimes you could even make him snort and that was the closest he got to laughing, the only think he was quite uncomfortable with was touch, if you patted him on the arm or grazed his side with yours while passing in a corridor or something his whole posture demeanor would straighten and stiffed up and quickly put distance between you two…. But he seemed fine with occasiona pats on the back and playful hitting with Soap and Alejandro… even if with Soap it was often reciprocated with a punch, but that was more of a game between them than anything since Soap just smiled and punched him too.

Huh maybe he had trauma with women? Or just didn’t feel comfortable with you like that. Fuck maybe that was also the reason he was avoiding you, you touched him too much to medicate him and he was angry or upset, maybe he felt harassed .

Panic flooded you, did you harass the man?! You did maybe overdo it with the touching but that was the only thing that came to your mind to comfort him, and now you could have lost your friendship to him…. The thought gutted you.

After avoiding y/n for days Ghost would have been pretty content laying in bed all day sulking and jerking his cock till it bled but of course the others wanted to go out for drinks and just had to drag him with them.

Now he was in a crowded pub with a glass of bourbon in his hand with his skull balaclava on looking like a freak. But drinking bourbon with a straw was better than showing his face, lately it was harder for him to go out without his mask, in crowded areas more so, all fault of the PTSD and shit.

So there he was nursing a glass of bourbon with a straw watching Pierce and Alejandro cracking jokes and ordering drinks like they were free, Soap was flirting with a tall blonde girl. Ghost usually secretly loved the nights out with his team, they made him feel normal. But his mind was still buzzing with the images of y/n kneeling between his tights, and the shame that followed it, also the shame of avoiding you for days because he felt like a bastard for beating his cock at the thoughts of a woman doing her job, but it was not any woman...but y/n….and that somehow made it worse.

So he wasn’t really in the mood for jokes or watch Soap try to fuck some girl.

The Blonde got up and slapped the shit out of Soap for a comment on her tits, and it made Ghost chuckle, the same chuckle died in his throat when he saw someone walking to their table.

Out of all fucking people it could have been it was Y/n, in the tightest and shortest black dress he ever saw in his bloody fucking life, leaving nothing to the imagination, and she was waving cheerfully at them, fuck, he drank the last of his alcohol.

“Hi guys! Having a boys night out?” Why did y/n have to be so goddamn pretty and cheerful all the time.

Alejandro replied “yes bonita, want to join us for a drink?”

You looked unsure “uhm yeah why not, but only one tough, I’m waiting for a friend and she’s going to be here soon”

Ghost was relieved… relieved that you were dressed like a dream come true only fro a friendly outing and not a date, he was not the jealous type especially for a girl that was not his…. but the idea of you with another man made his hands itch.

But it was also not ideal that you were joining them and also that the only place in the boot with a free seat was next to him. You eyed him unsure and that made him gaze soften, he was acting like a dick avoiding you for something you didn’t do, he patted the seat next to him. “Come here”

You smiled happily at him and sat right down.

Having you around was sweet sweet torture, your scent, your soft voice laughing with everyone, your warmth that he could feel radiating from you as you brushed arms with him on accident, and if he looked down accidentally with you being shorter he could look right down your cleavage.

So he started drinking alcohol like water joining his friends hoping it would help numb and calm himself.

Of course it did not, it just made his desire harder to control.

Oh and his friends definitely knew.

Soap spoke to you “Y/n come on let’s go dance a bit, the music is fucking awesome and I’m a great dancer” but as he said that to you his eyes were on ghost the whole time, being met with a sharp gaze that screamed a warning.

You laughed and playfully smacked soap on the hand he offered you “I’ve seen girls falling for your charms but I’m not charmed so easily” Soap just laughed back and then full on smirked when Ghost extended his arm on the back of the boot caging your shoulder without touching you.

When you looked inquisitively he just shrugged, “starching” he muttered while finishing another glass, alcohol definitely made him bolder and making his restraint thinner than paper.

He knew so by watching the smirks on Pierce’s and Alejandro’s faces too. The only one clueless was y/n.

He was going mad, every time he shifted his good leg it brushed on yours making him suppress a shiver, and with all the alcohol flowing in his veins he even had trouble holding his head up. On top of that y/n phone flashed with a message: her friend was sick and could not make it, meaning he had to endure that for hours.

Ghost looked around, Soap was supposed to bring drinks but he was nowhere to be seen…fucking hell there he was: going out the door with a smile so big he looked like a child with candy…holding a dark skinned brunette by the hand. He was glad for his friend to get laid but that wanker was also his ride home, well not anymore.

“That fucking wanker” he slurred.

Pierce shot him a sympathetic look “he was your ride to the base wasn’t he? You can ask y/n to give you a ride her house is close to base”

You smiled “yeah sure it’s no problem”

Ghost was tense, but nodded, didn’t seem like he had much of a choice.

You were tense, still scared that Ghost was somehow upset with you, lost in tough you didn’t even notice the 6’2 man get on his feet, and trip over them to almost crash into you steading himself at the last second putting a hand in the table.

Alejandro laughed “Ghost you’re way drinker than I thought, I’m going to help y/n walk you to her car” it was almost amusing seeing such a powerful man usually so stealthy, quick and precise struggle to keep his balance while standing.

After saying your goodbyes to Price you were grateful for Alejandro’s help, him supporting ghosts right shoulder, you the left, since the man was probably more than double your weight so impossible to carry on your own, he seemed pretty unhappy to be escorted like that but didn’t complain if not with his eyes.

Alejandro made Ghost sit in the passenger’s seat of your car, and you fastened his seatbelt your cheeks heating at the closeness.

“We’ll drive save and tuck Ghost in hoping he doesn’t throw up in his mask, goodnight”

You replied “goodnight!” While Ghost just gave him the middle finger.

