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multific · 1 year

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Offering

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend and you break up before a mission.

Somehow, you knew, you could see it in his eyes.

It was your biggest fear and it became true.

He no longer loved you.

You should have noticed the signs, you should have seen it all coming.

Now that you recall, his touches were extremely different, he barely kissed you or even talked with you.

He didn't love you anymore and it shattered you.

Instead of letting him ramble on with this 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit, you simply stood up and left.

You had a mission in a couple of days anyway.

Taskforce 141 knew that their precious little flower had issues.

From the moment they saw you, they knew something was off.

Thankfully, during the mission, you were able to take your mind off of your ex.

Barely even thinking, you moved on instinct.

Currently, you were with Ghost, waiting for backup before heading into another fight.

Your target was inside a mansion and you two needed some backup before heading in.

"I didn't want to mention this, but I can see it is bothering you. Something happened, Daisy?"

You looked up into his eyes, it was weird to see him trying to be so professional while still calling you by your code name.

"I broke up with my boyfriend. We didn't exactly talk about it but I could see in his eyes he didn't love me anymore. So... yeah."

"He is a dumbass. You deserve a real man."

His honesty made you turn and look at him. You could only smile as he refused to meet your eyes. He knew he overshared. He should have just said 'sorry' and moved on, but he fucked up.

"A real man sounds about right. You know anyone?" he didn't say a word only shook his head, no. "That's sad. I was hoping you were offering," you smirked. "But oh well... Maybe Johnny would be open..."

"No." his reply came way too quickly. There was a couple minutes of silence between the two of you.

"Backup in 10 LT." came Johnny's voice over the radio.

"Copy." Ghost replied.

"You told me many times to leave him because he is not good enough for me. And here I am... I guess I'm more disappointed in myself for trying to believe that it could be real." you said as you let out a sigh.

"You did nothing wrong. He is an idiot."

"A gone idiot." you finished before the chopper arrived. Giving Ghost a smile.

You weren't sure if you were only imagining things.

You swore you could see something in his eyes, something soft and caring.

---

The mission was finished. The information had been obtained.

And you were only the lovely new owner of a shot wound on your arm.

The wound was now all bandaged up and you were ready to head back for some rest.

Ghost closely followed you as you were heading to your room.

"Y/N..." his voice came from behind you as you smiled and turned to face him. You two spent a good amount of time looking at one another before he spoke up again, his voice low.

"Maybe, I am offering." this made your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"A-are you?" your previous confidence seem to have died down as he took a couple of steps closer to you, eyes never leaving yours.

"I am." he said as his thumb came up to your bottom lip.

You two just stared at one another he moved you into your room as he kicked the door closed.

Using the darkness in the room to his advantage, his face was bare as he placed his lips on yours.

You didn't need to be told twice, you pulled him to the bed without another question or without breaking the kiss.

---

You woke up the next morning to a dull pain in your lower region and a hand on your waist.

Suddenly the reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower.

You had sex with your Lieutenant.

And it was amazing.

You were sure the two of you went on for hours and many rounds. He was an amazing lover, a giver but he also knew how and what to take from you.

You lost count of how many orgasms he gave you but you can recall that he always made your legs shake.

You enjoyed the night.

It was a good distraction from your fucked up life.

But now, that it was morning, you knew, this will all come to an end.

You felt him slightly move behind you as his breath hit your neck.

"I can hear you thinking, Daisy." using your code-name possibly wasn't the best idea he ever had.

You felt distanced from him again.

"You are overthinking." he said again and you wanted to laugh but couldn't. "This doesn't have to be any more than a night if you don't want it to be. I am now offering something more."

"You are not a relationship kind of guy, Simon."

"I could be." his reply came so fast, he made you believe it.

"So what? A secret relationship where you could come to my room and always have to look behind you trying to see if someone was looking?"

"I wanted you for long enough. I feel like I would agree to any conditions." this made you turn and look at him, searching his eyes for a lie which you never found.

You were doomed.

---

And now, you were fucked.

With a dislocated shoulder, a huge gash on your leg, you could barely stand.

Thank God you were sitting.

Sitting and bleeding out.

You let out a long sigh before you hit the radio.

"Guys, I'm not in good shape. My shoulder is fucked, I am bleeding rapidly. I managed to hide in a shop down the street but I feel like they will find me any moment. I'm running low on amo and-"

"Where are you? I'll get you." Simon's voice came over the radio.

"In the perfume store at the back, hiding behind the counter." you replied.

"Stay there, I'm almost there. Gaz, get the chopper. Johnny, how's he mission?"

"Almost got the maps, LT."

"Meet us at the meeting point Johnny." You soon heard the radio get silent as the door to the store opened, you tried to peak. "Y/N?"

"Here." you replied as Simon arrived by your side with a first aid kit.

"What happened?"

"Turned out, I can take guys like you not only in bed." you smirked but Simon didn't find it so funny. "I dislocated my shoulder and he cut my leg." you said with a more serious tone as he grabbed your leg and put a bandage on it, stopping the bleeding.

"I can put your shoulder back." he said and you knew, this is going to hurt.

When he grabbed your arm, you prepared for the worst.

It was a terrible feeling, feeling your shoulder pop right back as you let out a groan.

"Good girl." he said and if you weren't in such a pain, you for sure would have made a dirty comment.

Soon, the chopper arrived and after having a showdown with a couple guys, you were on your way back to the base.

At that point, you lost consciousness. The blood loss caught up to you.

"Daisy?" Johnny asked and you let out a noise. "Just making sure you are all good." he replied. "You made Lt rather worried today." Soap smirked as you let out another groan. Simon looked at Johnny with an angry expression.

"Let her sleep." he said as Johnny put two of his hands up in defence.

"Sorry, Lt." Simon moved to sit next to you, holding your hand, checking your pulse. "I always had a feeling you would be a protective kind of boyfriend." you opened your eyes to that, looking at Johnny. "What? You thought your room is sound proof?! Also, it's so clear that you two are dating. I'm just said you didn't tell me."

"Or me!" replied Gaz with a huff.

"How did you know?" asked Ghost.

"As I said the room is not sound proof and as quiet as you two are, we could hear the noises still. And you are not that sneaky, Lt."

"A big guy like you was basically a beacon walking into her room." said Gaz.

Simon let out a groan.

"Captain also knows. He knew before us actually. I believe he knew even before you two. He always said you two make a good team and it was only a matter of time." Gaz explained and you let out a shaky breath, squeezing Simon's hand.

"I told you to be quiet." he turned to you as you snapped your eyes at him.

"Quiet?! QUIET?! How the fuck am I supposed to be quiet?"

"You have so many pillows, you should have used one!"

"Well, excuse me! Mr 'Let me hear ya Doll'!" Both Johnny and Kyle laughed. "Are you guys... really okay with this? With me and Simon?" you asked with a rather shaky breath.

"Of course! More than okay actually. I always said that Lt needed some lovin'. Captain asked us to see if it will affect the missions. And it did, but in a good way." Johnny nodded as soon you would arrive back to base.

"Thank you." you and Simon said in unison as you landed.

Nurses barged in to get you to the medbay as soon as possible.

Simon could only watch as you were taken away.

Johnny and Kyle both patted him on the back before leaving.

Price arrived soon after.

Simon was sitting in the medbay, waiting to be let in so he could see you. This is when the captain sat down next to him.

"You two could have told us."

"We were afraid we would be separated or discharged."

"I would never do that. Sure the others don't have to know, but as a team, we are responsible for each other." Simon nodded at Price.

"Thank you."

"There is nothing to thank. Let's have a drink once she is better." Just as John said that, a nurse came to inform that Simon could go in.

He sat down in the chair next to you, holding your hand.

You two really thought you were secretive enough.

But you were okay with the others knowing. At least in front of them, you didn't have to pretend anymore.

Simon leaned over to give you a kiss on the forehead.

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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

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If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump Day 1 Part 3

Touch-Starved – Wrecker - An innocent request leads Doc to a horrifying discovery that she's quick to remedy.

Warnings: Reference to child neglect/ starvation, star wars cursing

WC: 3,452

Still slightly dazed, I watched my hands gather the last of the medical supplies littering the floor from Tech’s evasive maneuvers. He’d sent the Marauder rocketing between incoming fire and tumbling boulders too quickly for my eyes to even keep up with. Hunter had ordered me to stay aboard the ship for my own safety, but the death-defying stunts we’d had to make in order to meet the others at the rendezvous left me certain I’d have been safer with them.

But then we came into view of the very tail-end of their escape. The Separatist forces were staggering. If not for the unforgiving terrain of massive caverns and towering cliffs, the soldiers would have been overrun. Kriff, as it was, they should have been overrun, but the lethal efficiency driving their movements was… nearly inhuman.

Echo danced between flurries of red bolts, the pistol in his hand firing ceaselessly with frightening precision. Even from above, I couldn’t make out where Crosshair lay nestled against the stone wall, somehow anticipating his brothers’ actions well enough to not only avoid hitting them by mistake, but managing to build off their attacks to setoff explosives midair to cover a greater range. Hunter flitted between the targets so quickly, their own computers weren’t able to keep up, lining up enemy fire to take out handfuls of their own numbers between attacks of his own. And Wrecker…

Wrecker was terrifying in the most amazing of ways. I’d seen him toss 100Ib B1’s like they were nothing, but the B2 droids weighed over six times that, and, still, he heaved them about like it was a game. I could practically hear his booming laughter over the screaming engines, knuckles gleaming white as I clung to the flight harness trapping me into the copilot’s seat. Tech hadn’t even slowed down as we skimmed dangerously close to the ground, strafing low enough for his brothers to leap onto the lowered ramp as we soared past.

Of course, they were given the most dangerous missions – each one of them was a far cry from sane, but armed with the mental and physical prowess to rend reality into whatever truth they deemed fit. Maker, I was glad they were on my side…

“H-hey, Doc?” The hesitation in that gravelly voice instantly drew my attention back to the present, glancing over my shoulder to find Wrecker tentatively shifting his weight between his feet just beyond the doorway in a blindly stark contrast to his earlier display of might.

“Yeah, Wreck? Something I can help you with?” I asked softly, offering a gentle smile that I hoped might sooth his lingering unease.

“Ah, well… not really, just…” Maker, this man was going to be the death of me. It took every ounce of control to keep from melting into a unprofessional flood of affection amidst the display of sweet innocence before me.

“Why don’t you come in here, big guy? I promise that door won’t lock behind you.” I murmured in as gentle of an invitation as I could manage. His gaze shifted briefly, almost as though he was studying the doorway to ensure I hadn’t added some hidden locking mechanism.

“Right, no – I know that.” He said dismissively, but his movements were still stiff as he walked forward enough for the sensors to automatically slide the door shut behind him.

“Alright, you want to tell me what’s going on? Did you get hurt on that last mission?”

“No-no; nothin’ like that!” He answered quickly, hands shooting up to wave away my concern. I leaned back against the cot, hands resting lightly atop the padding in full view as he chewed absently on his lip for a moment.

“Is this about one of your brothers?” I guessed, eyebrow raising slightly.

“Uh… no?” The tilt in that word finally drew an almost exasperated chuckle from me that finally pressed him to speak, though he still stammered over the words slightly, cheeks flaring red. “Well… so, Hunter an’ Echo mentioned what you’ve been… yuh know, that you’ve been helpin’ ‘em, that it was real’ relaxin’ and…” My face lit up, understanding finally dawning on me.

“Wrecker,” I called quietly, “are you asking for a massage?” The instant I said it, his eyes flew open, lips shifting quickly around some excuse that he hadn’t quite worked out. “Sweetie, I would be more than happy to. Is there a spot that’s been bothering you?” The eagerness in my voice seemed to alleviate some of his nervous energy, shoulders sinking slightly as he watched me step away from the bed.

“No-not, not particularly? Just… sounded nice, I guess?” I had to bite my lips to still the way my heart soared.

“Okay. How about I start on your shoulders and back, and if anything feels tender or you want me to focus on anything, you just let me know?” The warmth in my offer was evident even to my own ears as I gently rested a hand over his arm to guide him toward the cot.

“Sounds o-okay, I guess.” He answered in something of a mutter, that earlier hesitation just granting him the briefest of pauses before taking that first step forward.

“Great,” I whispered, letting a grin stretch across my face. “Are you comfortable taking off your armor and shirt?” I asked, stepping away to retrieve a bottle of oil from my personal supply before adding quietly, “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“S-sure.” I wasn’t used to this side of his normally boisterous personality but was eager to reward this step out of his comfort zone with the utmost care. He quickly shed the outer shell of plastoid and shamelessly pulled the top half his blacks off without bothering to loose the clasp stretching down the left side of his chest, and I felt myself pause.

I’d known the man was strong – all of the clones were careful to keep themselves in peak physical condition, but… the way his amber skin sunk against him to overemphasize the peaks and valleys of each muscle was… excessive. With his focus absently tuned to free his legs of the heavy plates, Wrecker, thankfully, didn’t notice that moment of distraction, and I quickly returned my attention to warming the lightly scented oil. That was a concern I would have to address. Soon. But not now.

“Go ahead and lay down on your stomach for me.” I said, drawing that gentle gratitude back into my voice. “Sorry if it’s a little cold.”

“I run pretty warm, so that don’t bother me.” He replied, infectious smile finally returning to those plush lips as he settled onto the cot, corded muscles shifting with painful clarity beneath his skin. Pushing back that fresh concern, I moved to stand at the head of the bed, pouring the oil generously over my hands.

“Mind if I ask what they told you about my messages?” I started at the base of his neck, gently dragging my hands down his spine before shifting up around the curve of his shoulder blades.

“Didn’t say much, I guess – just that you didn’t need to give ‘em any shots to make ‘em stop hurtin’.” The words were muffled against mattress, but the resonance of his voice still carried easily throughout the room. I fought the initial dismissal, searching for a way to ensure he didn’t grow to expect miracles when moments were dire.

“Certain kinds of pain, yeah.” I said, letting the rhythm of my speech fall in tandem with my movements, gradually adding weight to the heel of my palms to begin working the thick mass of muscle. “If you overwork something, or pull a joint wrong, that’s something I can help with.” His shoulders slowly began to sink further into the mattress. “It’s not a magic cure for everything, but I like to think it helps.” He hummed quietly, the sound rumbling against my fingers.

“Don’ think ‘nything’s helped like that when Hunter has one of th’s episodes.” His mumbling was getting worse, and it nearly drew a huff of laughter from my lips.

“I was really touched with how considerate the rest of you were for him - you could hear a pin drop in this thing.” The light praise flowed softly from my lips, shifting slightly to focus more pointedly on the swell of tissue sweeping from his neck down to his shoulder.

“Hm, when he gets like that, nothin’ we do c’n really help, so only thing we can do is not make it worse.” The subtle groan dragged through his words. “Wha’ver you did’s the first thing tha’s worked.” The heartbreak his absently mumbled comment shot through my chest brought with it the too real threat of tears, and I had to take a slow breath to steady myself.

“I’m really glad I could help.” I whispered as though it was a secret shared just between us. “And I’m really happy you’re giving me the chance to help you, too.” A shy laughter shook through him. “Did Hunter tell you about the breathing technique I had him do?” His head shifted slightly as though to glance back at me before going still once more.

“Don’t think so.” He replied, and I could feel some tension return to his shoulders as his attention tuned in on me.

“That’s alright. Would you mind if I walked you through it?” He shrugged lightly with a hesitant, ‘sure,’ and I fell into that trance-like cadence. “All I want you to do is breathe in for five seconds, and then slowly breathe out for eight seconds.” With Hunter, I’d offered no forewarning, anticipating his own assumptions to throw him off-balance enough to disrupt that impatient reluctance, but, with Wrecker’s willingness to follow my lead, I didn’t want him unbalanced. I wanted him calm and confident, fully aware of what to expect.

“Breathe in for 5…” He readily lost himself in the quiet meditation of those guided breaths, occasionally letting out a small groan as my touch dug between his shoulders. He tensed slightly at the sound, but quickly relaxed at the steady continuation of my count.

As I worked, straining my own muscles to push deep into his, I couldn’t help but cringe at the mass of knots lining his spine and tangling beneath his shoulder blades, certain that the only reason he couldn’t pinpoint a problem area earlier was because everything hurt and found myself wondering if it was a pain he’d grown so accustomed to, he’d simply learned to ignore it. Driving by that fear, I meticulously soothed out each ball of kinked tissue until my sweat-soaked hair stuck to my forehead, straining to quiet my own breaths as I continued quietly guiding him through his.

The unruly mess of knots was only a part of my worry, however. His body was painfully wiry, dense muscles void of almost any protective fat. I knew how readily he devoured his rations, and had seen no telltale signs of illness that might impede digestion, but the man was desperately in need of at least another twenty pounds. The question of ‘why’ settled painfully in my chest. Nothing mattered more to Hunter than his brothers, and I couldn’t doubt that he was both aware of the issue and just as troubled by it as I was. Mind racing over the implications, I tried to keep my mind from wondering too far from the man eagerly turning to puddy beneath my hands.