The drive to the base was silent and tense, once there you helped unfasten Ghosts seatbelt and tried to get him to get up witch was pretty challenging, thankfully once out he walked on his feet. “Uhm I’ll walk you to your room so I’m sure you don’t pass out in the corridors” he just glanced at you and nodded. “Are you able to clean and change the bandage to your wound in this state?” He sighed “no I’m not but I’ll be fine” “oh that’s bullshit I’ll help you, you risk getting an infection otherwise” you argued, Ghost just grunted not having any excuse, but he knew things were stepping into dangerous territory.

The walk to his barrack was fast and when he ulivi ed his door untori heart was pounding like crazy, an you felt silly, it was just to clean his would and make sure he was not feeling sick nothing alse.

He opened the door and let you in, his place was so much like him, few posters and personal items, tidy but not perfect, a king size bed with grey sheets and just one pillow. He sat on the bed just gazing at you with an unreadable look on his eyes.

“Uh take off your pants please, that way I can reach the wound” you wandered off in the bathroom to grab gauze and give him some privacy, even if eventually you had to see him in his underwear and that made your heart pound hard in your rib cage. You could admit to yourself you had kind of a crush on him… it was silly and you could not let it make him uncomfortable.

Eventually you had to get back and there he was sitting on the bed with his legs spread, his black boxers doing nothing to hide how uhm well endowed he was. Don’t stare at it, don’t stare at it, don’t stare at it. You walked over and got on your knees, Ghosts inhaled a sharp breath.

You felt guilty he was clearly uncomfortable, starting to clean the would you were carful to touch him only when necessary then spoke “Ghost… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I patched you up I really didn’t mean to, you just seem to be avoiding me” you looked up and his gaze was scorching and glued on you.

Ghost was still feeling bold from the alcohol and could not pretend anymore. “I was acting weird only because I could not stop imagining you on your knees for me, your pretty mouth on my cock” your face was burning “oh fuck off your drunk stop joking around” you squealed. He just cocked his head and just kept staring a you.

You finished changing the gauze and stood up abruptly just to find yourself still in between his legs and your tits almost to his face. “ Oh I- I have finished you can go to sleep now and I’ll leave you a-alone” “I’ll go to sleep only if you give me a kiss goodnight” his gaze was piercing, you wanted to so bad oh fuck but he was drunk he didn’t really want that… if it was over the mask it could not count right? Trembling you lowered your face and spliced your lips where his shoulder be under the mask they were so warm even under the fabric and the heat spread from your lips to your core.

“H-happy now?”

“That was a shit kiss, this is a real bloody kiss”

Before you could even comprehend the sentence a hand was on your eyes and a sound of fabric shifting before hot chapped lips smashed on yours, it was just a peck at fist but then his lips gently coaxed your mouth open and his tongue entered your mouth, it felt like e was devouring you the best way possible.

Fuck he was so good with his mouth that it made your head spin. Nonono this was wrong he was drunk he… felt so good fuck. A moan escaped your lips only making him kiss you with more fervor.

After a while his lips sadly left yours and you were pretty sure you were wet not only on your mouth.

He placed his mask back before removing his hand from your eyes. Then you felt Ghosts strong arms cage you while his heated eyes gazing straight into yours still. In less than a second he shifted and moved you like you weighted nothing, before realizing it you were on his bed under him, his huge body caging yours.

His hips flush to yours and you could feel it pressing on your core… it was hard and huge making you grind on him without meaning to and his hips bucked making you moan, his breath on your neck Ghost spoke “I want this, I want you so bad… so you want that?” His voice betrayed uncertainty.

You whimpered and nodded.

“I need you to say it? Please doll” he asked.

Your mouth was still full of his taste and you gulped. “ yes yes please, touch me Ghost”

He looked at you and something in his eyes snapped, he grabbed your dress and ripped it off you making you yelp.

“H-hey I liked that”

“I’ll buy you a new one” his voice was deeper than usual thick with his own arousal.

He discarded his shirt then making you stare in awe, he was so damn hot, he was muscled but beefier than models or people who trained for aesthetics but even more gorgeous, because those were muscles made for strength. Every scar he wore on his torso only bothered you because it was a visual reminder of all the pain he went thru.

Ghost was breathing hard “ you’re so fucking beautiful, fuck” his hands were all over your body caressing, squeezing, teasing, like he was trying to memorize the look and feel of your body.

Then out of nowhere he snapped your panties and bra off, one hand on your boobs groping them gently before giving attention to the nipples tweaking them gently between his fingers then with the other hand he began touching your folds smearing the slick “Fuck you’re so wet and soft, looking like a damn dream, and I bet you’ll feel like one too, can’t wait to have my col buried in you” the dirty talk made your face burn and your pussy clench “but I’ll have to prepare you well or this is going to hurt, I’m much bigger than you, and I want you only to feel good” you thoughts were barely coherent any only moans and his name could leave your lips “G-Ghost” your hips raising to get more friction on his fingers, he started to pet your clit and fuck he was also good at that making you moan shamelessly.

He then inserted one digit while touching your clit with his palm , then a second digit, then a third and the stretch was stinging but he moved his fingers gently and the palm on your clit was pleasurable. Meanwhile you palmed him though is underwear with one hand and the other on I’m his huge tattooed arm to keep yourself grounded. He moved his fingers faster and faster your cunt making squelching noises. “G-ghost gonna c-cum soon!” You slurred “not yet doll the first time you’ll come is going to be on my cock” he said in your ear and removed his fingers, the emptiness was unbearable for a few moments before he discarded his underwear letting you see him in all his glory, a deep v line ending a thick uncut cock that was now very hard and dripping.

The sight alone was overwhelming but existing, he grabbed it and started to rub it in your folds to slick it up then centered it to go in but stopped “i’m going in alright?” Is voice was hoarse.