I’d only just begun leisurely revisiting the worst spots when that deep rumble sounded low in his throat, briefly biting my lips against the threat of laughter, but his next breath shook with an even louder snore, and I couldn’t help the way my slow exhale faltered. Movements unrushed despite how deep in slumber the man was, I slowly worked my way over the broad expanse of Wrecker’s back and shoulders once more before stepping quietly away from the bed to retrieve a spare blanket. He didn’t so much as twitch as I draped the fabric gently over him and silently left the room.

“He finally got around to asking you?” Echo was leaning against the wall just a few meters from the medbay entrance, eyes shining with a mirth I couldn’t help but mirror, lips instantly pulling into a broad smile.

“He did.” I confirmed happily, chest puffing out in a little dance of pride. “He just might sleep all the way back to Kamino.” The arc chuckled quietly at my glee, lips shifting with a response, but my expression fell when I caught sight of movement behind him, and he went quiet. Shooting him a grimace of a fleeting smile, I quickly tread passed him.

“Hunter?” I called softly, freezing the Sergeant mid-stride. Eyebrow cocking slightly, he glanced over his shoulder at me as I paused barely a meter away. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” His gaze darkened at the way my troubled words whispered on a hushed breath, giving a short nod before motioning me into the rec room and purposefully closing the door behind him.

“What’s wr”

“Will you take your shirt off?” I interrupted, teeth nervously working over my cheek as my fingers fidgeted against the plate of armor stretching around my thigh. Any other day, the sudden shock that shot over his face, brows arching high above his eyes as his lips fell just slightly open, would have granted me no end of laughter, but the worry twisting through my chest robbed me of that. His expression twitched into a frown, gaze burring into me with that normally unsettling intensity, but, at that moment, I barely noticed it.

“I’m not going to like where this is going, am I?” His voice dragged past his downturned lips with a deep reluctance.

“Please.” I whispered, head tilting slightly, shameless of the desperation in my voice. His gaze turned pointedly away, jaw jutting forward as he released a deep sigh, but with a subtle shake of his head, relented, quickly piling his armor into a neat stack beside him before undoing the clasp of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Fabric still dangling in his hand, he crossed his arms impatiently over his chest and let his eyes sweep back to mine, but I didn’t notice the sharpness of his gaze.

Maker, I could see the outline of ribs connecting to his sternum. Throat shifting to swallow back the sudden stiffness, I stepped closer to him, ignoring the elegant tattoo overlaying his left side as I studied the wretched slenderness of his waist, hips far too visible against the stretch of his blacks.

“Get what you need?” There was a harshness in his voice that only deepened the guilt sinking through my gut.

“Yeah – just lost a bet with Jesse about that tattoo.” I muttered but found no relief in my own wretched joke. “If I drag Crosshair and Tech in here, am I going to be able count their ribs as easily as yours?” I asked, eyes finally dragging up his painfully lean body to see the defensive anger flare through him. The muscles balled against his jaw, tendons gleaming white as his hands tightened into fists.

“Maker, I’ve been with you for months!” I had to turn away from him, hand dragging through my hair as I fought to steady my own breaths. “Kriff, I’m so sorry.” Exhale fleeing in a tense huff, I forced myself to look back at him, to let him see the depths of my guilt and sorrow, and I saw the hesitation tentatively replacing that anger.

“Will you tell me why?” I begged. His tongue darted over his lips, that burning intensity of his gaze studying me anew.

“Can I put my shirt back on first?” Some heartbreaking mixture of laughing and sobbing shook through me, eye slipping closed as my head dropped to my chest with a small nod, absently listening for the shuffle of fabric to cease before looking back at him. He’d turned that glare toward some distant point beyond the far wall, arms once more looped over his chest as his jaw ground stiffly for a long moment.

“The Kaminoans were never particularly considerate when it came to our… differences from regs.” He started quietly, fingers absently thrumming against his forearm. “Wrecker was nearly twice our weight even as cadets, but they barely gave him any extra rations. The rest of us have been… making do – splitting our shares with him.” I went painfully still as he spoke, horrified at what he’d just told me.

“You’ve been… this has been going on since you were kids?” The words barely flitted across my tongue, reluctant to even grant them that much voice. A flash of that anger flared through him as those dark eyes briefly darted back to me, but whatever he saw when he looked at me quickly stifled it, gaze dropping to the metal floors beneath us.

“I haggle for extra food where I can, but, between the regs and the long-necks, there’s not exactly a flourishing network willing to share with us.” He growled, clinging to what safety his anger granted him. Swallowing back my own disgust at that revelation, I turned resolute eyes up to him.

“Thank you, Hunter.” His brow hitched up at my words, but I was already turning away from him, mind churning over how to fix this because if I didn’t, if I let myself fall into the despair of not noticing it sooner, I’d be no good to any of them.

I’d spent the next hour rapidly typing out messages and quickly sent them in the brief lapse between lightspeed travel as Tech changed hyperspace lanes, and, the instant we landed, darted quickly down the ramp with barely a word of explanation to the others. They’d be busy with standard debrief for at least an hour, and there was every chance we’d be taking our leave again shortly after. I had to make sure everything was finalized by then.

The last delivery had just arrived when the squad made their way back to the Marauder, and they all stopped short, looking over the half dozen crates stacked up around me.

“That better not be some useless nat-born-” I interrupted Crosshair’s snarled comment by silently tossing a ration bar at him. He easily caught it, gaze lingering over the wrapper for a moment before turning back to me.

“Oh, kriff yeah! It’s all food?” Wrecker boomed, snatching the bar out of his brother’s hand before trotting quickly forward to dig through the open box beside me. I’d didn’t have time to answer, lips only just pulling into a small grin before he shouted, “It is! Aww, these are my favorite, too!” The impressed surprised on Tech’s face sent a flush of heat up my neck.

“How did you manage to requisition so much?” He asked, glancing briefly over the wealth of supplies before looking back toward me.

“I’m your medic.” I started simply. “Regretfully, an oblivious one, but my orders still carry some weight. I pulled rank where I could and called in a few favors to update your base inventory.” The darkness that replaced the fleeting glimpse of confusion lingered for barely a heartbeat before his expression went carefully blank. His head dipped in a small nod before turning to his still exhilarated brother.

“Wrecker, let’s get these loaded. We will need to rearrange the supply room in order for them to fit.” Even the loathsome task of organizing couldn’t dampen Wrecker’s joy, and, before he moved to help, the towering man darted toward me, mischief gleaming in his eyes. I barely had time to tense before his arms darting around my waist, iron hold locking me against him as he hoisted me up in a fit of laughter. My hands darted out to his shoulders, loud gasp tearing from my throat.

“Thanks, Doc!” He set me back down and darted away so quickly, I had to grab onto one of the crates to steady myself, cheeks burning at Echo’s quiet laughter.

“Impressive.” The arc murmured warmly as he tread passed me into the ship to help Tech, the sniper following him with barely a glance toward me.

“I’m not sure if I should be grateful or offended in how quickly you were able to get all this.” Hunter said, stepping quietly toward me. My jaw tensed, again feeling that resurgence of guilt.

“This isn’t a one-time thing,” I murmured, gaze carefully burring into his, “I swear. Hunter, if it’s not enough, you tell me.” He watched me in silence for a long moment, but finally replied with a small nod.

Next Chapter

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gatheringfiki · 5 months

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The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, R, Spy AU, light depiction of gore.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Interagency Relations

---

Kíli rolled onto his back with a sleepy, content hum. He stretched his arms taut above his head and spread his legs wide, curling his toes, and released a mighty, satisfied yawn.

Late morning sun spilled through the window and over the bed, coaxing Kíli to open his eyes and greet the day. Squinting against the light, he propped himself up on an elbow and patted the bedside table for his phone to check the time.

It was already close to noon, he was surprised to find, unaccustomed to the luxury of sleeping in. His job rarely allowed for him to take his time in the morning, his rituals rigid and airtight.

However, it was Christmas Day, and he’d been given rare orders to take the day off after he—

A groan turned into a sigh that petered off into a heavy exhale from behind Kíli. How had he not realized there was someone else in the bed? Kíli went completely still, turning his head by achingly slow degrees to glance over his shoulder at the person he’d apparently shared a bed with.

The person—very clearly a man—was on his side, back facing Kíli. He had a shock of blond hair, trimmed neatly and somehow still tidy despite having slept on it. Kíli held his breath as the man began to shift in his sleep, rearranging himself so he was on his back, head tipping toward Kíli to reveal his face.

It was then the night before slammed back into Kíli’s memory with force.

They’d both been at the party last night, after the same target, but Kíli had no intention of bowing out gracefully and allowing his rival to take all the credit for the kill. Somehow, they’d pulled it off together—a total accident, Kíli having lured the target into a private, soundproofed room used for unholy activities.

Not that anyone in the crowd dancing on the main floor seemed to care, pulsing and grinding to the music in as equally a raunchy display. There was more sex happening on the dancefloor than there was in the rooms.

Kíli had lured the target, Fíli had come in behind him, Fíli and Kíli had glared at each other over the target’s head as she dropped to her knees to undo Kíli’s belt buckle. And then, bang, blood and bits of bone and brain matter splattered all over the crotch of Kíli’s pants.

It had been sheer luck that Fíli hadn’t shot Kíli’s dick off, the angle the bullet hit the back of the target’s head forcing it into the ground between Kíli’s feet.

“Are you fucking insane!?” Kíli had shouted. With a flourish, he pulled a sleek, black beretta out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and waved it at Fíli. “This! This was the plan!! Quiet and clean and—”

Fíli smirked, eyes shining, “We didn’t have a plan. You had a plan, and I had a plan. Two different plans.”

“Right, so you wanted to shoot me in the cock.”

Fíli frowned as if insulted, “No. If I’d wanted to shoot you in the cock, I would’ve shot you in the cock.” Then a boyish grin curved one side of his mouth, “You’d better get those clean while they’re still wet—” He tipped his chin at Kíli’s suit trousers, “Dried blood’s a bitch to get out.”

Kíli’s ground his molars, stepped over the target’s limp body, and marched into Fíli’s space, leaving only a sliver of air between their bodies. He glowered down his nose at Fíli, fists clenched at his sides, one still holding the beretta.

“You got them dirty,” Kíli said, “You clean them.”

Fíli scoffed, “I beg your pardon!”

“Give me your trousers.”

“Asbolutely fucken not.”

Kíli snapped the beretta open and said again, “Give. Me. Your. Trousers.”

And that had been it. The catalyst. Things had gone from dangerous to heated to dangerousandheated in the span of an instant. Fíli pushed into Kíli, pressing them together from chest to thighs, rubbing his clean suit into the blood that wetted Kíli’s front.

Kíli smashed their mouths together, clicking their teeth and stinging their gums. Neither cared, struggling for dominance as they maneuvered over the target’s body to the long, plush day bed against the opposite wall.

Kíli recalls leaving the building through the back, wearing Fíli’s trousers while Fíli was forced to squeeze into the leather PVC leggings the target had been wearing. The leggings which Kíli had proceeded to peel off of Fíli when they returned to Kíli’s safehouse. The leggings which now hung over the lampshade where they’d landed the night before.

Oh, Kíli was fucked.

There were rules—strict rules—against going to bed with rival agents.

Just as he was about to tip over the edge into panic, Fíli groaned again and arched his back, stretching out the kinks. Through the thin sheet that covered him from the hips down, Kíli saw the obvious shape of Fíli’s cock, thick and heavy against his belly. He thrust up, chasing the friction of the sheet against his sensitive skin and, in a change of heart, Kíli decided to ignore his agency’s rules for at least another hour.

He slipped a hand down Fíli’s furry chest and under the sheet, curling his fingers around Fíli’s hot shaft. Fíli’s breath hitch, his eyes fluttering open. When he caught Kíli’s gaze, a wicked smile spread across his face.

“And here I thought,” He said, voice syrupy with sleep, “You’d be having a panic attack about fucking your enemy.”

Kíli couldn’t help but grin back, wetting his lips with a flick of his tongue. Fíli tracked the movement, eyes clouding with desire.

“Technically,” Kíli said, “I have the day off. Which, to my mind means: I don’t work for anyone today.”

Fíli snorted and then fisted the hair on the back of Kíli’s head, dragging Kíli’s face to his own. Just as their lips were about to touch Fíli paused to say, “About fucking time.” And then caught Kíli’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

Tomorrow, Kíli would worry about the repercussions of sleeping with Fíli.

For now, there was nothing stopping him from taking his pleasure and indulging himself in what Fíli gave him.

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2023 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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himebushou · 1 year

Text

Gaps

The days bleed into each other: night follows day, follows day, follows day; Kazuki and Rei shoot and scheme and shoot and scheme —

And Miri is gone.

They don't know how to talk about it.

It starts with Rei making their home more presentable, picking up Miri's old toys and placing them back in Miri's old room. Kazuki can no longer bear to step inside that space, so it falls to Rei to wipe down surfaces and vacuum. He never realised, before now, that dust can somehow accumulate in an uninhabited place.

It continues with Kazuki refusing to buy Choco Puffs, even though he knows that Rei likes them; they argue, voices rising, until Kazuki snaps and disappears for three days.

While he waits, Rei plays video games (anything but Morio Kart) and tries to convince himself that his partner isn't lying in a pool of blood, somewhere. Kazuki finished off Ogino, after all: Kazuki is a fighter, a survivor, a threat. Rei has to believe in that.

Kazuki finally returns with a broken nose and a black eye.

They don't talk about it.

Work is good. Kyuutarou supplies a steady flow of targets. As a team, Rei and Kazuki have reached new levels of proficiency. Rei is less volatile and Kazuki has finally learnt how to act. He can be sinister, moody, charming, dense. Rei enjoys seeing these facets of Kazuki: they're preferable to the man who alternates between silently sitting on the sofa and replying to everything Rei says in a stupid, sing-song voice.

But it hits a wall.

A cold day in April. The start of the new academic year. Kazuki drives and Rei stares at the world beyond the windows, wanting cherry blossoms, wanting Miri. Idly, he turns on the radio and a melodic voice floats through the speakers:

"Don't say goodbye..."

Rei intervenes — stops Kazuki from crashing into the vehicle in front. Switches the radio off. Kazuki doesn't scream or cry, just thumps his fists against the steering wheel, cursing, "Damn it! Damn it!" as horns bleat around them.

They have to leave.

Quickly.

"We need to address this."

Then they're at home. Kazuki stands out on the balcony, gulping down air between his tears. Rei follows and miserably sprays the plants while Kazuki calms down.

When there is stillness, Rei looks at Kazuki's locked shoulders and says,

"Why?"

"That's a stupid question."

Kazuki laughs. The sound cuts like a knife. He says, "I don't know anything, Rei. Nothing at all. I'm... an idiot."

There he goes again, steeping himself in martyrdom, blaming himself for everything that has ever, or will ever, go wrong. Rei's patience breaks. He grips Kazuki's shoulders — forcibly turns Kazuki around. He wants to shake Kazuki! Strangle him!

But —

"Rei," Kazuki says softly, "I haven't been doing much around here. I think... I need to get my head clear. Find my own place."

"This is your home."

Kazuki scoffs. "Forget it, Rei. We're still living on your family's blood money. I know you hate this prison as much as I do."

Rei nods to show Kazuki that he gets it. It's a meaningless action — they're both aware that they are two kindred souls in a blood-garbed world and that only Rei understands Kazuki and that only Kazuki understands Rei. Thus, when Rei asks,

Hate.

Hates?

"How long?"

So Rei inclines his head again. Acquiesces. He won't force his will on others. That's a move from Kazuki's playbook, or hell, even the late Suwa Shigeki's. Instead, Rei goes back inside and starts washing rice. Despite everything, he's hungry.

He knows that Kazuki is lying when he replies,

"Just a little while."

Kazuki soon joins him. He begins prepping the fish.

They don't talk.

(And this is why.)

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies fic #suwa rei #kurusu kazuki #SORRY I WENT SUPER ANGSTY TO CATHART...#i will try to write some fluff soon!!#but man... this was going to be more from kazuki's pov #but rei just took over #(written following the episode 10 preview LOL)

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natashxromanovf · 2 years

Text

Newly Acquired Scars

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1576

WARNINGS: mentions of a bullet wound, mentions of guns, swearing

REQUESTED: {x} by @pregnant-piggy, gang mates to lovers? (you know how it is with kaz) ¡REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

SUMMARY: After a stupid mistake on a mission you get slightly hurt and Kaz is making a big deal out of it.