“Yes yes please Simon”

He groaned “I love my name on your lips” then bottomed out in a single slow thrust.

It felt like too much and stung a bit but it was also so fucking good you could not stop mewling.

“Fuck that’s it you’re taking me so well, good girl”

His voice made you shiver and you looked down, he was stretching you to the limit and there was also a small bulge in your lower belly.

“Fuck Simon please move” and so he did slow at first to get you used to his size then harder and harder making you moan and sink your nails in his back, was groaning and occasionally swearing in your ear adding a lot to the pleasure together with the delicious friction of his pelvis on your clit every time he bottomed out, his top kissing your cervix.

“Simon i-I’m gonna cum gonna c-“ you moaned.

“Cum for me doll milk my cock” and so you did clenching and screaming his name.

But he kept on moving stretching your orgasm impossibly long turning it into overstimulation but even that was fucking delicious.

“Love I’m going to cum can I do it inside of you? Hell I want to so bad”

“Yes yes I’m on birth control please fill me up”

At that he lifted up his mask to kiss you passionately while he grunted and fucked his seed lmpossibly deep into you.

You were struggling to catch your breath and si did he after lifting his mask up again, but he was still hard inside of you.

“Doll are you up for another round?”

His soldier stamina would probably kill you but it would have been a glorious death.

“Yeah”

And he went again making you scream even louder.

After that you probably fell asleep because it was now morning, you were sore between your legs and a bit sticky even tough you were sure he cleaned you up with a towel before joining you in bed again.

His tattooed arm was draped over you squishing you a bit but it was comforting. It was the best night of your life but… what if he was only drunk and rejected you as soon as he woke up? That thought was crushing.

You didn’t even have time to think about that, work was in half an hour, I guess thankfully the barracks were so close to base.

With some struggling you slipped away from under a sleeping Ghost and took a shower, noticing in the mirror after that he left a huge hickey on your neck during the night. Uh that would be hard to hide.

With the dress ripped you had no choice but steal a shirt and hoodie to wear, and thankfully emergency leggings into your bag. The problem was the hoodie was clearly too big on you, meaning all base would know you hooked up, making all day a walk of shame, and his scent o the clothes would remind you all day of the previous night.

Slipping out the door you glanced at a Ghost once last time, what a dork he even slept with that mask, the feeling in your chest was more than a crush and you knew it.

Author note: I just wanted to to thank you all for liking the first part of the fic I never expected that many likes 💗 I never expected so many likes, that means y’all are probably mentally ill like me and spend your free time reading or writing about masked men’s dicks and I respect that, let me know if y’all wanna be tagged in part 3

(Also I know hitting the Cervix isn’t that fuck irl but it sound hot so let me be delusional)

Tags: @atlantic-sugar

[zbeez-outlet]

could i request an armin x reader where its like a hurt/comfort after what happened to sasha, but maybe mc got injured too? stray bullet maybe but she survives? and just armin having to deal with losing a friend and also almost losing his s/o

Red

Armin x Reader

Spoilers for Season 4 Below

Canon Universe

Established Relationship

Concept: see request above!

Summary: Sasha has collapsed at your feet, red pooling around her trembling body, shock startling the fading light in her eyes, and your chest hurts. Your heart is pulsing, disbelief clouding the ache you feel at watching your friend bleed out in front of you. It doesn't occur to you that the pain may be something else, that you'd been standing right behind her, that there was an exit wound leaking red onto the floor, but no other indication of where the bullet has gone. None of that occurs to you, not until you meet Armin's devastated stare.

Warnings: angst, description of injuries, blood, canonical character death, dissociation, panic (If I missed anything, please let me know)

A/N: Sorry this one took so long! I still have a list of requests to get to (mostly Levi), but I loved working with Armin for the first time. If you're interested in making a request, check out my submission guidelines for more info!

Losing comrades is hardly a foreign concept at this point in your career. Now with years of experience in the Survey Corps, you've watched the untimely ends of dozens of friends and fighters in this war. Devastating and violent deaths that haunt you at night and leak into the corners of an idle mind on slower days when you're left to think. You're disturbingly used to picking up the severed limbs of your fellow soldiers, to the heartbreaking cries of a widow or tragedy stricken parents or an orphaned child, to the empty caskets at funerals. Pools of blood hardly require a second glance anymore.

But this...this is different. Wrong and impossible in a way those other losses hadn't been.

Sasha is at your feet. Kind, smiling, always craving a snack Sasha with her wild hair and wilder attitude, is spilling red across your boots.

Nothing makes sense. She'd been standing, just a second ago, she'd been standing right in front of you, grinning and asking about dinner. There'd been a commotion at the back of the airship, a loud popping sound you know was a gunshot, and then your world fell apart.

Death by bullet is a strange concept to you. Something so small, so opposite of the larger than life cannibals you're used to, ripping through the plush of Sasha's abdomen and exploding in a mist of red out her back. Agony erupts between your ribs at the sight, lungs filling with anguish. You don't quite understand bullets, without motives or morals or orders to follow, just tiny metal beads at the mercy of their maker.

There's screaming all around you, and in some far off corner of your mind you register the battalion of soldiers stomping on the child that pulled the trigger. You can't bring yourself to look away from the blood speckling your hands, just as sticky and wet and warm on your cheeks like tears. Jean and Connie are screaming too, calling for bandages, putting pressure on the bubbling wound you know is spilling far too much red to be any kind of okay. Your chest aches as you look down at Sasha, your friend for nearly a decade now, your sister in every way that counts. Heart stuttering in your chest, you think you might be choking on a sob or an apology or your own lungs, and there's metal stinging on your tongue. All you can do is stand there and watch as your brothers in arms try to save one of the only people that can still make you laugh on even your hardest days.