A/N: this was supposed to be a dialogue but it turned into a full fic so yeah, hope you like it <33 also, i made up these shooting rules, hope they make sense. gif credits to @ariesrain

"Shit, Y/N!" Jesper curses under his breath, shooting the remaining men. He quickly rushes to you, inspecting the wound on your upper arm.

"I'm fine, Jes, the bullet only grazed me," you reassure, giving him a smile. This was supposed to be the easiest job ever yet somehow you still managed to get shot - and in the dumbest way ever too. You were reloading your gun when a man sneaked up behind you, only managing to shoot once before Jesper called out and you dodged, but it was enough to get hurt.

"Yeah, well you're not the one I'm worried about right now," he jokes, making you look at him confusingly. "I'm afraid for my life, we both know how Kaz gets when you get hurt," he explains, helping you stand up.

"Oh, hush, I'll put in a good word for you," you wink at him, a chuckle escaping his mouth. "Besides, he doesn't get that worried. He reacts the same way he would if you or Nina got injured," you state, earning an eye roll from Jesper.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he says, making you slap his arm a little. “What? C’mon, I can’t be the only one who sees it,” he adds, a sigh escaping past your lips.

“Would you just drop it,” you annoyingly reply, Jesper putting one arm in the air defensively since he’s holding you up with the other.

“My mouth is shut,”

“Good,”

A couple of minutes later you enter the Crow club, Jesper sitting you down to help clean the wound. It’s nothing serious, you have been more severely injured before but it still needs to be cleaned up. He finds some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad, pouring some on it and gently wipes it over the place where the bullet hit you. You sharply breath in, flinching a little but the pain is over as soon as it started.

“Sorry,” the boy apologises, not even looking up.

“Oh, please, Jes, you and I both know I’ve been through worse,” you roll your eyes, a hum escaping past his lips.

“Here, all done,” he says seconds later, finishing with covering your wound with gauze.

“Thanks,” you say, just as the other Dregs enter the room.

“Oh, you’re already back!” Nina exclaims, her eyes slipping to your arm. “What happened?” she asks, already beside you to inspect the injury. Saints, why is everyone making such a big deal out of this?

“I’m okay,” you say for the millionth time today, reassuring the gang that you’re fine.

“If you say so,” Nina mutters, sitting on a chair beside you and continuing the previous conversation. You pull the shirt over the wound, forgetting about it and laughing along whatever stupid joke just came out of Jesper’s mouth.

An hour or so passes by before Kaz is so kind as to bless you with his presence and even now it is to hear the report about the mission you and the boy sitting beside you were sent on. The two of you excuse yourselves and follow Kaz to his office, sitting down opposite of him. Jesper starts talking while you listen along, sometimes adding a thing or two to his report. It’s not until he finishes that Kaz’s attention shifts to your upper arm covered by the white shirt, a red patch now appearing on the white fabric.

“Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Kaz states the obvious, both you and the Zemeni boy looking down at your wound.

“Shit, it must have soaked through,” Jesper says, standing up. “I’ll go find some new bandages,” he adds, leaving the room.

“What happened?” Kaz demands, his eyes glued to your face.

“It’s nothing serious, it’s just a graze. I was reloading and I took my eyes off the targets for a second but I guess it was enough,” you explain, anger and… worry evident in his eyes.

“That was stupid,” he acusses, standing up to move to your side. He removes the dressing on your arm, inspecting the wound himself.

“Here’s the new bandage,” Jesper murmurs as he enters the room, already getting ready to help you put it on.

“Leave it on the table and go,” Kaz orders, not taking his eyes off your arm. Jesper gives you a weird look but leaves the things where the man ordered anyway, not wanting to get into a fight with him right now.

“Please don’t be mad at Jes, it was 100% my fault,” you defend your friend, a stern look being thrown your way. Instead of replying he simply starts to patch the laceration again, surprising the hell out of you. If there’s something about Kaz Brekker is that he avoids physical contact at all costs. No matter if he’s bare handed or covered with gloves, he never touches anyone. Except if he’s punching them. “I can do it myself you know,” you mutter, still a little in shock. He once again doesn’t say anything, leaving you with his clenched jaw and that focused look he wears almost all the time.

“You know all the rules there are when it comes to shootings. You know them because I made you memorise them before I let you out with a gun. What’s the first rule?” he asks when he finishes, straightening up from his position and leaning against the table behind him.

“Kaz, I know the rules, it was a dumb mista-”

“What’s the first rule?” he questions again, more harshly this time.

“Never take your eyes off the target,” you quietly murmur, breaking eye contact and looking at the floor.

“What was that?”

“Never take your eyes off the target,” you repeat, averting your gaze back up.

“Never take your eyes off the target. And what did you do?” he practically mocks you, yet there’s something in his tone that you can’t quite decipher.

“I took my eyes off of the target,” you confess, growing more irritated with each second passing by.

“Exactly! And do you remember what you promised me when I sent you with Jesper on a job for the first time?”

“I promised I will always follow the rules. And I have! Every single time except today. Besides, why do you even care so much, I’m just an investment! You can replace me with a snap of your fingers if you wish so!” you spit in his face, and to your surprise he ever so slightly flinches. Kaz Brekker just flinched. You have no idea what’s going on today, it’s like you’ve been living in some upside down world for the past 24 hours.

“Because maybe I do care for you! Because maybe I actually care if you die or not!” he yells, walking a little closer to you. You didn’t even realise you were standing until you took a step back. That was the most out-of-character thing you have heard come out of someone’s mouth in years.

“You don’t mean that Kaz, stop saying that,” you quietly say, establishing eye-contact. He couldn’t mean that, could he? No, it’s impossible, Kaz Brekker doesn’t care about anything or anyone except money. It makes your heart break into a million pieces but it’s better to just forget about what could have been before real feelings start to blossom. It’s not a secret you have had a crush on the boy standing in front of you for quite some time now yet you have managed to hide it well. But you’ve sworn to yourself that it’s going to be just a stupid little crush that’s going to go away soon. But here we are now - you’re standing in front of him, all thoughts out the window except the words he said mere seconds ago.

“You’re right,” he replies coldly, composing himself back. And there it is - the Kaz way of breaking every dream you have ever dreamed. You simply nod, turning away from him to hide the tears that are inevitably coming. “Wait!” he calls out when you almost reach the door, making you take a deep breath and turn around.

“What?” you ask, without a trace of emotion in your voice.

“It’s just-” he cuts himself off, standing up and leaning against his crane.

“Kaz, you know I can’t read your thoughts, right? If you want me to know something, you’re going to have to actually say it,” you state, still holding a poker face. Any other day you wouldn’t have dared to talk to him like this but this isn’t any ordinary evening, you have established that much.

“I do care about you, Y/N. I just… can’t admit it because that would mean I have a weakness. We both know that if I want to run a gang like this I can’t have weaknesses, I simply can’t,” he confesses, making you scoff.

“Yeah, I know that. But you know, if you hold back this much you’re going to slip eventually anyway. Maybe you’re going to look at the person you care about when you shouldn’t, or you’ll flinch when someone mentions their name. My point is, you have a so-called weakness no matter if you confess it to yourself or not. Believe me, I know that better than anyone,” you explain, now turning around for real this time. “Come to me when you figure your feelings out, if you want,” you say to the door, but clearly meaning it for someone else. Then you simply walk out, back down to the Dregs like nothing ever happened.

taglist: /

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker oneshot #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fluff #six of crows fic #six of crows fluff #six of crows #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #taja's requested fics

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negansbackdoorwhore · 2 years

Text

Dangerous Game

This was a request from @sparkythefallen1

Warnings: blood, angst, romance, smut

Bounty hunting ain’t easy. But it wasn’t hard either, it was way better pay than any other job could offer. The only thing it cost was having a dead heart. No emotions were involved when it came to killing assholes for your clients. But this one in particular was a doozy. You had many people come to you about him, but it wasn’t the right price. Until a woman of interest came into the picture. She had no way of speaking but showed the offer that peaked your interest. Done.

The first steps was to figure out your target and to find out all the details. You knew from your client he was prideful, ruthless, rude, and a brute. So no mercy against the kill. Next thing, he wore a maroon coat with a black hat, along woth a handlebar mustache. Lastly, how to gain trust from him. Apparently the town you were heading to hated this man already. With the word of him killing a man and an old woman before everyone. So he will die without being missed. To keep a good cover up you went to be a bartender at the saloon.

A month’s time has passed and you knew Henry very well. He would regularly come in to drink himself stupid and talk business with his men. They were pigs but somehow his charm was growing on you. Especially the way he would flirt and call you “Princess”. His first impression wasn’t a good one however. Henry came in to see you and tried sweet talking to get into your pants. But you scoffed at him. Some nights he would flap his jaw about nonsense or in means to brag about himself. You did seem interested in him and he was most definitely pleased. But your attraction to him had to be hidden. Now he’s here again, walking in and looking all sexy.

“Evening Princess.”

“Mr. Delarue.”

You both talked for a moment and he was off with his men. You kept making beer after beer and saw how drunk they become. Especially Henry, he was swaying around and slurring his words. You couldn’t have him here like this, so you closed up. As everyone left, you made sure to get Henry to his bed safely. Upon arriving Henry tossed away his hat and coat onto the floor. While he became occupied with his boots you scanned carefully at his space. Wasn’t much of a housekeeper but not a man of possessions either.

“Princesssss.” You look at him face down in his pillow wearing a cute smile to see his dimples. You walked over and gently lowered your hand to ruffle his hair.

“I think you’re the only person who I actually trust. You’re special.” He muttered out before his eyes shut. You were in shock at what you heard. In a way it’s sad but it also made you frustrated. It was like your heart wanted to beat for him but your mind shut that down. This was an opportunity, in which you reached into your boot. As your blade was brought out you lingered it over his head. You cursed yourself because he should be dead now. In the past it wouldn’t have taken you so long but this was too obvious. You tucked it away and made your exit.

That was days ago and you were summoned to meet your client. She wasn’t too happy to see him still breathing. You then see she brought someone with her to communicate.

“This deal you had is going to expire soon. You are stalling on us.”

“Things are getting complicated. But give me more time.”

“One more week. But if you don’t kill him soon, I’ll do it myself but then kill you afterwards. Understood?”

You frowned at this sudden ultimatum but things needed to be taken care of. It was one thing to loose a job but your own life certainly wasn’t worth it. You decided to skip your bartending and got straight to the point. It was mid afternoon and you were hiding on a rooftop awaiting Henry.

He walked upon the street with his men following, that’s when your scope was lining up to shoot him. This would’ve been much better if he was alone but who cares. You then took a deep breath and took the shot. Once the sound of the bullet hit your ears, you realized that you didn’t hit him in his heart. It was just a few inches away. You saw him instantly fall and his men scrambled to find hiding. You cursed yourself as you left your gun and ran down to go help him.

You ran along the street to his blood painting the dirt. The sight of him made you feel pain that you’ve never felt before. You fell to your knees at his side and pressed your palm to his bullet wound. The blood flow was calming down with the pressure.

“Motherfucker!”

He swore out and went to sit up but couldn’t as the pain was too much. There tears in your eyes as you realized you just sealed your fate because you grew a heart for this bastard. Now was time for action, you hurried to help him stand. As soon as he gained balance you rushed him to the doctor. He wasn’t fatal but he kept swearing about his pain. The gut ate at the pit of your stomach. Especially the sight of him getting wrapped in bandages and how he started to look pale.

“You’ll need bed rest and someone to take care of you.”

“Fuck! Fine, I only want her to do it.” He nodded his head in your direction. You didn’t protest and listened carefully to the doctor’s instructions. He needed to have bandages changed at least twice a day and had to be in bed for a while. Henry hated the idea, you assured him it’s the best thing to do.

A week has passed and you were sure that your ex employer was after you. They had to know Henry was still alive. But you felt safe in a way since Henry had his men guarding the building twenty four seven. It added relief but you still needed to explain yourself. It has been nothing but taking care of him and hearing bitch about the pain. The pain you caused. So you decided to tell him after his bath that night. You were bring fresh linens to lie onto his bed when you heard him stepping out his tub.

“That you Princess?”

“Yes Henry.” You say across the room and hear his footsteps coming into your direction. He didn’t care for covering himself and you had to admit that he had a nice body under all those garments. When he came to sit you laid a towel in his spot before grabbing the bandgaes.

“The bleeding doesn’t look as bad as it was. But there’s still some none the less.”

“I see, hold still while I do this.” You stood before him and slowly began wrapping around his shoulder toward his diaphram.

“Been meaning to thank you Princess. You really came through for me and well you’re doing this bullshit.”

“It’s no problem.” You brush off his words and finish it up nicely before putting the material back into the kit you made.

“Henry. We need to talk.”

“Can it wait? I was hoping to get some sleep.”

“Please?” You say as see him lifting his covers and he sighs as he gets situated underneath. You took a deep breath as you brought yourself to the foot of his bed and sat down.

“I haven’t been honest with you for all this time that I’ve known.”

“How so?” You could feel his anger already brewing and he was looking at you made you tense. But he deserves to know who you really are.

“I was sent here to kill you. I had a mute woman wanting you dead, so for a good price I took the job.” You felt the bed shift and he was sitting up straight with a fire behind his eyes.

“It was really only a job that’s all. But getting to know you and seeing you, I fell in love. So when it was time to kill you I missed your heart and that’s why you’re here.”

There was a silence that filled the room and you were shaking at what could possibly happen.

“Be dressed and ready to skip town by sunrise.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” He hissed and threw himself to lay back down. You were confused but did as he asked. So when morning came you had your couple bags and went to check on him. He was already dressed and insisted on leaving.

“Do you want me to change your bandages?”

“Not yet. Let’s get going, we have a long trip to make.”

He brushed past you and the nervous feeling had been building up into uour chest. There was a small carriage tied to a couple of horses and you saw him toss your belongings onto it. He motioned you to come over and you were being picked up to sit in the uncomfortable thing.

“We are going to New Orleans. And I’m taking you with me because we have unfinished business. My men will stay back for a bit so it’s just us two.”

You only nod in response but gasped when he roughly had a hold of your hands. Without wasting time he had tied your wrists up in some very uncomfortable rope.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you start, after what you told me I can’t trust your ass. So fucking deal with it.” He practically growled and shoved you to sit back down. You groaned at the impact but couldn’t blame him and this aggressive was making you feel more for him. Damn it, you were stuck. You watch him bid goodbye to his men and hopped onto the seat to give the horses the signal to move.

You sat still and endured the long ride ahead of you. Hours had passed and you were bored of your mind along with the rope beginning to leave marks along your skin. The ride was dragged on and occasionally he would stop to give the horses their water. He would also stretch out his legs but you were left, he had pity for a second and gave you a couple sips of his water. But it stopped there as he kept up the journey. That was until sun started to set and he warned you it was time to set up camp. You were left in the carriage to watch him building a fire along with laying out makeshift beds. You were surprised that he made a second one. But you knew you probably had to stay in restraints. Henry stood up and went untie your rope and you felt instant relief. Your hands ran over your red wrists.

“I’ll let you roam a bit, but first give me all your weapons.”

“I don’t have any on me.” He scoffed and you just frowned.

“I swear it! They’re all inside my bags.”

“Fine. Prove it, go on.” He held the pistol that rested on his holster and kept looking at you. Cautiously, you moved to your bags and slowly removed all things deadly. Your guns and a set of knives, it didn’t seem to please Henry.

“Empty your pockets and boots. Now.” He decided to pull his gun on you and aimed for the head. You weren’t shaken up by it but only complied. You shifted your pockets to make sure they turned inside out. Then moved to remove your boots and held them upside down to show there was nothing. He approved by putting away the firearm and moved to make a fire. You didn’t know what to do except sit on one of the blankets.

“You know, I could kill you right now.”

“Yes.” You say as you hugged your knees and looked at him while making a fire.

“So why not run?”

“I deserve to be dead, after all the bullshit I’ve done with my life. Along with hurting the person that means everything to me.” You felt as if your heart was breaking with how he looked at you. There was anger and you flinched as he got closer. He removed his hat and placed it near his bag while you felt anxious on his next move. Henry already made the fire as dusk was turning to night and the air was getting cool.

“Why did you fall for me?” You chose not to answer but that shit wasn’t going to slide with Henry.

“Answer me.” He said sternly while getting closer toward your body and just inches away from making physical contact with you.

“Because, at first I knew how everyone had hate for you. With your brute nature and your crude mouth. But when I started to see you and got to know more about you, it just made me feel things that I have been trying to keep tucked away. And when you said I was special that made me realize that I can’t keep repressing these emotions.”

Henry stared at your face to focus on your expressions and then you watched him leaning closer to you. Without thought your eyes shut and anticipated his touch, after a

minute of staying still your eyes opened to see him on his blanket. You felt flustered and just laid down against the hard ground while Henry giggled to himself. It became dark fast as you watch Henry poke at the fire. The sounds of crackling and the crickets started making you tired. But once your eyes shut, Henry woke you up.

“You think you deserve sleep Princess?”

“Guess not…” You sighed out as you began to sit up.

“I need some shut eye myself. Don’t wake me unless it’s an emergency.”

You nodded and watched him lay against his blanket with his hat rested along his face. For about an hour it was just the sounds of the night and Henry’s snoring that filled your ears. You stared at the stars for that time but then curiosity started to get to you. You gradually made your way to be next to him and did best to keep quiet. As you looked over him you felt your heart starting to beat faster. He was so damn gorgeous. Your hand a mind of it’s own as it went to touch his body. You barely grazed his jacket and felt a spark. You took it further and ran from his forearm toward his shoulder. Keeping up with your pace you ran your fingers to touch his chest.

“What are you fucking doing?” His voice made you freeze and he felt your fingers trembling.

“You gonna answer?”

“Nothing.” You attempt to retract your hand but he shot up and tightly held your wrist.

“It wasn’t nothing. You keep on lying and I’ll kill you.”

You should’ve been scared but this was making your heart race with excitement. To see his eyes go dark and how he was handling the situation. You’d do the same thing.

“I wanted to feel you.” You say and he looked confused before letting go of your hand. He went back to lay on the ground with his back facing you. With that you watched over him through the night until you started to doze off. Your eyes fell shut and you felt a nudge on your body.

“Wake up woman!” You were startled by the masculine voice and looked up to see Henry standing tall before you. Dawn was clear on how the dark of night was gone and the warmth of the sun hit your body.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to but-“

“Calm down Princess. Just get your shit together. I plan on having us in New Orleans by sunset.”

You stood up with wobbly legs as you were just waking up, Henry held your arm to help balance. The touch felt electrifying until he let go. You gathered everything to be put back into the carriage and awaited Henry to put on the ropes. He walked to you and watched you hold your wrists together, without hesitation he pulled out the used material. The same amount of tightness went around your wrists and he picked you up to place in the back. You just sighed as the sun started to bake you on the ride.

“We’re here Princess!” Henry announced as he hopped off the carriage seat and the horses stopped in front of a house well more like mansion. You knew Henry had money but not this much by a long shot. He left you to sit for a minute as he approached a man to talk about whatever he needed to. You stayed put and couldn’t wait for the ropes to come off. It felt like they broke your skin by now. You heard them laugh a bit before the gentleman left on horse, Henry made his way toward you and cut off your restraints. You hissed once the rope was released and saw how your skin would blister later on.

Night time was fast approaching and Henry had already brought in all the luggage along with making sure things were prepared for sleeping. You were drug along his side the whole time so he can keep his eyes on you.

“I reckon we need both could use a good bath, I’ll go first. You stay plant your ass down on that bed while I do my business. Don’t you fucking move from there.”

“Yes Henry.” You say and went to sit on his bed, and watched him leave the room. You sigh and sat in silence, wondering as to why he’s keeping you alive. You thought for sure he would’ve killed you during the night. So for now, you waited for his return. Not long he was back in the room and tossed you a towel along with pajamas.

“Go clean yourself up and bring yourself back in here.”

You went away to the bathroom and saw the tub filled with fresh water and how there was steam rising from it. You wanted to take your time but there was a sense to make things go fast since Henry was expecting you. Quickly washing away the filth and sweat from the past couple days, you exited the tub. The pajamas was a simply night gown and you slipped over your nude body before going back to his room. He was still naked as he stood by the window and sat on the edge of the bed. You assumed you were to accompany him and sat on the opposite end.

“You really love me? Like genuinely?”

“I do. I know what I did is unforgivable but if you have to kill me, then do it.” He looked over his shoulder to see your back facing him and your shoulders were tensing.

“No.” He said in a blunt tone and you looked back at him.

“Please just do it. I know you’re probably waiting on the right place or time.”

“I said no, or is your hearing that bad?” You flinched as the bed moved with his body weight. You anticipated some kind of touch when his presence was growing closer.

“Look at me. Now.”

Your head turned in his direction and he swepted his hair back. You the felt the rough pull of his hand on your arm to pull you toward the center. You felt scared as he had you pinned down while looking over you.

“Show me. Prove how fucking bad you want me.”

“I can touch you?”

“You better.” He smirked and you leaned up onto your elbows and pressed a shy kiss on his bottom lip. Henry let you continue with your light kissed before taking hold of your chin. He smashed your mouth’s together into a demanding kiss that completely dominated you. His tongue wanted access by having you open your lips for him. You moaned against his kiss and wanted more but he denied you. It was like he knew what he was doing and pushed himself to lean up onto his knees.

“That was just a taste. But before I give you anything, I want you to make up for the shit you put me through.“

You didn’t need further instructions and made way to touch him. Henry felt your fingers on his hips to pull him closer to your mouth. His cock already semi erect and you went hold the base before licking his tip. You looked up at him as you slipped him past your lips. The sight of you and how your mouth felt was making grow harder. You could feel it against your tongue.

His patience grew thin and started to thrust his hips forward to feel how his dick started to gag you. Still, you gladly excepted him fully and made him use you. His deep groans filled your ears along with how he was basically fucking your mouth had you feeling. It was turning you on already with how he was fully bare to you and it made you grow wetter to the point of feeling it go to your inner thighs. His fingers grabbed your hair to tug and made you look up at him.

“You’re a good cock sucker. But I wonder is that pussy as good as your mouth?” He pulled your hair roughly to bring his cock away from your lips. You gasped for air and he was already pushing you onto your back. His hand pinning your wrists above your head and the other shoving your gown up enough to have reveal your wet center. You shivered at how his rough touch was all over and the feeling of his hand pushing your thighs apart, it was giving you thrill. He looked pleased with how soaked you were and admired it for a moment.

“Oh shit. You are just dripping for me Princess.”

He guided his cock toward your body and you tensed at first contact with how his tip barely slipped inside. He groaned as your walls were squeezing him and leaned down to kiss your neck.

“Fucking relax.” He said against your skin as his hips started to move. You winced slightly at him opening you up and wanted to touch him but his firm grasp wasn’t budging. You whined at Henry’s cock filling you up and making you squirmed.

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this? Thought you’d do anything for me?”

“I-I do.” You gasped when he started to go harder and you bit your lip trying to keep yourself together.

“Yeah? Then you are going to fucking take me. All of me.” He moaned out and pushed your legs up to fully view you under him. He licked his lips at the sight of you all flushed and the sounds you released was making him crazy. You could feel overwhelming pleasure just by the sight of his body on top of you and his cock being inside you was enough to make you feel happy.

“Henry! I love you! I love you!” It spilled out your mouth over and over as you came closer to your release. He let out a deep moan that immediately went to your pussy at how good he sounded. He was getting close and his hands released your legs and placed them by your head to have you grab onto his body.

“Fucking shit! I’m coming.” He rasped out and you whimpered feeling his release inside of you. You squeezed his skin and he hovered over you as his unruley hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat. His breath shaking as your legs were quivering. You saw stars for a moment and let out a noise when he pulled away from you.

“Shit. You are fucking gorgeous Princess. I’m going to keep you all for myself. You will be in charge of my men and keep me safe.” He leaned closer to kiss your lips for a quick moment.

“But don’t worry. I’ll protect you too, no one is going to cause you harm.” You faintly smile as he left your side to get on a pair of lounge pants. He quickly joined your side and smirked to himself as you were clinging onto his body.

“I love you.” You whispered and he justed kissed your head.

“I know.”

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan fanfic #jeffrey dean morgan x you #the salvation henry delarue #henry delarue x reader #henry delarue

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que-serra-serra · 1 year

Text

[Serennedy] Lucky shot

Against his better judgment, Leon takes Luis to the shooting gallery. Rated Explicit | 4.2k words | ao3 link

Leon took a steadying breath and focused on the feel of the unfamiliar gun in his hands.

A row of cardboard pirates appeared and Leon shot each of them in turn, left to right; one, two, three, four…four—

“Ooh, and a miss!” Came a mocking callout from behind him.

Leon tuned it out and kept his eye on the range. This would be the wave with two of the bonus skulls, and—there!

Leon blasted the cardboard bird with his shotgun and the spread took down one of the sailors too.

“Dios mío, now he is shooting civilians? That's dirty!”

Gritting his teeth, Leon kept going. He was one of the top marksmen in his training program, had been able to snipe distances other agents could only dream of, yet this clunky shotgun and stupid, rigged game—

“Bravo, bravo!” Obnoxious clapping sounded from behind him. “You somehow managed to hit everything except the target! Such skill!”

And that was when Leon slammed the shotgun onto the bench and whipped around to glare at his companion.

“You got something to say!?” he snapped.

Luis was smiling, leaned cockily against a barrel with his pistol dangling from his hand.

“Only that you've been at this for an hour and somehow only seem to be getting worse with time,” Luis said.

Anger flashed through Leon. “Yeah? I'd like to see you try.”

“Haven’t exactly gotten a chance to, since you've been hogging all the fun for yourself…” Luis gave an exaggerated shrug.

A lightbulb went off in Leon's head. “Tell you what,” he said. “You go on and try, and I can provide the snide comments.”

Leon tried to keep the smugness out of his voice. Luis being forced to put his money where his mouth was—and subsequently failing at it—would surely knock the arrogant man down a peg.

“Oh?” Luis raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “And if I beat your score?”

Leon scoffed: he’d seen Luis in a gunfight. That wasn’t going to happen. “Depends. How much are you willing to lose?”

“So cocky,” Luis sighed. “So, if I manage to outscore you in three tries…”

“One try,” Leon corrected. He wasn’t about to let someone else hog the whole shooting gallery when there were still prizes to be won.

“One try? Should not be a problem.” Luis smirked as he sauntered up to the range, and Leon couldn't wait to wipe that stupid grin off his face. “Then I win the bet.”

“Sure,” Leon said. “And if you lose, you’ll be shutting up for ten minutes every time I tell you to.”

“Aww, cielito, I thought you enjoyed hearing my velvety smooth voice,” Luis said.

Leon rolled his eyes in lieu of replying.

“And if I win…” Luis continued.

“Not gonna happen.”

“When I win, you’ll do a favor for me,” Luis said.

Leon frowned: he’d learned not to take anything at face value with this man. Luis had been sketchy about his past from the get go, from giving a fake identity and having inexplicable knowledge of the sickness plaguing the area, to only recently revealing that he’d been born in this village.

Leon should have known better than to trust him, and yet…

“What kind of favor?” Leon asked.

Luis grinned, leaning back against the bench and drawing Leon’s eyes downward to…

The obvious bulge tenting his jeans.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Leon spat, neck flaming hot with embarrassment. “Are you always horny?”

Luis shrugged, completely unbothered. “Most of the time, yes. But especially after watching a sexy blond handling guns for the last hour.”

Something warm stirred in Leon's gut at the compliment even as he wanted to argue that his hair wasn’t even blond.

Instead, Leon scoffed and said “You’re insane.”

“On the contrary, I am a simple man with simple pleasures.” Luis smirked. “So? Do we have a deal? One round of shooting; if I lose, you win my silence on command, and if I win, you will do me a sexual favor?”

Leon barely resisted the urge to slam his head against the nearest wall and lament what the fuck his life had become.

But it wasn’t like Luis had any chance of winning. Even if he looked good standing there, with that goddamn smirk and making bedroom eyes at Leon with an obvious hard-on, the only thing that would come out of this was Leon receiving a much-needed mute button when it came to the Spaniard’s excessive rambling.

Why Leon actually felt disappointed by that fact was a mystery.

“Fine. Deal,” Leon said.

Luis winked. “You got it, amigo.”

Luis turned to the shooting gallery while Leon took his earlier spot leaning against the barrel to watch the humiliation.

Luis pressed the button to start a new round, raising his pistol…

“Hold on,” Leon said. “You’re supposed to use the shotty.”

Luis simply laughed and called out, “Not part of our deal!”

Leon’s protest was drowned out by a series of quick shots at the row of targets that appeared. Each of the pirates went down, yet the sailors were completely unharmed.

After the first wave, Luis reloaded his pistol and glanced over his shoulder with a smirk.

Leon’s face heated. “Beginner’s luck,” he said.

Rather than reply, Luis proceeded to demolish the following wave with his pistol—even hitting the damn birds that Leon couldn’t manage despite the spread of the shotgun to help him.

Wave after wave, Luis flawlessly completed the task before him. Each time his pistol rang out, a target went down and his score kept racking up.

Leon could only lean against the barrel and stare, his earlier snark long since forgotten, as Luis stood there in his stupid leather jacket wholly unfit for combat and completed the round with perfect precision.

Once the flashing lights of the bonus time ended and the machine gleefully proclaimed a new high score, Luis turned around with a grin and raised his pistol to blow at the no doubt piping hot muzzle.

Leon’s erection—when the fuck had that happened?—twitched happily at the theatrical display.

“So, amigo…” Luis spoke up and Leon very nearly jumped. This was probably the longest he’d seen Luis go without talking. “It seems that I won our little bet."

Leon cleared his throat, not trusting his voice. “And it seems to me like you cheated.”

Luis chuckled. “The pistol? Come now, querido, we both know you would have done even worse without the shotgun.”

Annoyance flared through Leon but somehow seemed to shoot straight to his already throbbing dick. “Wanna tell me how the fuck you’re so good at this? Are you just one of those guys who gets performance issues any time there’s real combat involved?”

“Oh trust me, cariño, I can perform very well under all kinds of circumstances,” Luis said, looking up through his lashes.

Leon’s sweaty palms gripped the barrel’s edge tighter.

“But, I should probably have mentioned that I’ve been coming here for months to practice,” Luis said casually.

Leon huffed. “I knew it. Cheater.”

Luis grinned. “It’s only cheating if you break the rules.” He stalked towards Leon, then, hips swaying with every step. “And no matter how you look at it, I won our bet.”

With Leon leaned back like this, Luis was taller than him when he stepped close, almost looming over Leon. Surprisingly, Leon found he didn’t mind that in the slightest.

“Fine,” Leon said, trying to put animosity into his voice that he no longer even felt. “What do you want?”

Luis sighed and shook his head, leaning closer still. “Straight to the point, eh? You yanquis have no thoughts to romance.”

Without preamble, Luis kissed Leon, crowding him against the barrel and his hands coming up to cradle Leon’s head.

And somewhere between Luis’ tongue slipping in to caress Leon’s own and Luis’ thigh pressing between his legs, Leon groaned in both frustration and arousal alike and stopped pretending not to want it.

He brought one hand up to tangle in Luis’ greasy hair and grabbed a handful of leather jacket with the other. Luis hummed as Leon shoved his tongue between those clever lips, taking control of the kiss while holding the other man in place, lightly tugging on his hair.

“Mm,” Luis murmured against his lips and ground his thigh more firmly against Leon’s hardness. “I didn’t anticipate you to be so eager, guapo.”

“Yeah, well,” Leon huffed, pushing his hips up. “Hot dude, good with guns… you might have been onto something.”

Leon felt more than saw Luis’ smile against his mouth before they were kissing again. Affectionate pooled in his gut and mixed with the arousal already there; this was the first time Leon had openly acknowledged the—by now, obvious—attraction between them.

“Oh, corazon,” Luis said upon pulling away, before moving down to kiss at Leon’s neck. “Mi cielito, muy precioso.”

Leon swallowed a moan as Luis kept kissing at his neck and murmuring things he probably had no idea that Leon could understand. Clever hands left Leon’s face to trail down his torso, catching the hem of his t-shirt and pulling up.

“Mierda, look at you,” Luis breathed, looking down as inch upon inch of Leon’s abdomen and pecs were revealed. “So beautiful; I just want to eat you.”

Leon huffed a dry chuckle. “Get in line. I’m pretty sure some of the villagers were planning on making a soup out of me.”

“No, no, no,” Luis shook his head as he trailed his mouth down, over Leon’s shirt now bunched up under his armpits, until his face sat between naked pecs. “That would be absolutely tragic. You are much too pretty to be made into a stew.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Mm,” Luis hummed and brushed his lips over a nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” Leon cursed, arousal surging through him like lightning.

“Ah, you like that?” Luis said, then proceeded to kiss and lap at the nipple, making Leon bite back an embarrassing whimper.

When he felt the light scrape of teeth against the sensitive bud, Leon gasped and tightened the hand still resting on Luis’ nape.

“Harder,” he commanded.

“Dios mío, corazoncito,” Luis sounded out of breath, murmuring against Leon’s pec. “You drive me crazy.”

Teeth tugged sharply on Leon’s nipple and he trembled at the feeling, cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. A sinful tongue proceeded to lap at the bud trapped between teeth and Leon couldn’t suppress his noises this time. His head tilted back as he roughly squeezed around a handful of Luis’ hair and earned a husky groan, the vibrations traveling from Luis’ lips to his nipple in a delicious feedback loop.