You're only vaguely aware of Jean's panicked sprint down the airship behind you after the medic replaces his hands with her own, Connie's whimpering pleas falling on nearly deaf ears. It's like water is rushing behind your eyes, drowning any thoughts beyond the echoing sound of Sasha's body thudding against the ground.

There's a burning sensation in your chest, as if your grief has already settled camp behind your ribs and all you can do is grasp at your sides with sticky red hands in some vein attempt at holding yourself together. You drop to your knees when Connie's pleas stop, when the medic's compressing hands stop, when Sasha's breathing stops. Your ears are ringing, knees aching, and there's a scream lodged in the recesses of your throat, eyes locked on the puddle of red still growing even though Sasha's already dead...

Dead. She's dead.

Connie trundles passed your frozen kneeling form, shoulders hunched and tears flowing, following the same path as Jean towards the front of the airship to tell the others. To tell Commander Hange they've just lost their best sniper. To tell Captain Levi he's lost another member of his squad. To tell Eren that his little disappearing act cost them all more than it should have.

To tell Jean and Mikasa and Armin they lost another friend.

Armin. Walls, you need him next to you. His fingers tracing your cheek, his whispers assuring you everything will be okay even though you know it never will be again. His too blue eyes swimming with love and grief and hope you don't remember how to feel. Air is suddenly too thick, clogging the path to your singed lungs like oil.

You flinch when Mikasa slides to the floor in front of you, sobs and denial spilling from her lips as she grips Sasha's far too still shoulders, shaking her as if she's simply stuck in a dream. You've never seen Mikasa like this, rippled with loss and anguish, but all you can think about is the red soaking into her knees. Part of you wants to reach out to her, to console the desolation in her eyes and the shaking in her hands, but the idea of moving feels like you'll risk spilling what composure you still have in your chest across the floor.

There are hands grasping your shoulders. You feel them and you don't at the same time, as if your sense of touch as become as blurry with sorrow and pain as your vision. But you know these hands.

Armin says your name, you think, but it's broken in your ears. Stuttering between grief stricken teeth, and you don't remember how to speak without sobbing first.

"You need to breathe," you think he pleads, somewhere close to your ear, and it's funny because you never stopped breathing. Sasha did, she stopped breathing. Maybe you can give her some of the air in your lungs. Somehow you manage to swallow a breath or too, but the taste is bitter and sticky down your throat.

"Sh-she's dead, Armin," you whimper, reaching out for him, for anything to keep you from plummeting into despair. "It hurts, Armin, it hurts so bad." And it does. It burns along your skin like fire, settling deep in the marrow of your bones that no matter what becomes of this war, you've already lost. Your soul bleeds for the shattered pieces left behind by Sasha's last booming breath. You meet shimmering ocean blue with a trembling gaze. "How do we make it stop?"

Armin swallows, tear tracks shinning and dripping off the soft curve of his jaw. "I don't know," he trembles. Eyes flicking between you and Sasha's body - her body because she's not in there anymore, gone and without breath or heart or dinner - you know Armin is just as shattered as you, as Mikasa and her withering wails.

You slump, forehead pressing into the curve of his neck, suddenly feeling far too tired. "There's so much blood." Armin stiffens beneath you, fingers suddenly roving over you in a panic you don't understand.

"You're right," he murmurs under his breath, "there's too much blood." He chokes on the sound of your name again, though less devastated and far more hysterical this time. "Wh-where were you standing? Were you hit?! Mikasa, get a medic!"

Dizziness wavers in your foggy mind, trying to remember, trying to tell him. "I was...I was right behind her - behind Sasha. Everything went r-red," you stammer, trying to take a breath through the sharp pain between your ribs you thought was grief but may now also be a bullet.

"No no no, not you, please not you." His voice is disconcertingly frightened as he lowers you onto the floor of the airship, pulling your arms away from where they protectively wrap your middle. You resist with what small amount of strength you still have, scared to see, scared to know, scared of the wayward thought that you may see Sasha again. "You're going to be okay. You - you have to...just breathe, keep breathing. Please sweetheart, just keep breathing."

And you do, because he asked and because you're scared to stop. More hands join his as they search through the stains of red across your abdomen, searing pain igniting under your skin. Someone is hold you down by your shoulders, another at your hips when you arch to escape the agony.

"What the hell?! Was there another shot fired?!" Jean, that's Jean. You know because he's loud and angry and a brother to you in every way that matters.

"The - the bullet...she was standing right behind..." Armin offers between aggravated sobs and sniffles and kind little reassurances as if you could hear them. But you feel them in the whisper of his breath and gentle touch of his fingers, eyes still locked on the blue of his own. "It went through Sasha and into her, no exit wound."

Someone presses down a wad of gauze onto your left side to staunch the flow of blood, and you gasp, trying to curl away from the offensive pressure to no avail. "Stop, it hurts, it hurts - please make it stop." Your face is wet with fear, chest pulsing erratically through the onslaught of pain.

Armin's palm warms your cheek, his thumb brushing under your eye in a loving caress that only makes you cry harder. "I know, sweetheart, I know." His voice is shaking, mouth bent all wrong in a devastated frown. It makes him look older, war-beaten and tired without the hope you know him to have. You mirror him, managing to place your own palm against his cheek, trying to smooth away the harsh lines you know don't belong on his so often kind face. You offer what you hope is a reassuring smile despite the thunders of of jilting pain you feel, and it must have come across just enough as his own lips curve up the tiniest beautiful bit.

They're wrapping you up now, white cloths only speckled with a few dots of red instead of the weeping mess Sasha's bandages had been only minutes ago.

"We've stemmed the flow, she shouldn't bleed out before we get back to Paradis. The bullet's still in there," the medic explains moreso to Armin than you, but you try to listen through the warped rushing sound in your ears. "It's probably the only thing keeping her alive right now. She'll need surgery the second we land, but we've done all we can for now."