As Luis’ mouth worked over his chest with teeth and tongue, a warm hand appeared out of nowhere to cup Leon’s erection through his pants.

“Jesus, Luis…” Leon breathed, grinding against the man’s palm to chase the much-needed friction to his cock.

Luis moaned, maybe in agreement, still nipping and kissing Leon’s nipple while his hand set to massaging Leon’s hard cock through his pants.

Leon knew he could come like this. He was too high-strung to make it last, and Luis’ mouth and hand felt way too good after days of nothing but death and violence.

It would be so easy to get lost in this simple pleasure, tucked away in the relative safety of the merchant’s basement with the man who had slowly but surely wormed his way not only into Leon’s pants but also his heart—

But this wasn’t about him.

“Luis,” Leon tried, yanking on Luis’ hair to get his attention.

That only spurred Luis on, making him moan and rub over Leon’s pants with renewed vigor.

“Hey, asshole,” Leon tried instead.

That seemed to do the trick, as Luis’ head lifted and he looked up at Leon with a crease in his brow.

“Are we suddenly moving to humiliation?” Luis asked. “Because I don’t mind; it is a little surprising, I’ll admit, but after the chain bondage and role playing earlier—”

Leon rolled his eyes and silenced the rambling by shoving his tongue down Luis’ throat.

When Leon pulled away from the kiss, Luis was blinking in confusion. “Getting some mixed signals here, amigo.”

“Just reminding you that I’m the one who owes you a favor, not the other way around,” Leon said.

And that was all it took for the smile to be back in full force.

“Ah, bonito, you almost had me frightened.” Luis leaned his head on Leon’s naked abdomen, dangerously close to where Leon was still throbbing, and looked up at him with a knowing smirk. “Has anyone told you not to look a gift Luis in the mouth? I was very much enjoying myself, and I thought you were too.”

“I was,” Leon said. “Just wanted to, you know… get our deal out of the way.”

Luis raised a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow and Leon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself: that was no way to speak to someone he was sharing an intimate moment with. Leon’s ruthless communication methods may have served him well in the field, but in private it always seemed to end up with him putting his foot in his mouth.

“Ah, you Americans and your insistence to kill romance,” Luis sighed. “How difficult is it to live in the moment?”

But he was still smiling, placing a kiss on Leon's abs and his hand still making acquaintances with Leon’s crotch, lightly massaging even throughout this extremely unsexy conversation.

“Sorry,” Leon offered, trying not to grind against Luis’ hand too much. “I just… Fair’s fair.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I already decided what I want for my prize,” Luis smiled, pressing more firmly on Leon’s erection.

Leon bit his lip to suppress a groan and tried to keep his focus on the conversation. “Yeah, uh… what is it?”

“This.” Luis squeezed Leon’s length through his pants. “My mouth on you.”

Leon’s horny, stupid brain took a second too long to catch up. “Huh?” he asked, but Luis only kept smiling and massaging him. “Wait—you wanna use the… sexual favor,” he grit out with some difficulty. “To blow me?”

Luis smiled as innocently as anyone with a handful of cock could. “Sí.”

“What the fuck,” Leon said. “That’s just—oh, god…”

Luis’ other hand had crept up Leon’s side and was now tweaking the earlier neglected nipple, creating a frizzling line of pleasure between his chest and his dick.

“Are you questioning my sexual preferences, querido?” Luis smirked. “Is a man not allowed to want to see a beauty like you unravel before them, to feel you pulsing in his mouth?”

“Fu—uck.” Leon wasn’t proud of the way his voice cracked at the word.

“Exactly,” Luis agreed. “Now what do you say? Can I pleasure you with my mouth? Suck you down until you are trembling your release down my throat? Hm?”

Luis twisted Leon’s nipple and rubbed over the head of his cock and Leon was dangerously close to coming on the spot.

“Yeah,” Leon panted. “God, yes, do it.”

“With pleasure,” Luis purred.

Instantly, both hands left Leon’s body and instead worked frantically over his zipper, pausing only to push at Leon's hips until Leon got the hint and hopped up to sit on the barrel.

In no time at all, Luis had Leon’s fly open and was shoving a hand into his boxers, immediately gripping hard flesh. The rough warmness of his palm contrasting with the cool metal of his rings had Leon making a strained moan.

“Oh, Leon, look at you…” Luis breathed as he pulled out Leon’s leaking cock. “Dios mío, but you are beautiful all over. So pretty and pink down here.”

The words shot a hot flash of both shame and arousal through Leon’s entire body. For a moment, Luis simply stood there between his legs, slowly pumping Leon’s cock and looking at it like he was having some sort of religious experience.

Leon’s body trembled from anticipation; soon, he’d get Luis’ mouth on him. He’d get to be inside Luis, cock enveloped in wet heat, making Luis moan and have to keep quiet, focusing on pleasuring Leon just as intently as he focused on the shooting range earlier.

Luis licked his lips and leaned in and god, this was really happening, Leon would finally get a break from all the shit that had been going on these last few days, from the cult and kidnapping and the parasite—

Shit. The parasite.

“Wait!” Leon said, grabbing Luis’ shoulder to halt him. He didn’t miss the annoyed sigh as Luis pulled back to stare up at him, unimpressed, but he had to ask—couldn’t risk hurting Luis. “Are you… will the parasite transmit to you if we…?”

Luis’ features relaxed into a smile. “Oh, but you are sweet.” He shuffled into a better position, kneeling properly on the floor. “But no, the parasite is not infectious at this stage and certainly not under the suppressant. Even then, mucous membrane contact isn’t nearly enough to transmit it. You have nothing to worry about.”

Leon sagged in relief. It was good that Luis knew so much about this stuff—maybe his history at Umbrella wasn't all bad. “Okay.”

“Now, was there anything else…? Luis said, teasingly sliding his hand up and down Leon’s cock.

“No, that’s—that was all,” Leon panted. “Shit, Luis, please—”

“I’ve got you, cariño,” Luis murmured, and then took the tip of Leon’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” Leon groaned, the hand on Luis' shoulder reflexively shooting up to grab a handful of his hair again. “Luis, fuck…”

Luis’ cocky hum was even better like this, the vibrations caressing the sensitive skin of Leon’s cock. Luis bobbed up and then back down, working over the tip and spreading spit and precum all over the head and dripping down the shaft.

“Holy shit,” Leon cursed.

He grabbed the edge of the barrel with his free hand to steady himself as Luis kept working over him. Luis was slowly but surely increasing the pace and swiping his tongue over the head each time he pulled up, moaning softly all the while—like he was the one getting off on this, and not Leon.

Leon couldn't remember the last time he felt this good; as nice as their first encounter had been, being pleasured by Luis’ hot mouth was something else entirely. It had been so long since anyone had given Leon head, and even longer since anyone had been this enthusiastic about it.

Something poked Leon in the thigh and he belatedly opened his eyes, not recalling when they’d slid shut, and looked down.

Luis smiled at getting his attention—as much as anyone could smile with their mouth full of cock—and stopped poking Leon’s leg in favor of pushing down on Leon’s hand still tangled in his hair.

Luis’ head lowered under their hands, making him take more of Leon’s cock and punching a gasp out of Leon. Luis pulled back up until only the tip of Leon’s dick rested in his mouth, looking up at him with blue eyes shimmering with meaning.

“You want me to…?” Leon said.

He pushed down on Luis’ head, forcing his mouth down Leon’s cock and earning a muffled moan. He did it again, a little further this time, before gently pulling Luis back up.

“This alright?” Leon asked.

This time, the answering groan sounded impatient. Luis glared up at him, his hand slapping back on top of Leon’s and pushing, until Leon’s cock bumped against the back of his throat and, fuck, it felt good, that pressure against his pulsing tip, but Luis was choking, his throat convulsing around Leon’s length—

Except Luis only moaned, loud and filthy and his eyelids fluttered shut even as wetness pricked by the corner of his lashes.

“Oh,” Leon breathed when Luis’ hand dropped away, giving over control to Leon. “You like this?”

He pushed Luis’ head back down, his cock sliding into the clenching throat. Luis choked out a garbled moan and reached a hand down to stroke his own recently freed erection.

Leon chuckled breathlessly and tightened his grip. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

It was surprisingly easy, falling into this new dynamic; with Luis’ enthusiastic moans and the way he was very obviously stroking himself in time with Leon fucking his mouth, Leon could let some of that carefully coiled control slip.

He guided Luis up and down over his throbbing cock, muscles flexing with the effort of as he used more and more force. He alternated between pushing Luis as deep as he could go, holding him there until he was gagging, and pulling him up to shallowly thrust the tip of his cock between slick lips, occasionally tugging roughly at his hair to coax out more of his moans.

Spit ran down Luis’ stubbled jaw and his lashes clumped together with unshed tears, his throat working around Leon’s cock every time Leon forced him deep. The sight had no business being as arousing as it was, yet Leon could only bite his lip and guide Luis faster, deeper, already feeling his orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Leon breathed.

Luis actually whimpered at that, tightening his lips impossibly around Leon’s cock, not showing any signs of pulling away; freely offering himself for Leon’s pleasure, like he wanted Leon to come down his throat.

Leon’s cock throbbed with the reminder of just how much Luis was getting off on this, on being used by Leon, letting him fuck his mouth as he pleased and—and god, Leon wanted to claim him.

“Luis—fuck, Luis,” Leon said. “Can I come on your face?”

And when Luis only hummed his approval and looked up at Leon through his wet lashes, deep blue eyes swimming with an ocean of want, that was all it took.

Leon’s hips shot up off of the barrel and he thrust wildly into Luis’ mouth once, twice, and then pulled Luis’ head up and gushed his release over the normally smug face now wrecked with arousal. He watched his come hit Luis’ wet, open mouth, watched it land on his cheek and his chin while Luis only moaned.

It was too much. Overwhelmed, Leon squeezed his eyes shut and only faintly heard the murmurs of “Oh, Leon, so good, querido, so beautiful.”

And as the arousal slowly faded along with his orgasm, some of Leon’s brain cells finally returned. What the hell had he just done?

Reluctantly, Leon released the death grip he had on Luis’ hair and opened his eyes.

Leon's face flamed hot with shame as he saw his depravity all over Luis: the man’s face was streaked with come, some even dripping down his neck and down his jacket.

“Jesus,” Leon breathed.

“You really have an obsession with marking me, eh?” Luis grinned, his voice hoarse but thankfully not seeming terribly offended. He looked down and huffed a sigh. “Mierda, you even hit my jacket again.”

Leon swallowed his comment about how ugly he found the jacket in favor of a simple “Sorry.”

He grabbed a clean-seeming rag from a nearby shelf and wiped at Luis’ face. Luis half-heartedly swatted at him, with protests of "Come on, I can clean myself up", but then laughed as Leon accidentally poked him in the eye while wiping his drying tears.

"Stop squirming," Leon ordered.

"Fine, fine," Luis snickered but obeyed. "Didn't know you were such a mother hen."

Leon finished cleaning the mess he'd made of Luis to the best of his abilities, trying to be gentle to offset some of the roughness that had overtaken him earlier.

It was strangely…domestic. Leon was inexplicably hit by an image of Luis sprawled out on the couch in Leon’s apartment in the States, sated and lazy and laughing at something he said, until Leon yanked him into a kiss—

Leon cleared his throat and looked away, hoping that his bangs hid his reddening face. "There. That should do it."

"Such a gentleman," Luis said. "Maybe not all yanquis are hopeless with romance, hm?"

Luis smirked and buttoned his pants, and Leon only now realized that he hadn't seen him come.

“So, uh,” Leon said. “Can I… do you want a hand, or…?”

Luis cocked his head. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “No, I took care of it myself. As you can see.” He grinned and nodded to the barrel.

Leon looked down and saw a very incriminating spot of white goo dripping down the side of the barrel. He felt his face flush even more: Luis had really come from that, from having his mouth full of cock and being roughly used by Leon.

And for the first time in years, Leon wasn't sure how to proceed. He had so many things to say, about whatever this was between them, about the affection making him want to constantly be near Luis, even as the other man had the capability to get on every last of his nerves, and about how he’d caught himself thinking about Luis still being there when this was all over...

“And you didn’t think to clean it up?” Was what came out of Leon’s mouth instead.

Luis grinned lazily, occupied with collecting his tokens from the machine by the shooting gallery.

"Loser of the bet is on cleanup duty," he said, then sauntered up the stairs. "Hurry, Sancho, or you won't get to see me winning the Luis figurine for you!"

Leon huffed out a silent laugh. He’d have to tip the merchant well in exchange for his discretion once this was all over.

Now, he simply followed after the spoiled, infuriating man who had somehow managed to win Leon's affection in addition to their dumb bet.

#serennedy #luis serra #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #re4make #re4 remake #resident evil fanfiction #que fic

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tofueggnoodles · 1 year

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Saiyuki Reload Blast Drama CD 1 – Track 2: Midnight mosquito

Summary: The Ikkou camped out for the night. An unwanted guest kept them up.

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Hakkai: In order to let Hakuryuu have a good night's rest, I pitched this tent for us to sleep in, but now I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve bought a bigger one.

Goku: Is that so? I find it quite nice, huddled together like this as we go to sleep.

Gojyo: Four guys cramped together inside a humid tent – this is hell on earth.

Sanzo: Get out of here then. Your legs have been bumping into mine for quite a while.

Gojyo: Oh, I beg your pardon. Unlike a certain someone, my legs are long.

Goku: Rather than long legs, I’d say Gojyo has stinky feet.

Sanzo: They certainly smell.

Gojyo: It’s not me.

Goku: Hey, won’t you at least stretch your feet so that they’re outside?

Gojyo: I refuse! I’ll absolutely not put them outside.

Hakkai: All right, all right! I’ll spray some air freshener on Gojyo’s feet, okay?

Gojyo: Aargh! You really sprayed it on me! Is it okay to apply this directly on humans?

Goku: Humans? But you’re youkai. [Gojyo is both, but that’s exactly what Goku says. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

Sanzo: At any rate, the problem has been solved. Time to go to sleep.

Goku: Already? It’s only eight o’clock! Isn’t it a bit too early?

Gojyo: Sanzo-sama can’t help it. After all, he’s an old man–

(A gunshot rings out.)

Gojyo: How could you shoot your gun in such a confined space?

Sanzo: Tch. I missed.

Hakkai: Sanzo! If you wish to shoot Gojyo, take him outside and do it there. You just made a hole in the tent, see?

Gojyo: Is my life worth less than a tent?

Hakkai: Anyway, as Sanzo said, we should go to sleep already. Lack of sleep causes a deterioration in one’s ability to focus, which in turn reduces one’s efficiency in performing daily tasks. Continuous sleep deprivation will take a severe toll on on our health–

Gojyo: Got it, got it! I’ll go to sleep now, okay?

Goku: Somehow, listening to Hakkai’s speech has made me sleepy. Good night, Sanzo.

(Sanzo snores.)

Gojyo: He’s already fallen asleep!

Hakkai: I’m turning off the light.

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(A mosquito buzzes, waking Gojyo up. He grumbles and slaps someone.)

Goku: Ouch! What were you doing?

Gojyo: You've got it wrong! It’s the mosquito! I was trying to hit it as soon as it landed.

Goku: You’re kidding me! You could’ve just brushed it off my face!

Gojyo: I could not help it! It was landing there.

Goku: Then, did you kill it?

Gojyo: Er, I dunno. Probably?

Goku (yawns): Okay, let’s go back to sleep.

Gojyo: Yeah.

(The mosquito buzzes again. Gojyo groans. A slap is heard.)

Gojyo: Ow!

Hakkai: Ah, it got away, didn’t it? I’m going to turn on the light for a bit.

Goku: It’s bright! Was the mosquito still around?

Hakkai: Yes, it was. But, I don’t think I managed to kill it.

Gojyo: Hakkai! You shouldn’t have hit me in the face without warning!

Goku: You did the same thing to me just now, Gojyo.

Gojyo: Never mind that. So what are we gonna do about the mosquito? We’re not going to get any sleep with it buzzing around us like this.

Hakkai: You’re right.... (tries to hit the mosquito)

Goku: O–ouch!

Hakkai: I missed it just by a whisker.

Goku: Ah! It’s landing on Gojyo’s leg! (hits Gojyo)

Gojyo: Ow! Cut it out, stupid monkey!

Goku: I’m not a monkey!

Hakkai: Ah, it’s landing on Gojyo again.

(He and Goku hit Gojyo repeatedly in their attempt to kill the mosquito.)

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(Gojyo pants loudly.)

Hakkai: Killing the mosquito is far from easy, isn’t it?

Goku: This place is cramped, so moving around is tough.

Gojyo: Oi, I clearly recall being hit a lot!

Hakkai: Perhaps Gojyo’s blood is tasty. What type is it again?

Gojyo: Eh? It’s type B.

Hakkai: People with blood type B are the second most frequently bitten by mosquitoes, you know. In this regard, those with type O get targeted by mosquitoes the most.