You feel Armin's lips on your forehead, warm and familiar. "You're going to be okay," he whispers, and you actually believe him despite everything. "I love you," he says, and you know it won't be the last time you hear it. You refuse to let it be the last.

"I love you too." You can't actually say the words between the ache of your throat and the stickiness pasting your tongue to your lips, but you know he hears them by the loving slope of his smile.

[marshmallows2345]

Jay halstead x female reader

The girl Jay has been pinning over who he works with leaving Kim’s and getting shot while not even on duty an Kim calls a ambulance and void because she was bleeding quickly an Jay gets there before anyone seeing Kim pressing near her heart telling her to stay awake an the reader just grabbed Kim’s hand seeing her panicking trying to tell her everything will be okay

An she ends up being okay but they get really close to loosing her from how much blood she lost till she got to the hospital

the thought of losing you (jay halstead x reader)

content warning: angst(happy ending), guns, canon typical violence, and alcohol

a/n: i really hope you like this !! this was really fun to write and i hope it fits your vision!

friday nights were always reserved for drunk karaoke, booze, and workplace gossip with kim. she was your best friend; you told her almost everything(except for a few embarrassing incidents with jay). the two of you meshed together effortlessly; she matched your vibe perfectly. it was like she was your long lost sister; she was your shopping buddy, drinking buddy, everything buddy.

“we still on for tonight?” kim asked, perching on your desk, holding a mug of coffee. “i got the bacardi..”

“hell yeah, burgess! what makes you think i wouldn’t?”

“great! i’ll also order takeout.”

“you’re reading my mind, and i’m so here for it.”

she laughed before walking to her desk, sitting down and starting to fill out some paperwork. jay came over to your desk, and he also had coffee, but he had a second mug.

“what’s up, halstead? long night?”

“uh, no, actually,” he said, putting one of the mugs on your desk. “one was for you.”

“aw, you’re so sweet!” you exclaimed, taking a drink of the coffee. “it’s perfect. thank you so much.”

“no problem, anytime,” he said before walking off.

you were too busy being focused on jay to notice kim watching the two of you. once jay was out of sight, she came over to you and said,

“he likes you.”

“he does not! he’s just being nice. you bring me coffee all the time.”

“true, but halstead never brings anybody coffee. except you. and he even put milk and sugar in, the way you like it. none of us do that.”

“like i said, kim, he’s just being nice.”

she rolled her eyes at your defense and went back to her desk. kim knew; she saw the way jay looked at you, the way he’d go above and beyond to make sure you were okay. jay had feelings for you, and it was obvious to everyone except you. he was protective of you, not just because you and him worked closely together but also because he never wanted to see you hurt. you were priceless to him.

that night, you drove to kim’s house, excited for the upcoming festivities. music blasted in the car, pumping you up for the fun-filled night ahead. you had bought a case of beer, coronas to be exact, and you were walking up to kim’s door. the only light came from the streetlamps on the sidewalk and the light above kim’s door. standing outside her house, you turned your attention to your phone and sent kim a text.

“hey, i’m outside, let me in?”

as you pressed send, you heard the ear-piercing screech of tires and the signature scent of burnt rubber. turning around, you were met with the sound you dreaded most.

BANG.

BANG.

two gunshots rang out from a car before it drove away. the bullets went through your shoulder and stomach. you slumped against kim’s door, your dark blood smearing all over the mahogany wood. your body collapsed on the stoop, your hand covering the wound in your abdomen. blood pooled over your hand, filling the crevices with the warm red liquid. kim ran down in a frenzy, gun in hand. she threw open the door and screamed your name out.

“no! no!”

she pulled off her hoodie and started applying pressure to your wound. she then called an ambulance and requested police, tears streaming down her face.

“no, no, why? why you…stay with me, y/n. stay with me, please.”

there was so much blood, spilling onto the door, the concrete, and your clothes. your blue shirt was drenched with red, and so was kim’s hoodie. your cheast heaved with effort, your heart pumping blood rapidly to try and keep you alive. kim called voight as your eyes flicked up to her.

“k-kim….”

“sh, sh. don’t speak. sh…i got you.”

when voight got the call from kim, his face paled. not only because you were one of his, but you were jay’s partner. there would be hell to pay when jay got ahold of the perpetrator. he lept into action, grabbing his leather jacket and gun before quickly heading out.

“voight, what’s going on?”

“y/n’s been shot. she’s at kim’s; lost a lot of blood,” voight said, trying to keep his composure. “we gotta go, now.”

jay grabbed his jacket and hurried down with voight. he was consumed with rage. someone shot the woman he was in love with, and he was determined to make them pay. but that would be at a later date. right now, his only concern was you. were you going to be okay?

the bright lights of the ambulance were the only thing you remembered clearly. blue, red, then bright white. the pain was searing, consuming your whole body with fire and heat. you assumed the white was you being inside the ambulance. the last thing that you remembered was an oxygen mask being placed over your face as a paramedic soothingly said,

“you’re gonna be okay, don’t worry.”

when jay got to the scene, he found kim sobbing on the stairs. you had been whisked away in the ambulance, but kim was too distraught to follow. jay sat down next to kim and he asked,

“what happened?”

“i heard shots, and i-i-i came down, she was there, and the blood, and, and, she was down, i couldn’t-“ kim sobbed, wiping her tears away.

“it’s okay, kim, it’s okay. she’ll pull through. she’s strong,” jay said, more to reassure himself. “she’ll be okay.”