Goku: My blood is type O, though.

Hakkai: That’s strange. If that’s the case, Goku should’ve been the one to get bitten instead.

Goku: Maybe the mosquito went for Gojyo because like it, he’s also an insect.

Gojyo: Hey! Who are you calling a cockroach?

Goku: But I haven’t called you a cockroach yet.

Hakkai: So you do possess some self-awareness, don’t you?

Gojyo: It’s because this monkey’s always calling me by weird nicknames such as cockroach and kappa.

Goku: As I said already, I’m not a monkey, cockroach kappa!

Gojyo: What’s that, midget monkey brat?

Sanzo: Shut up! (hits Goku and Gojyo)

Goku and Gojyo: Ow!

Sanzo: Thanks to your noisy chatter, I’m now wide awake!

Hakkai: If anything, you’ve managed to stay asleep until just now. How else should I put it... that’s just like you.

Gojyo: He’s probably just slow.

Sanzo (takes out his gun): Hah?

Gojyo: I didn't say anything at all.

Sanzo: Really, stop the slapstick routine and go to sleep already.

Goku: Ah! Eeei! (hits someone)

Hakkai: Ah!

Gojyo: Goku?

Sanzo: That hurts. What are you doing, shitty monkey?

Goku: It’s because the mosquito landed on Sanzo’s face.

Sanzo: Hah?

Goku: See?

Hakkai: That’s true.

Gojyo: We finally killed it. What a trouble-making mosquito it was.

Sanzo: Mosquito?

Goku: Yeah. It’s been flying and buzzing around for a while, annoying us and keeping us from our sleep. Sorry for hitting you all of a sudden, Sanzo.

(Sanzo grunts.)

Hakkai: Ah, come to think of it– (rummages around) – Here it is... a mosquito coil!

Gojyo: Oi. If you have such a thing, you should have taken it out earlier.

Hakkai: It's only just now that I recalled having bought it some time ago. Please lend me your lighter, Gojyo.

Gojyo: Sure.

Hakkai (lights the mosquito coil): With this, we can go to sleep in peace.

Gojyo: Finally!

Sanzo: That’s my line.

Goku: Good night.

(Amidst loud snores, a buzzing sound emerges....)

(We hear several slaps, each followed by exclamations of pain from Gojyo, Goku and Sanzo.)

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(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes and clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure of.

#最遊記 #saiyuki drama cd #saiyuki #translation #sha gojyo #cho hakkai #genjo sanzo #son goku

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devilfic · 2 years

Note

It's me, cain! Since your last fic (as of the moment i'm writing this) is about stranger things (which is somehow "inspired" by the ask i sent and it makes me feel like i requested it), then i want to officially request something different. I still have ideas for stranger things, but for now... may i request a continuation of boogeyman???

❝boogeyman❞

II. no god in gotham.

parts: previously. plot: your shadow has a task for you. it's best you accept it. pairing: edward nashton x gn!reader. cw: detective!reader, dark, religious themes, use of handguns, murder, slight dumbification, conversations between law enforcement that should reasonably have them put in prison, non-graphic allusions to child abuse. words: 3.9k.

a/n: of course!! we get some further lore for the reader and a new hairstyle for edward.

When you were just starting out, the GCPD had put a gun in your hands and asked you to just hit your target. It was a fact of life in Gotham that most citizens had at least held a gun by fifteen, if not shot one, but you were a special case. You’d held a gun before. Held a gun and threatened to shoot, even, but you’d never pulled the trigger. Your fellow recruits called you “soft”. Soft was a word you could shake off anywhere else but here.

You spent hours training, impatient, wondering what you were doing wrong. That’s when you first met the man who’d change your life for the worse, “You ever killed somebody?”

Anywhere else, one might’ve balked. Another fact of life in Gotham was that if you lived long enough, you’d have some blood on your hands, “No, sir.”

Instead of calling you soft, he smiled—Lieutenant Dwyer, his nameplate boasted—and pointed at the poor target you’d been abusing all night. Then, without mincing words, patted your shoulder and asked you, “But you’ve wanted to, right?” Someone in your position couldn’t say “yes” and get away with that, could they? It had to be a test. Dwyer didn’t mind your silence, “It’s a bit easier to aim if you have someone in mind.”

“Isn’t that... dangerous?” You’d skirted around the word “immoral”, “In the field, I mean. If you’re thinking about a specific person. You could end up profiling.”

“Of course. In the field. But you just need to pass this test, right? Then you’re in? So do what you have to to get in.”

Why he cared that you pass when there were far better recruits he didn’t need to waste breath on was beyond you back then. Why he congratulated you, personally, when you did pass, you had no clue. Why he had taken you under his wing and ruined your life... you found out eventually, at least.

"I think you should take me off this case, Chief."

In all your years of knowing Chief Bock, of two things were you certain: one, you didn't make demands of the man. And two, you didn't question his authority. You'd effectively done both in the time it took for you to walk from the front door to his desk. It's only because it's you that he humors you, wiping his lip of coffee and giving you the floor, "You got a life-threatening disease I should know about, detective?"

Someone is going to die, "It's just getting a little crowded." Bock's face tells you that was the wrong thing to say.

You felt like a child. Bock, your "parent", insisting you were the very best on the force. Gordon, his "parent", indignant that the Bat could be trusted beyond the system. Both with their hands on yours and Batman's shoulders, shoving you two into the spotlight and saying "Look! Look how much better this one can be."

It always ended up with you and Batman in the middle. Your only solace was that he seemed to hate it as much as you did. "Did Gordon bully you into this? Huh? Five years ago and you'd have been singing a different tune."

Five years ago, you were still honest. "No, sir. But it's obvious what you're doing. Batman solves one too many crimes and suddenly people are questioning the GCPD's competence," Bock snarls at that, "so you put me on the scene. All it's doing is taking away from the work."

"I put you there because you're smart."

"With all due respect, sir, you put me there because you can't take him out. Because no one wants him out."

And it was true. With every public takedown of another crazed villain, Batman shot higher and higher up the popularity polls. Questions had steered from "Is the Batman a threat?" to "Who's the Batman's next threat?". He was a celebrity, and while there were still plenty who opposed him, the tides were changing.

To remove Batman from a case was like dooming it to fail.

Bock stews in his anger, clearly caught in a trap. It helped that you were one of the few who had yet to pick a side between the Bat's fans and adversaries. At the very least, you could see the situation for what it was. "Do you not want this?" Bock demands, finally.

"Of course I want this."

"But you wanna leave it to the vigilante and run off with your tail between your legs?"

It would be easier for you to agree with that. Let him think you a coward and save yourself the stress. "I just... I want to know why I'm still here. Why you believe that I have something to offer that the Batman doesn’t. And don’t say a badge."

Bock grinds his teeth behind his pursed mouth. You’d like to think it was because that’s exactly what he was going to say. He takes his time coming up with something else, "I trusted Lieutenant Dwyer. I trusted Detective Kenzie. I trusted every goddamn man I put on this force. And then I wake up one morning and... Dwyer's dangling over the harbor and I find out he's been putting bullets in skulls for hush money. And you," Chief Bock's scornful finger points your way, "standing there on that same harbor. You two used to be attached at the hip. Couldn't figure out for the life of me why you weren't hanging right there with him."

You both had that in common. It probably kept you up at night more than it did him.

He continues, "But then I thought about it, about all of it. If you were someone I couldn't trust, that psycho would've made sure of it. And yet you're here. Truth is, you've always been a good kid. I'd rather you on this case more than anybody else. I don't say that lightly."

It twists your gut, his earnest eyes. You can't look at him when you know the truth. "...Thank you, sir. I'll... think about it."

When it was time to pull the trigger in the field for the first time, your bullet had missed. It went flying off somewhere into the smog, flung too high too quickly to hit much more than a passing bird. Briefly, you’d wished that they’d get away.

Another bullet flew through the air shortly after yours and the suspect fell to the ground, dead. Your partner had taken the shot that time. They hadn’t held it against you.

“Did you do what I told you to?” Dwyer sipped absently at his coffee, not bothering to look you in your pitiful eyes.

“I... I couldn’t.”

“Hm. You may not be so lucky next time.”

The Batman is a big man. It’s probably all the Kevlar and armor and the pointy ears of his cowl that make him seem enormous, or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you stand by his side. The corridors are too small for him, cops weaseling past the two of you even as you press your heels against the wall. The Batman isn’t as accommodating, simply watching them struggle by.

With Bock and Gordon in a screaming match behind the chief’s office door, you supposed he had nothing better to do than strike up a conversation, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You don’t scare me,” you probably aren’t helping your case with the wounded rabbit look on your face, “where’s this coming from?”

Batman clears his throat, keeping his face turned forward. He almost looks... embarrassed. “The other night. When I drove you home.” Your confusion only grows. “I don’t want you to think I was trying to intimidate you off the case.”

Your first instinct is to laugh. Then, you roll your eyes. You could hazard a guess as to who put that thought in his mind, “Did Bock say that to you?”

“He insinuated it.”

“I was thinking about leaving, but not because of that.” Batman stares down at you, asking with his eyes. “I just figured you’d have the case covered. Seeing as you’ve got experience with... him and all.”

Referring to him as him and not your shadow, the ever present demon jerking you around by the strings, felt just as wrong as saying his real name. “We don’t know if it’s him yet.”

“But it probably is, right?”

It wasn’t like he was dead. It wasn’t like the GCPD didn’t still have a warrant out for his arrest. He was very much still a wanted man.

When the floods had broken out that night, no one could be blamed for thinking of themselves. Those who were lucky enough to live above sea level sheltered in place, wondering when help would come and if they’d be locked in for days without food or electricity. Those who weren’t had their bodies flushed out with the draining of the city. Worries went to jobs, possessions, families and friends. Why would anyone be thinking about Arkham’s finest breaking out in the chaos? Those worries didn’t come until after.

Some hoped they all drowned in their escape. Others hoped they’d leave Gotham and never come back. Others, like you, knew they lied in wait. The floods weren’t bad for everybody.

The Batman had sworn to find them before they could cause any more harm, but then the Riddler had showed up in the dark of your bedroom and the rest was history.

“When I talked to him in Arkham, Edward was... smart. Meticulous. All his plans were like he’d laid out the chessboard and the pieces moved themselves. I was one of them,” The Batman gets this far off look in his eyes, shame mixed in the pits of blue, “everything down to the T had his signature. The councilman’s murder is familiar, but not exact. Something’s wrong with it.”

Your breath is stilted, uneven. You’d had your doubts that he knew who was hiding in your shadow, but asking him would give it weight. You had to be careful, “Because there was no riddle?”

“A man that proud of his work and he doesn’t sign off on it? Something’s changed.”

A lump begins to form in your throat. Gordon and Bock are still tearing into each other mere feet away. You feared your heart beat loud enough for them to hear it.

You don’t mean for your eyes to wander off but the Batman doesn’t seem to mind. He takes to surveying the area again, always on the lookout. You wonder through your mounting anxiety if anything ever truly flies under his radar. It only solidified to you how little you could compare. How close you were to being caught.

It’s a miracle when Gordon throws open the door, panting, and ushers the two of you inside.

Bock is at his desk having shifted from glaring down Gordon to glaring down your caped companion. The Batman, again, doesn’t seem to mind. You wonder what all that screaming could’ve accomplished when Gordon speaks up from the other side of you, “We’ve been getting letters taking credit for the murder.”

The chief drags a sack onto his desk and out spills about a hundred different envelopes, all different sizes and colors, all different addressees. One clearly says “To the Batman”, another “To the GCPD”, and another “To GOTHAM”. Most of them are for the Bat, but all of them are a clear imitation of one another. Their inspiration was not far off in distant memory.

You watch as the Batman takes one addressed to him and peels the flap up to retrieve the card inside. It’s a cheap greeting card. Just like- “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,” he thumbs it open, revealing an unruly script inside, barely legible even as the three of you gather ‘round to read it, “the Lord punishes and the Lord rewards. Who’s side are you on?”

Your stomach is doing flips. Bock looks annoyed, clearly frustrated with the turn of events. Gordon looks unsettled. The Batman... his mind is working. “You religious, Bat?” The chief mocks. “I’m starting to think there is no God in Gotham.”

There’s still a church to pray to him.

It’s changed a bit since the bombing. You remembered seeing the Batman blown across the room with the detonation of the bomb, wondering if that would be the end of him. How hadn’t it killed him? How hadn’t it unmasked him, cracking his cowl (and skull) in two? He was lucky. More lucky than the man whose brains were splattered all over his suit.

There were metal detectors out front now. Ugly, modern things that clashed against the cathedral’s ornate bones. They were ugly but necessary. You’d read the impassioned editorials on this godless city, your city, and how it was all the citizens’ faults for not believing in a higher power. For trusting in a false god to cleanse the city of its evil.

His black head turns toward you as you approach his pew.

Riddler rarely went out these days. When he did, he was skulking along the worst parts of the city where people would sooner run in the other direction than call the cops. His friends in the underground kept him safe enough, but when he needed to be in public, he took to changing his face. He wasn’t very proficient with a makeup brush and concealer, but it changed enough of him that no one really looked long.

It had startled you the first time you saw him like that. It made you finally call him by his name, “Why here?”

He had your apartment. Free reign of it, in fact. He had the dark alleyways. He even had the Penguin’s new and improved Iceberg Lounge if needed (as thanks for putting him on top of Gotham and Falcone beneath it). Why the church he sung in as a little boy? The church he killed a man in under the eyes of heaven?

“I thought a change of scenery would be nice,” he smiles, broad and unsettling as always, “and I wanted to see if they’d let me in. Please. Sit.”

His hair had grown significantly since the floods. With it dyed black now, he really did look like an entirely different person. Without the coke-bottle lenses taking up half his face, you really got to see more of him. New parts of him.

You take the seat he allots you at the very end of the pew and he immediately scoots closer until you’re sandwiched between his thigh and the arm rest. His proximity at home- in your home was nothing new, but in public? Where a stray priest might see? You squirm, focusing now on the papers folded in his hands. “What are those?”

Riddler... no, Edward, turns his face toward you with a closed-lipped grin and hands you the papers.

Most of them are old prints of the front page news. The dates range from the 80′s to the 90′s, some bleeding into the new millennium. The only thing any of them had in common was the same white, wrinkly face printed black and white on every page. You had to live under a rock not to know who this guy was. “Scott Winthrop?”

Edward crosses an arm over you to highlight a headline you’d skimmed over, “Gotham old money. Older than the city, practically. They came over from down south.”

“What about him?”

Your eyes meet Edward’s in the breath’s distance between you both. “He’s got a dirty history, detective. Generations worth. You know how I know him?” Your head twists to make sure no one might be sneaking up on you, “He used to come here every Sunday. In this very pew. He visited the orphanage too. Donated a couple blankets one winter. We all fought over them.”

“So what’d he do to you?”

“Nothing to me. I wasn’t his... type.”

Your head spins the moment you get it. You’d seen this man on TV. He’d donated to charities for years. He owned a portion of the city. He owned the block you live on. “What... did nobody try to stop him?”

“He donated shoes, too.” Your revulsion is harder to hide up close, as is the furrow in the middle of his forehead, “Of course we did. We were kids. But he paid very good money, detective. He only stopped coming ‘cause his wife caught him. Well... that, and I burned the place to the ground.”

“And you want...” Your breath shudders. The guy was too rich of a target, wasn’t he? He had to be hiding behind layers of security to rival Arkham. Bruce Wayne had been one in a million. There was no way he’d get that chance again. “How?”

Edward’s shoulder pushes into you as he shifts, hand reaching into his back pocket for something. A phone. It was his burner gifted to him by the Penguin himself. He flips it open and shows you a text on the screen.

Saturday. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

- O

No doubt “O” was Oswald Cobblepot. “What’s Saturday?”

“A celebration,” a sparkle lights up in Edward’s eyes; you’d think he was a boy in the candy store, “the old man’s turning the big seven-zero. And I have an invitation to the party.”

“How in the hell-”

“People will pay anything to not think for themselves. My sponsor is very generous.”

“So you want to do it at the party? Even with an invitation, you’re not getting close to the guy. Let alone close enough to... dress him up. I know you hate the guy and I don’t blame you but you’re crazy if you think that we can-”

Your teeth clash together with the force of his hand gripping your jaw. His big, spindly fingers hold your cheeks close together, bruising the soft flesh of your face until you’re only inches away from his face. There’s a hard look in his eyes. You tuck your chin as close to your chest as he’ll let you, hoping not to alert the scattered devotees throughout the room. “I’m not stupid, detective. Let’s stop pretending like you’re the one who thinks for the two of us, hm?”

Naturally, you nod. His fingers cup your jaw instead of clenching it now. Once upon a time, you would have never let someone put their hands on you like this. “You just need to trust me. I promised to keep your secret. So trust me.”

You could’ve laughed if you weren’t certain it would end badly, “Do you trust me?”

Edward laughs for you, practically cackling and drawing the attention of those nearby. His hand drops as soon as their eyes turn your way. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You could strangle him. “Oh, and don’t worry about how you’ll get in. If your precious GCPD is as diligent as you say they are, they’ll make room for you at the party.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve already sent word ahead. You’ll find out soon enough.” The furrow in Edward’s brow smooths over then, his face returning to calm. He was in control again.

He glances quickly at his phone once more and takes the papers back from you, folding them into the pocket of his rain coat. You always felt this dread every time he left. You didn’t know when, or how, but he’d pop right back up in your life again and you’d be right back to where you were before. Anxious. Exposed. Dragged by the scruff and forced to keep up appearances until he left again.

Part of you wanted to always see him. To keep an eye on him. At least so it’d come as less of a fright. But you knew where he was. He was your shadow, never too far behind. Even if it scared you sometimes, deep down, you knew it was always there.

Edward rises on his long legs and scoots past you into the aisle. The words come out before you can stop them, “Will I see you before the party?”

He blinks a few times—a consequence of the contacts he wasn’t used to wearing. The faux freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose stretch underneath his smile.

Seeing him coming doesn’t stop you from flinching when his hand touches your cheek again. The heel of his palm presses into the side of your mouth while his fingers curl toward your nape.

He pats your cheek twice and leaves you there.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

Dwyer startles at the sound of your voice. You’re smart enough not to touch the picture frame in case it might be overstepping, instead keeping a finger pointed in it’s direction. It’s a beautiful picture. You could tell it was taken on one of Gotham’s atypical sunny days.

A host of emotions cross his face, but the most prominent is foreign to you. Pride. Your parents hadn’t had much of that for you. “I did,” the sorrow, though, was familiar, “she was killed when she was fifteen.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Your hand drops to your side.

One look at your face and he goes back to cleaning the action of his gun. “It’s alright. I got the motherfucker. You gonna finish your coffee?”

You’re just leaving the church when the shrill of your ringtone bounces off the walls. You quickly grab the belting thing and answer before anyone could say anything, shuffling out into the light drizzle, “Hello?”

You’re surprised to hear Gordon’s voice on the other line. His number in your phone was starting to be more ornamental than useful, “You might wanna get down to the precinct soon. We think we might have found something.”

“Did something come up?”

“A card, actually. The Bat noticed it in the pile of... letters the Riddler’s fans left. It’s the only one with anything concrete to it.”

“A clue?” A riddle, you mean to say. You hug your coat tighter to yourself and get as close to the road as you can without getting splashed by the cars that race by.

“Yeah... and an address.” So that was the word. You hiss through your teeth and shake your hand in the air, cursing each taxi that speeds right past you. “You think you can get here in the next ten minutes? Chief wants to go over our next move.”

Might be twenty, you want to growl. Since when did anyone in Gotham turn their nose up at a little extra cash in their pockets? It was like you were a ghost.

Just as you’re about to give up and start down where you’d come from on foot, a bike’s roar makes the concrete under your shoes shake and tremor. You hear it before you see it pull up in front of you, careful to slow down before your legs could get splashed with the city’s toxic rainwater.

The Bat is a welcome sight up until you realize that you hadn’t told anyone where you’d be going when Riddler had texted you to meet him.

Gordon’s distant voice calls through your phone. Batman explains, giving nothing away. “I thought this would be quicker.”

Was he watching? Did he know? Had your shadow really left, or was he pushed up between two buildings, watching you? Egging you on? Begging you to take this chance. You’re smart, but the line between reality and your reality blurred everyday.

Gordon calls your name again and you quickly recover, choking out, “I’ll be there in five.”

taglist: @yikes-buddy

#edward nashton x reader #edward nashton scenarios #edward nashton imagine #edward nashton #riddler x reader #riddler scenarios #riddler imagine #the riddler #paul dano riddler #the batman x reader #the batman scenarios #the batman #mjwrites

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toastess-with-the-mostess · 7 months

Text

Let's Rewind! Toast watches Voltron: Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 23: It Takes Real Lions Season 1, Episode 24: Raid of Alien Mice

Episode 23: It Takes Real Lions I keep noticing how lotor has this chiseled jaw, man they really wanted to make this man seem attractive huh

He's being smart at least, training a robeast by letting him fight 5 robot cats that look WAY sleeker than the actual lions not that the flashback of Zarkon agrees with it

The team is doing some training too though, glad to know they're always prepared Break time! They're going swimming in the lake nearby the castle, using blue as a launching dock

Allura swims too! The boys are stunned they're seeing her in a bikini but nonetheless watch her pretty cool dive,,, except she loses her top and once she finds that out she's not happy about it Neither are Nanny and Coran when they find out she skipped her lessons just to be out swimming in what Nanny deems as Incorrect Clothing,, I know she's doing her job, but MAN IS SHE ANNOYING

I love every screenshot we get of Pidge using Hunk as a pillow, what a duo

Back into her room Allura goes, apparently she can speak at least 50 languages and is studying to learn even more, overachieving to the max Though she's falling behind in her studies, I mean her planet IS at war, so I'd expect a little slack yknow, but not like Coran or Nanny care because they'd rather her not be fighting in it in the first place

A weird light starts coming down to Arus and Coran figures out it's Lotor, obvs the boys set off to stop him but leave Allura behind because "it's too dangerous for her" motherfucker HOW, it's the same shit each time, I feel like you know how bad it gets when there's only 4 lions out fighting but no ig you gotta do it for the DRAMA

The boys get fucked up by the robeast lotor sent out as expected and he knows that Allura isn't out fighting, so he goes to kidnap her from her room which luckily for him is locked because NANNY WANTED HER TO FOCUS ON HER STUDIES This woman good god,,, she couldn't have predicted it but holy crap I hate her with a passion

A couple of guards and Coran get to her in time though, and she runs off to go help the boys while Coran tells her it's too late to do so I WONDER WHO'S FUCKING FAULT THAT IS HUH, GOD IS NO NON-COMBATANT SIDE CHARACTER LIKABLE IN THIS SHOW??

Voltron forms and after some struggle the team wins of course, look I have no idea what kind of message they were trying to send, but apparently it was "Allura can be a princess and fly a lion at the same time" which is fucking stupid BECAUSE SHE NEVER WORRIED ABOUT THAT, IT WAS CORAN AND NANNY CAUSING PROBLEMS AGAIN I hate them so much you guys

/episode end

Episode 23: Raid of The Alien Mice Shooting stars! Except they're hitting the surface of Arus,,, and they're actually pods for weird mutated mice,, They set off the alarms too, the boys are convinced the mice or some of their friends set them off, Allura not so much

Ah cartoon logic,,, a mouse can't chew through metal or set off a bomb in the castle, but somehow they're still definitely at fault for setting off the alarm Once again reminding me that I'm not the target audience, so it just means it's hard to watch

The boys end up searching the generator room anyway after another shortage, finally seeing that the culprits aren't the mice they know, but killer ones instead Also, Hunk pries open a closed automatic door, apparently he lifts weights, which isn't surprising, but I'm glad the show mentioned it and didn't make him out as entirely lazy

Confirmation that they came from planet Doom, those bitches are always the root of problems These mutant mice are literally melting doors and cameras now, horrifyingly affective, one of the mice (chitter) volunteers to find them so Allura puts a tracking collar on him before he goes, how cute

The team and the mice find the freaky little guys BUT INSTEAD OF TRYING TO SHOOT AT THEM TO TAKE DOWN THEIR NUMBERS THEY JUST LET THEM THROUGH TO THE MAIN COMPUTER WHERE THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO GO also a robeast got sent out, so Keith leaves Allura and Pidge to guard but not like it helps because the other three can't even get to their lions in the first place

Chitter plays bait and fools the mutant mice into leaving since Pidge and Allura can't reach where they are so first chitter can't take them alone, but now he can? great the guy really couldn't fight,, after getting punched out he finally leads the enemies out and Pidge shoots them on sight, as they should've done in the first place

the other boys are running to their lions on foot, almost dying in the process ofc, when Pidge and Allura are finally able to get into their own from the castle a wasted trip because they got to pick up the boys and drop them off at the castle again,, couldn't you have dropped them off directly at their lions lair? no? ok i guess

After the team all regroups and defeats the robeast as voltron, allura treats the mice to some of the best cheese in the castle's pantry, which pidge immediately tries to take a chunk of even though chitter bats him away from it, twice kind of anticlimactic honestly, wish we got more to see with the team actually doing something against the mice and not fighting a random robeast at the end

/episode end

#voltron #voltron defender of the universe #voltron dotu #80s voltron #let's rewind!#toast talks #once again on my anti nany and coran agenda #might make an OC to replace coran because WHY IS HE ACTING AS SECURITY #HE'S AN ADVISOR #gonna kick is ass in TWO universes

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missmeikakuna · 2 years

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No One Loves Like Gaston Ch 10- Gaston/Beast fanfic

Rated: K+ (The plus is due to canon-compliant beer and violence. Other than that, I made it as family-friendly as I could.)

Fandom: Beauty and the Beast

Pairing Type: M/M

Pairings: Gaston/The Beast, Lumiere/Cogsworth

Potential content warnings: References to beer and light references to homophobia.

Description: Ah yes, a man falling for a male furry creature, a tale as old as time. Wait, what? In an alternate timeline, Gaston spots Maurice's horse before Belle does and decides to save Maurice to earn Belle's affection. He is so excited to do this that he forgets to bring weapons and, unable to win a fight against the Beast, he takes Maurice's place as the castle's prisoner.

The last thing he expected was for the Beast to have a kind and gentle side. After all, how could someone ever learn to love a beast, especially a man as intent on shielding his genuine emotions as Gaston?

Lumiere and Cogsworth bicker over the possibility of a relationship between Gaston and the Beast, becoming closer in the process. However, Lumiere keeps flirting with the feather duster, and Cogsworth is adamant that no relationship between two men could work.

Chapter 10: No one makes Gaston ride through the woods like the Beast

Gaston caught up to the mob just as they arrived at the castle. The once-blue sky was red with flames as the townspeople stormed to the front door.

Gaston hid behind a tree, trying to figure out a plan. The mob thrust a tree trunk through the door, broke it and stampeded into the castle.

He heard cheers, followed by yelps and squeals. Gaston jumped off the horse and ran to the entrance, peeking from behind the door.

A light flashed before Gaston’s eyes as Lumiere lit a man’s bottom. Cogsworth pulled a woman’s long nose towards his pendulum and repeatedly smacked her with it.

Lumiere and Cogsworth stood back to back as they continued attacking the intruders. Lumiere gave Cogsworth a wink, which made the pendulum slapping go even faster. Despite his embarrassment, Cogsworth gave Lumiere a smile with enough warmth to rival Lumiere’s lit candles.

Mrs Potts and Chip poured tea onto the villagers. Madame de la Grande Bouche dropped from the top of the staircase and slammed onto a man’s back, all while belting out the highest note Gaston had ever heard.

Gaston took the commotion as an opportunity to sneak up to the West Wing. If he could warn the Beast ahead of time, maybe things would work out.

Before he could sigh in relief upon seeing the Beast’s face, he saw the Beast stepping backwards onto the balcony as a knife-wielding Lefou inched closer.

‘How dare you take away my Gaston!’ He yelled, taking a step every few words. ‘You took him and… a-and changed him!’

‘He changed me!’ the Beast retorted in the voice of someone about to cry. Euphoria bloomed in Gaston’s chest when he heard those loving words. This feeling disappeared when the Beast stood dangerously close to the balcony rail.

Lefou snickered. ‘Did you really think someone like Gaston could ever care about an ugly monster like you?’

Gaston picked up his bow and arrow, aiming them at Lefou. He took a deep breath but saw the Beast staring at him.

He looked at Lefou, his longtime friend. He tried to will himself to shoot, but the sight of the Beast in danger made him unable to breathe properly for the shot. The arrow hit the balcony floor beside Lefou, who spun around. Loose strands of hair fell down Lefou’s face and the floppy bowtie around his neck was crooked. His teary eyes glistened like his knife in the moonlight.

‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ Lefou said. ‘No need to kill this beast for me. I’ll do it for you.’

Gaston pulled out a dagger, hoping it would somehow be easier to use on his target. ‘You little-’

He lunged at Lefou, who slipped underneath him. Gaston’s unused momentum sent him running towards the Beast, knife still in hand. The Beast stepped to the side on instinct. Gaston saw the tops of the trees beneath him as he began to fall.

His core went through whiplash when the Beast wrapped his arm around his torso. The Beast pulled Gaston back towards him and caressed his cheeks as if checking for injuries. The ends of his claws dug into Gaston’s cheeks ever so slightly, but his fur was soft against his skin. Gaston placed his hands atop the Beast’s to get him to soften the grip of his claws. He reached for his face and brushed his thumbs against the fur above his cheekbones. Their smiles were as soft as the Beast’s fur.

The Beast roared in pain as his upper half curled backwards. Lefou pulled the knife from his back, a crazed yet hopeful smile on his face.

Gaston picked up Lefou by his collar and held his dagger up to his face. Lefou was heavier than usual. He kicked the dagger out of Gaston’s hand, freeing himself from the distracted man’s grasp. He leapt off the roof onto an arcading. Gaston picked up his dagger.

Lightning punctured the sky with strike after strike, momentarily lighting it before leaving it in darkness. During those flashes, Gaston could just barely see Lefou enough to follow him.

‘You… monster!’ Gaston shouted as he pounced on Lefou, who had a broken castle piece in his hand like a club. Lefou swung the club in Gaston’s direction, hitting his shoulder. Although the club's top broke into pieces upon impact, Gaston only slightly winced as if the club weighed little more than a chestnut seed pod. Any other day he would be proud to be so impervious to attacks, but at this moment, all he could see was the red-tinged image of the man who attacked the Beast.

Lefou held the club up to defend himself and Gaston tried to push it away. They engaged in a battle of pure strength with their hands tightly clutching the club. Eventually, Gaston won.

He shoved Lefou down, ground his fist into his chest and raised his dagger-wielding hand into the sky. His chest heaved with each laboured breath.

Lefou’s eyes were wide and his jaw was open. ‘I’m the monster? Look who you were just making kissy faces with! Did that beast make you go blind? If he hurt you, I swear to-’ Lefou screamed as Gaston lifted his arm in preparation to strike.

‘No!’ The Beast roared, reaching his paw out into the sky.

Gaston held the knife in the air with a shaking hand. He looked up at the Beast, slumped over the balcony with his hand reaching out to Gaston but being much too far away. Those blue eyes of his were full of so much suffering.

Gaston dropped his dagger. He leaned in towards Lefou with a scowl. ‘Get. Out.’

He then stood up and twisted his body towards the Beast. He took a few steps towards the balcony, hoping to climb up to him. Lefou had other plans.

Lefou took the dagger and a step, hoping to stab him. ‘If you’re not mine, you’re no one else’s!’ he screeched. His foot rolled on the half-broken club beneath him, sending him falling backwards. Gaston reached out to him but it was too late. Lefou disappeared into the mist below like that vase Gaston had knocked off the balcony.

Gaston stood there momentarily, trying to grasp what had just occurred. He resumed his task upon hearing a whimper of pain from the Beast.

He climbed up the balcony and knelt by the Beast, hovering a hand over his back.

His voice was hoarse with panic. ‘What do I do? I don’t know how to heal wounds! You can’t die on me! You just can’t!’ Tears escaped from Gaston’s eyes.

The Beast rolled onto his back and rested his paw on Gaston’s cheek. His breaths were ragged and yet strangely serene. He grinned at him.

‘Maybe it’s better this way. At least I got to see you one last time.’

He dropped his paw and slowly closed his eyes.

‘No, come on, stay with me! Beast!’ He slammed his fists on the Beast’s chest. ‘You can’t just leave me like this, you idiot! I…’

The last rose petal began to fall.

Gaston hesitated. Was he really going to say this? The words seemed so foreign coming out of the mouth of someone like him. It was like a child swearing or Belle saying yes to marriage. And yet, no words had ever rung so true.

‘I love you!’

Gaston saw a streak of red rising from the Beast and initially assumed the worst. But then an orange light shot up in the sky to meet it, followed by yellow, green, blue and violet. The streaks of light twisted around each other and transformed into two intertwined hands. Finally, an almost blindingly bright white light lifted the Beast off the ground, sending waves of wild wind outwards.

The hairs on Gaston’s neck stood up as he watched with utter confusion. This was followed by fear when the light appeared to swallow the Beast.

Parts of the light subsided, revealing legs and hands where there were once paws, luscious locks of auburn hair where there was once a mane and a handsome, clean-shaven face where there was once a furry beast.