“she’s going to med, they took her like just before you got here, i gave the state-“

“we’re going to med,” jay stated. “get in the truck.”

you were in surgery for hours; you had lost a lot of blood and the damage done was extensive. the doctors worked tirelessly to repair your abdomen and shoulder. the shoulder wound wasn’t bad, and that would be a fairly easy recovery. the stomach wound, however, posed more issues. the recovery would be difficult, tedious, and long. it would be a very, very long time before you would be off of desk duty.

the Intelligence unit kept vigil until you were allowed visitors, each person rotating. but one person stayed, constantly: jay. jay stayed in the hospital waiting room every day, waiting. he stayed there for three days until will came out and said,

“you can see her now.”

jay practically lept out of his seat, alogn with the others. but they let jay go in first, knowing how he felt about you. he walked with will to your room, but was stopped before he could go in.

“jay, she lost a lot of blood. she’s weak, and she may not respond. she’ll make a full recovery, but it’s going to be difficult and long. she’s gonna need a lot of support and patience. i’ll go back out and tell the others, it’ll be short, one person only visits until her discharge.”

“that’s fine. i just need to see her.”

“you can go in.”

jay quietly crept into your room, pulling up a chair to sit next to your bed. he took your hand just to feel your warmth. you were alive, safe, protected. his thumb gently ran over your knuckles as he watched over you.

“i’m sorry, y/n. you-you weren’t supposed to go through this. i’m your partner, supposed to protect you. and-and seeing you like this? it just made me realize something.”

you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away at the bright light of the sterile hospital room.

“what…” you muttered.

jay stood up and he leaned over, making sure his ears were working correctly.

“it made me realize that i care a lot about you. i, when you’re better, i want to take you out.”

you blinked up into the lights, disoriented. it was so bright. so bright and white. looking over, you saw jay, hovering over you and giving you a small smile.

“hey, hey,” he softly said. “you’re up.”

“jay..”

“sh, sh…”

you closed your mouth, opting to just smile up at him.

“i heard,” you said. “everything.”

his face paled and you let out the smallest, strained chuckle.

“once you’re better, y/n. once you’re better.”

he placed a kiss to your forehead, and you flushed slightly. the heart rate monitor started beeping more rapidly and jay said,

“woah, woah, okay…i’ll take that as a yes. i’ll send the other guys in, okay?”

you nodded, settling back into the pillows as jay left, only to come back a moment later with voight. you smiled as voight and jay came in, even if it was mostly because of your feelings for jay.

[cjsinkythoughts]

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky. 

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue. 

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!” 

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him. 

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers. 

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him. 

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

~

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours,  Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[scumbagg]

NSFT/18+

Space Ghost Coast to Coast

A/N: I purely wrote this as Bell instead of Y/N since I can’t bring myself to write Y/N fics 😂 

I recently finished MW2 and needed some Ghost food to heal my broken heart after the traumatic betrayal I witnessed. Also maybe a bit of DadPrice! giving a lecture. Here goes nothing..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Bell

Word count: 3252

Warnings: smut, injury (gunshot), blood, swearing.

“Eyes up, scouts patrolling up ahead.”

Price’s voice in your earpiece came through at the exact moment the two men appeared in your line of vision 40 metres in front of you.

“Dropped him.”

Aiming your sniper, the guard trailing slightly behind fell to the ground before you’d even had time to place your finger on the trigger. Taking aim at the other man’s head, your rifle made almost no sound as you took him out a second later.

“Nice shot. Move up.”

“Thanks.” You whispered back. You turned back for a moment to the place you knew Price was laying hidden almost 90 metres behind you.

“Move, Bell. We won’t have much time before more patrols come along and find those bodies.” Soap’s whispered voice now, also in your earpiece - but you knew he was somewhere to the right of you hidden in the long grass. You crawled quietly through the grass. You heard the brush whispering slightly either side of you as the bodies of Soap and Ghost moved up to flank with you.

“Hold up, two more tangoes patrolling the fence line.” Price murmured a moment later. “Take ‘em out, or let ‘em move on. Your call Bell”

“No stragglers.” You whispered back. You heard the pops from Ghost’s and Soap’s suppressed guns as they took out the two guards ahead.

“Good call.” Price confirmed. “Can’t see anymore inbound. You’re in the clear. House up ahead is empty. We’ll regroup inside.”

“Roger.”

Standing up, you scanned the area out of precaution for more enemies. Satisfied, you nodded to the other two men to move up. The three of you passed the fence line and had almost made it to the back door of the house when it happened.

You heard it before you felt it. The sound of a pistol being fired in your direction had you spinning to face the direction it came from, when suddenly you felt white hot pain erupt in your left shoulder. Dropping to the ground, the sound was over almost as quickly as it started, but your eyesight went black as you squeezed your eyes shut in pain and gripped your shoulder as blood poured through your fingers.

“Bell!” The scream came from within your earpiece at the same time Ghost shouted your name, making your ear throb in pain. You hardly noticed with the burning coming from your shoulder, but you still flinched.

“What the fuck was that?!” You gritted through your teeth.

“One of the guards back there wasn’t as dead as we thought. He fucking is now. Don’t worry darlin’, you’re gonna be alright.” Ghost pried your hand away from your shoulder and replace them with his own. “Soap, get me the medi-kit from your pack, quick!”

“Darlin’?!” Soap laughed as he handed Ghost the pack. Frowning, he looked down at the two of you.

“He’s taking the piss.. it’s an inside joke.. had to be there.” You said through gritted teeth, glaring into Ghost’s glasses. Ghost said nothing as he worked on stopping the bleeding, but the minimal supplies in the kit weren’t doing much.

“Fuck!” Ghost said in a panicked voice. You were starting to feel drowsy, and the sight of all the blood was making you queasy. You could feel your head starting to spin, threatening to send you into unconsciousness.

“Ghost, she’s gonna be fine. Look, the bullet went straight through.” Soap said calmly, pointing at the bullet lodged in the brick in the wall just behind where you’d been standing. “It’s a clean wound, it’ll just need stitches.”

“Fine. We’ve gotta get her back ASAP. I’ll take her, you and Price grab the intel.”

“No, I’ll take her.” Price came into view, rifle slung over his back. “You’re the one that’s better with technology, you’ll get the intel quicker from the computer. Someone’s bound to have heard those gunshots, we’re sure to have company soon. C’mon Bell.” Price hoisted you up under your uninjured arm, replacing Ghost’s hands with one of his. Stumbling, you gripped Price’s arm for support. Looking over at Ghost, you noticed his eyes tighten behind his sunglasses, but he nodded in assent.

“Let’s get moving,” Price commanded, nodding at the other two. “Soap, Ghost, I’ll send for another chopper to pick you up. See you boys at home.”

*****

  Fourteen stitches and a bandaged shoulder later, the infirmary staff finally let you leave. Pushing open the exit door to the outside, you found Price leaning against a jeep waiting for you.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked suspiciously.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home. It’s a bit of a far walk and I assumed you’d be too hopped up on pain killers to drive yourself.” He replied, opening the passenger door courteously.

“Oh… thanks.” You said, taken aback by the display of kindness. It’s not that Captain Price was unkind; he’d just never shown any outward kindness outside of the field. You were surprised that he’d thought to even come back for you.

The two of you drove in silence for a few moments, before the question you were burning to ask broke its way out of your control.

“Did the other two make it back okay?” You tried to sound casual, but your insides were turning with worry.

“Yeah, they got back about an hour ago, no issues.” Price answered, concentrating on the road.

“And the intel?”

‘Acquired.” Price gruffed.

“Hmm, very good.” You stared straight ahead, watching the sun settle in the west. This was the first time in a non-formal environment you’d ever spent a moment alone with the Captain, and you weren’t sure how to make small talk with him. You sat in silence as Price drove you through the city. You wondered how he knew where you lived when it occurred to you that being a member of his team, he’d know where everyone lived. Not that you spent much time in your own house these nights. You thought back to a few nights ago...

The sound of Price clearing his throat awkwardly pulled you out of your reverie. Looking over at him, you watched as he shifted in his seat and waited for him to speak.

“What is it?”

Price sighed. “Look, I really don’t want to have this conversation. But I’ve told him the same thing I’m telling you now. This is one of the best task forces I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t want anything fucking that up. Understood?”

You felt your calm composure slip through the cracks as your eyes widened in panic. You glanced over to see him still staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Wait, you know about-”

“Of course I fucking know.” Price snapped, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. Shit, so maybe he did know where you actually slept after all. “I know everything that goes on in my team. Look,” he said calmly. “I don’t give a fuck what you get up to in your spare time. It’s like I told him, I’m not going to report it. It’s not been an issue yet. Just don’t let it affect you on the job.”

“I haven’t! I’ve been so careful about trying to keep it professional while we’re on a mission!” Your heart raced at the fact you had been caught out.

“I know you have, Bell. But that man is head over heels for you, in case you hadn’t realised. I’m concerned he’ll let his feelings for you get in the way of the job. Look at today – he’s the best man on our team for tech, and he was willing to throw the whole job, just out of pure panic for you.” Price sighed again. “I’m not sending either of you away. I just needed to remind you of the main reason we are here. If you two can’t handle that, I’ll be forced to find someone to take your place on the team.”

“Does anyone else know?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t think so, but if Simon continues on the way he was today, I doubt it’ll be long until Soap catches on.” Price grimaced, then looked over at you. “Darlin’,” he grinned.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Price pulled up outside what you now realised wasn’t your house. “I can’t believe he let that slip out.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, careful not to move too much that it pulled at your stitches. Opening your door, you looked back at Price. “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it.”

Price smiled and nodded in response. “Don’t be too harsh on him about today,” he said, looking over your shoulder as you heard the front door open behind you. You closed the door and waved as the jeep drove away.

*****

  All your anxiety from the conversation with Price suddenly turned to irritation as you turned to face the man in the doorway. You stormed towards him, your uninjured shoulder hitting his lower abdomen as you barged your way past him into the hallway.

“Bell-” he began.

“Get out of my way, Simon. I need a fucking shower.” You snapped irritably.

“Here, let me help-”

“No.”

“Bell!” Simon pleaded.

“What the fuck was that today?!” You snarled. “You might as well just fucking announce to the whole place that we’re together!” You began climbing the stairs towards the bathroom, but stopped halfway there. Staying angry wasn’t one of your strong suits, and seeing him standing pleadingly in the hallway washed away your irritation. “Look,” you sighed heavily, coming back down the stairs so you were eye level with him. “I just had the lecture of a lifetime from Price. I can’t lose what we have here Simon, and he warned if we couldn’t keep it professional out there, then one of us would be replaced.” You stepped towards him, reaching for him in both apology and forgiveness. You placed a hand on his masked jaw, your thumb stroking along his hard cheekbone.

“I’m sorry for today,” he said apologetically, leaning his cheek into your hand. “Seeing you injured and in pain, all that blood… I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed. Smiling up at him, you smacked his arm playfully. “You’re silly, you know that right. Even I knew it wasn’t bad, and you’ve seen way more injuries than I have. I can’t imagine how you would’ve been if Soap hadn’t been there to pull your head in.”

Simon wrapped his arm around your head, resting his hand at the base of your skull and pulled you in for a hug. You lifted your other arm to place it around his waist and winced. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“How are you feeling anyway, darlin’?” He stepped back to survey you.

“Rubbish. These pain killers are doing their job, but I feel disgusting. I really do need a shower.” You looked over your shoulder towards the bathroom. “I uh... might need a hand actually,” you said awkwardly, wondering how you were going to manage without getting your stitches wet. Surprisingly, this was your first major injury, given your line of work.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling you towards the bathroom.

 Simon turned on the shower and helped you undress, helping remove your shoes, pants and underwear, aware of your fresh wound as he carefully pulled the shirt from your arms and over your head. His eyes filled with remorse as they fell on your injured shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered. “That guy that shot you… that’s the one I took down. I didn’t know he wasn’t dead.” He looked away sadly.

“Hey,” you grabbed his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking you squarely in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, no one else does. I’m fine.”

“But what if it had been worse? What if that bullet had landed here?” Simon touched your forehead. “Or here,” he said, touching the base of your throat. “What if-”

“Don’t think about it,” you said firmly, pulling his hand from your neck. “Simon, I said I’m fine.” Still holding his hand, you pulled it up to your lips. “There is one thing I am annoyed about, though,” you smirked as you kissed his fingers.

Simon looked at you quizzically. “Why am I the only one naked right now? Surely you’re not gonna shower in your clothes.” You stepped inside the shower, letting the water run over your head, careful to avoid letting it hit your left shoulder.

Simon’s eyes squinted, and you knew he was smirking behind his mask as he removed the rest of his gear and dumped it on the ground next to yours. As always, his mask was the very last thing he removed. No matter how comfortable Simon was with you, and no matter how many times you’d seen him without it, there were certain insecurities that were too deeply ingrained. The last piece of Ghost removed, and only Simon stood in front of you.

Simon stepped in the large shower with you. Grabbing a face washer and pouring body wash on it, he gently helped scrub off the dried blood that had made its way down your torso. He shampooed, conditioned and brushed your hair, knowing you couldn’t lift your arm to wash any dried blood that had knotted in there. Once you were clean, you grabbed the other face wash and carefully, with your good arm, moved it across his chest and abdomen. He watched as you gently made circles on his large shoulders and down his muscular arms.

You wrapped your good arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Don’t be too long,” you smiled as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

Walking to the dresser, you pulled out some clothes and attempted to get dressed but you couldn’t pull the shirt over your head. You sighed, and sat on the bed resignedly, still in your towel. You heard the shower stop running, and Simon stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Here,” you beckoned, reaching for him. Simon came to stand in front of you, standing in between your legs. You leaned forward and kissed his stomach, feeling the warm skin beneath your lips raise with goose bumps. You tugged on his arm, pulling him down towards the ground. He knelt, still between your legs, and leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. Almost a whole foot of height difference between the two of you, yet you were the only person who could bring Simon Riley to his knees.

Your good arm snaked its way around his broad back, tracing his spine, down to his hips to the edge of the towel. You heard Simon’s breath quicken, still lightly kissing your neck, when your fingers made their way around to the front of his towel and tugged it loose, letting it fall to the floor.

You lightly brushed your fingers down his stomach and over his navel, until you reached the base of his shaft. You felt Simon’s breath hitch as you gripped it in both hands.

“Bell..” he groaned.

“Mmm?”

He brought his mouth round to yours, kissing you deeply. His mouth trailed back along your jaw to your ear. “Why am I the only one that’s naked?” You felt his smirk against your cheek as he repeated your line back to you.

“Maybe you should fix that,” you whispered back.

Simon wasted no time in removing your towel and throwing it across the other side of the room. You laid back on the bed as he trailed kisses down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and thumbing circles around the other. Your hands threaded themselves through his thick hair as you massaged his head. Simon’s hands followed his head as he made his way down your stomach and down your navel, his hands gliding over your hips and massaging up and down your thighs.

You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure as he buried his face between your legs, his mouth sucking and licking at your clit. You gasped as you felt one of Simon’s fingers enter you, then two, and he slowly picked up a rhythm as his mouth and fingers worked in synch. You could feel your walls begin to tighten as you got closer to your orgasm.

“Stop,” you gasped. Simon looked up quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly.

“Not at all,” you tugged at his arm so he pulled himself so he was hovered above you. “I need you in me right now,” you purred as you pulled his head down, his lips crashing to meet yours.

You reached down and grabbed his length firmly, stroking it. Simon’s eyes glazed over with lust as he moved his head back to your neck. Guiding him, you positioned him at your entrance.

“You sure?” he asked huskily. You knew he was teasing. He knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes,” you breathed.

You both groaned with pleasure as he entered you, filling and stretching you out. Simon set a slow pace at first, until he was sure you had adjusted to him, then quickened the pace. His hands moved to your waist as he slammed into you, holding you in place so you didn’t move around too much. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and you gripped his forearms, lost in pleasure.

Simon leaned forward and your legs dropped to his waist. He took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned in ecstasy as he hit the sweet spot inside of you.

“Simon.. I think I’m gonna-” you gasped.

Still inside of you, Simon pulled you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “Not yet, you’re not.”

“Owwwww!” You winced as the action pulled tightly at your left shoulder.

“Fuck! Sorry! You okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” you moaned as you picked up the pace again. You brought your legs either side of his waist and pulled his hands to your breasts as you lowered yourself onto him, taking him completely. Now in control, you could feel every movement and every angle as you took him deep inside you.

Simon gripped your breasts firmly as he felt your walls begin to tighten. “C’mon, darlin’,” he groaned. “I’m not far off, myself.”

“I’m gonna come,” you whined. You rocked your hips back and forth and threw your head back as your walls clenched around him. You rode your orgasm out, and heard Simon groan as his own orgasm erupted into you. You fell on top of him, exhausted and satisfied.

Simon gently rolled you off him and onto the bed as he got up to get some water. Your eyes followed him, appreciating his finely sculpted body as he walked to the sink in the ensuite, grabbing a glass off the nightstand and filling it with water. He met your eyes as he walked back to the bed.

“What?” He asked bashfully as he handed you the water, aware of his nakedness.

“You’re beautiful,” you smiled drowsily, taking the glass.

Simon chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay? They must be some strong drugs they gave you.”

“Hmmm... never better” you sighed as you handed the water back to him. Despite what you said, sleep was already pulling you under.

Simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”