The light gently laid the man back on the floor of the balcony. Gaston’s hand stalled, but he eventually touched his face, stroking his fingers against the man’s strong jawline. He winced a little, unsure what to make of this unfamiliar face.

The man opened his eyes and Gaston’s tight shoulders loosened. It was those same brilliant blue eyes he loved.

‘It… it’s really you…’ Gaston whispered. The other man sat up. Gaston leapt forward and wrapped his arms around his waist in a bone-crushing hug. ‘You’re alive!’

The man patted him on the back. ‘Okay, you can stop now.’ His voice was still deep, but not nearly as much as before.

Gaston obliged but not without giving the man a light nudge in the shoulder with his fist.

‘Don’t scare me like that, big guy. Why did you tell me to stop when I tried to attack Lefou?’

The man twisted his head to the side at a low angle. ‘I… I didn’t want to see you take a human life.’ He looked back at Gaston with a smirk. ‘So… you love me, huh?’

Gaston’s face went completely red. He spluttered, ‘That… th-that… Okay, fine. I love you. Happy now?’

The man shrugged. ‘I’m not complaining. It saved me.’

He put a smooth hand around Gaston’s cheek and leaned closer. ‘Wait,’ Gaston said. The man puckered his still-thick eyebrows in disappointment. ‘I can’t exactly call you Beast now, can I?’

The man laughed. ‘Call me Adam.’

‘Well, then, Adam, I love you. You better love me back after all this.’ Adam’s smile grew as he closed the gap between their lips. Gaston’s eyelashes fluttered at the contact. He felt as though he was the one being lifted by light. His heart danced around his chest in every direction. After a second of experiencing these sensations, he kissed him back.

Gaston put his arms around Adam’s head and brushed his thumbs against his hair. Adam had his hands around his waist.

When they finally stopped, Gaston’s lips tingled with electricity.

‘Ah, l’amour is in the air!’

In a perfectly synchronised motion, Gaston and Adam turned their heads towards the entrance to the balcony.

#Disney #Beauty and the Beast #pride month #Gaston x The Beast #fanfiction #lgbt #romance #writing #lgbt romance #drama #fiction #gay romance #fanfic #slash fic #gay #No One Loves Like Gaston

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chicken-fifi · 2 years

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The Protector and the Protected - Part XVII

Description: After a minor slip up in security, the existence of the only daughter of a diplomat is leaked to the world. With no knowledge of what other unprecedented dangers may arise, your father brings you home after an attempt on your life while living abroad. Upon your return, you are assigned a personal bodyguard to ensure your safety who is to be by your side practically every waking moment. Come hell or high water, he makes sure that you’re as safe as can be while under his watch. As much as you tell yourself that this isn’t some bodyguard fanfic where you end up falling in love, somehow your protector manages to make you question that small detail.

Warnings: Violence, guns, cursing, sexual inuendos, kidnapping, constant danger, mass shootings, smut, idk man just stuff

Word Count: 1,868 words

The Protector and the Protected Masterlist

It was by some miracle that the Congressman had managed to leave the abandoned building as quickly as he had. Mere moments after he and the small handful of his men that were stationed there had thrown you in the SUV and were on the road, the building’s motion systems went off. While that did nothing more than simply send a small message that there was unknown movement, it did alert him to the little time he had to execute his plan without a single fault - although even he was doubting that any of it would go to plan.

They were onto him and it would only be a matter of time before they figured out what a part of his endgame was - that is, if they hadn’t figured it out already. He knew good and well that no matter the conditions he gave your father for your safe return, he wasn’t guaranteed the presidency. While your father’s influence was rather great and would plan a pivotal role, leaving him alive would only complicate things, even more so if you lived as well. But if he somehow managed to make this all look like it was brought on by an outsider, someone with a vendetta against the diplomat and what he stands for, a simple promise during your funeral services to bring the perpetrators to justice could get him the votes.

But everything needed to go to plan for that to happen. And right now the scale could easily be tipped if he didn’t reach the estate in time.

~~~

With the sudden reveal of Park’s plan still processing in everyone’s brains, they all moved quickly to leave the building relaying the information to HQ for further instruction. While none had expected to be able to rescue you without a fight, they had not expected things to have escalated this much in such little time.

“They want us to head directly to Mr. (y/l/n)’s estate. There’s still a slight chance we can beat him there and end things,” one of the heads of the swat team relayed.

Seonghwa’s hands played nervously with the gun in his hands. The weapon felt like a part of him, something he could hold and work with little to no problem, except there was a rather larger problem. Despite the fact that he carried the gun on his person as part of the whole bodyguard display, he hadn’t actually pulled its trigger once. Yes he’d put his finger on it, he’d taken off the safety, he’d aimed, but he had never fired it. He could never fire it.

Before being a bodyguard, before Zara’s death, before he was framed for her murder, he wouldn’t have hesitated once when it came to firing it. Allowing the small metal bullet to burst out of the chamber, flying gracefully through the air and hitting its target. The smokey aftermath of the gunpowder and hear exuding from the same spot the bullet had exited. It was all something he had once been accustomed to, almost like a second part of him being. And then he witnessed her brutal murder.

“Seonghwa?” Wonjae’s voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. “Park’s reached the estate and has taken Mr. (y/l/n) hostage.”

He looked at his friend only then catching just how quietly he’d relayed the information as he heard the same xwat leader from before barking out more orders. Not that any of them mattered to him, the captain could give them as many orders as he wanted, but he wouldn’t be listening to a single one. He wasn’t going to let you die, he wasn’t going to permit you to be brutally murdered. If he had to give his life to ensure you got out alive he would. He may not be able to pull the trigger, but he had been assigned to protect you.

And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

~~~

You came to as you were being hoisted up from the leather seats of the SUV. Being thrown over someone’s shoulder you groaned slightly struggling to figure out where exactly it was that you were at. Upon walking through the doorway of your new location you immediately realized where exactly you were: your father’s estate. You also noticed the men following behind whoever had you thrown over their shoulder were carrying a large black trunk like object, their faces void of any type of emotion. All of you were past the foyer in a matter of seconds and you were dropped onto the couch in the living room, struggling to sit up as you noticed the figure standing in the doorway that led out of the living room.

Your father.

Mr. Jung was directly behind him forcing his way forward and standing in front of him.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, taking note of the fact that your father’s attention was solely on you.

Park chuckled, taking a seat on the couch beside you, snapping his fingers. The men that had been walking behind you struggled forward with placing the trunk on the floor and opening it revealing a massive explosive that began counting down once one of them pressed a small button on the device.

“Just a small business proposition,” Park answered rather smugly. “All of the staff have been taken care of, correct?”

“Yes sir,” one of Park’s men replied monotonously.

Park nodded focusing his attention back to your father and Mr. Jung, “I would suggest you sit down, we’ll be here for a while.”

~~~

Upon their arrival at the estate it was clear that getting inside the actual house would be much easier said than done. Seonghwa looked at the positions of each of the men that were standing guard, trying to find a way to slip past them. Wonjae subtly pointed towards the side of the house. There was enough cover for him to be able to get by unnoticed for the most part.

While everyone else was busy trying to make plans on how to get everyone out of the building with minimal bloodshed, Seonghwa silently snuck off, sticking close to the wall that offered the best chance of making it to the house without being noticed. He stayed low and made sure the vegetation hid him well enough to go unnoticed. He easily made way and got to the side of the house, continuing to stealthily move so as to not be noticed. Once at the back of the house - which was completely unguarded - he tried a door. It was unlocked and gave him the entry point he needed. Not bothering to send any message he went inside weaving through storage rooms and pantries. As he neared what he could only assume was the kitchen, he heard soft thumping against a door. He carefully opened it revealing some of the staff that worked at the estate. Wasting no time he held undo the bindings preventing them from moving and pointed in the direction they should go in.

“Try and find a way to leave the grounds from the back of the house. Don’t go to the front.”

Seonghwa continued on his way, not finding a single soul in his path until he was about to exit the kitchen. It was only then that he heard voices. Your father’s, Mr. Rat face, and Park. Given the tones of the formers, things weren’t looking good. He made his way to a wall that gave him a clear view of the living room while still keeping him out of sight. Park had a gun positioned into your side, his men all blocking the foyer. Your father and Jung were seated in seats directly across from Park, a bomb clearly separating both parties.

“We both know that you can’t secure the presidency for me alone,” Park said in response to something your father must’ve said.

The three men continued going back and forth, your father offering more in exchange for your life, Park refusing each offer time and time again.

“However, there is one way,” Park voiced, his eyes snapping in the direction of his men who quickly ran out of the foyer and out of the house.

Swat and his team must’ve made a move, Seonghwa thought. It would be now or never for him to act too.

“You all die and I avenge your deaths,” Park ended, motioning to the bomb.

At his words Seonghwa entered the room, hands at his side garnering everyone’s attention. Park smirked at the new presence in the room, gun still pointed at your side.

“Well, looks like I have more to gain in this than I originally intended.”

He slowly made his way further into the living room keeping his gaze focused on Park. There was gunfire ringing faintly from outside the walls of the estate, but no sign of anyone coming inside anytime soon. He took a brief glance at the time on the bomb, 10 minutes.

That glance didn’t go unnoticed and Park took the opportunity to fire a shot hitting him in the thigh and sending him to the ground. Mr. Jung quickly rose to his feet, only to be shot as well, the bullet hitting him square in the chest, killing him instantly. Your scream echoed in the vast room. Park stood up holding you to him as he pointed the gun at your father who also stood up raising his hands.

“Please,” he begged, noticing as Seonghwa painfully attempted to stand back up, managing to do so. “Just let her go.”

Park noticed Seonghwa standing up and pointed the gun at him again. Your father took the chance to charge at the congressman, knocking the gun from his grip and forcing him to let go of you. Your first instinct was to move to help your father but Seonghwa - who’d managed to limp towards you - stopped you and led you back towards the kitchen and out of the house. He got you as far away from the house before turning, ready to head back inside - presumably to help your father.

“Stay here,” he uttered, holding your face. “Don’t think about following me inside.”

Not waiting for a response he headed back in, limping through the halls until he reached the living room. Your father was holding down Park with all his might, throwing a look over his shoulder and noticing the bodyguard he’d personally requested to keep you safe.

“Get out of here!” he yelled as he continued to force Park to stay down. “I can’t risk him getting away. You have to keep her safe. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”

Seonghwa looked at the timer, less than 2 minutes remained.

“Seonghwa!” your father yelled. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Your father sent him a forced smile before screaming at him to leave, his own hands struggling to hold down Park. Seonghwa hesitated before limping back towards the kitchen and barely making it outside just as an explosion went off, the force knocking him to the ground. Between that and the blood loss he floated in and out of consciousness, just managing to register your touch before he passed out.

#kpop fanfics #kpop fanfictions #the protector and the protected masterlist #the protector and the protected #soloist and actors masterlist #gray #lee seonghwa #gray masterlist #lee seonghwa masterlist #gray fanfic #gray fanficton #lee seonghwa fanfic #lee seonghwa fanfiction

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nptnewr · 2 years

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Window Repair ~ Adrian Chase x Reader

A/N ~ Some Adrian full to finish out the night! | tagging @andillwriteyouatragedy because nikki is always motivating me!! | hope you like this @acupnoodle

Summary: Adrian Chase has a significant other...however, his friends don’t believe him? Except for when he gets hurt, calls you, and is dragged into your house via window!

Warnings: Mentions of violence | 11th Street Kids being Mean to Adrian

Word Count: 1.2K

“That’s a total lie, Vig. I call bullshit!” Chris claps his hands.

“I’m not fucking lying! Why would I lie about having a partner?” Adrian throws his hands up in the air.

“I don’t know, you are weird like that. You probably just want me to be proud of you. Which I am not, because that would just mean you are tied down to one person for the rest of your life. Sounds boring.” Chris picks up his phone and begins scrolling.

“Well, maybe I do want to spend the rest of my life with them.” Adrian mumbles.

“I think it’s cute!” Leota smiles. “However, I don’t it’s real. If you do find someone though Adrian, you should let us meet them.”

“But-”

“Will you three finish putting shit in the van?” Harcourt cuts Adrian off, pushing past the group.

Adrian had been telling the 11th street kids about his partner for a few months. This issue with that was the fact that none of them believe him. Sure he had shown them pictures of you, but surely Adrian couldn’t be dating you, right? I mean look at you!

No matter how many times Adrian had tried to convince the crew, they just refused to believe him. Eventually, they just let Adrian keep ‘believing’ he was dating someone as perfect as you.

“Are you still on that whole, I date Y/N thing? It’s getting annoying. Not like anything else you do isn’t annoying.” John rolls his eyes as he packs the van.

“Whatever.” Adrian climbs into the van. “I just don’t get why you guys don’t believe me.”

“Because Adrian, you are you, and the person you keep showing us is five billion times out of your league.” Chris laughs as he straps in.

“I agree, but somehow they date me.” Adrian shrugs his shoulders with a smile.

“Nice flex bro.” John scoffs.

–

The team was going after a group of gang members who were trying to sell some alien tech to a shady company. Waller had informed the group that the gang members had tech that was far more advanced than standard weapons. However, the team never seemed to care.

Harcourt had tried to get the team to work together and not get their heads blown off. Then, Chris had decided to throw a bomb in their direction as soon as they got there. That was when chaos had begun and there was nothing to do other than to go in guns blazing.

John was directing the team from the van while Leota and Harcourt were shooting a few men from afar. Vigilante and Peacemaker were the two in the middle of the action shooting and stabbing people left and right.

It was like a dance the two had figured out. A way to swiftly eliminate targets before they even knew what hit them. Before long the gang was taken down and the two heroes were able to bring the alien tech back to the van.

Vigilante was about to get into the van when a loud shot rang out. The two men had missed someone. Peacemaker quickly made work of the man and pulled Vigilante, who was now bleeding from his torso, into the van.

“Drive!” Chris screamed as he threw his helmet across the van.

“I’m -shit- alright. I just need to get back home.” Adrian tried to sit up but yelled in agony.

“You are not alright Adrian, you got fucking shot!” Harcourt yelled as she moved to sit down beside him.

The team, except for John who was driving, watched as Harcourt looked over Vigilante's wound.

“It looks like the bullet went straight through. It’s close to where your organs are though Adrian. You have to be looked at.”

“No!” Everyone jolted at his outburst. “Sorry. I just, I had promised Y/N I was going to be home tonight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You are still on about your fake partner right now?!” Leota yelled.

“Will you just -fuck- take my phone and call them for me. Their contact is in there.” Adrian coughs up a bit of blood worrying everyone.

“Fuck. Fine, just hold on.” Harcourt rummages around for his phone.

She unlocks the phone after Chris tells Harcourt his birthday and she scrolls until she finds your name.

You were having a peaceful night watching some reruns when your phone rang. Picking it up you saw it was Adrian and smiled. Your ID of him was one where his glasses were askew and he looked like a fucking idiot. Your fucking idiot.

“Hey babe, are you almost home?” You ask.

Harcourt almost chokes on air when she hears that. She quickly puts the phone on speaker, not believing what she's hearing.

“I-uh…so this isn’t Adrian. My name is Emilia Harcourt.” Emilia looks up at the team in shock.

“What? Harcourt? Is Adrian okay? Is he hurt? Shit. I knew he shouldn’t have gone out as Vigilante tonight..” You begin to ramble.

“I’m fine babe! Nothing a little TLC won’t fix.” Adrian cheekily grins while coughing up more blood.

“Fuck. You got shot again didn’t you?” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Adrian sighs.

“Well, Emilia, could you bring him home? I am a certified nurse, so I should be able to take care of him.”

“Yeah, uh, yep.” Harcourt nods, still in shock.

“Love you Adrian, please be safe.” You end the call quickly to grab supplies.

“Holy shit! You weren’t lying!” Chris pats Adrian on the shoulder earning a grunt from the man.

–

By the time the team arrived at your house, Adrian was barely conscious. Chris had to carry him practically bridal style to your home. You had texted the team to go through the side window, which was right by the woods. Harcourt was thankful that Adrian had a smart partner who knew how to not be suspicious around others.

Chris had peeled open the window and tried his best to maneuver Adrian’s half-awake self into the house. This turned out to be a horrible idea as Adrian had been face-planted into your newly furnished wood floor.

Slowly one by one everyone slid into the house other than Leota who had decided to just take the fucking door like a normal human. It wasn’t like she was in a costume, why did it matter anyway?

After the team made it inside, you had rushed over to the window and helped carry Adrian into the living room.

“Just set him down on the couch.” You commanded.

Chris had laid Adrian down and winced as the man groaned in agony.

“I know baby, it will be over soon.” You shushed your boyfriend.

“I can’t do this! Adrian has a partner! And their hot!” John begins to yell.

“Can you not yell? Also, yes I am Adrian’s partner. Did he not tell you about me?” You begin to get self-conscious as you put gloves on your hands.

“No, he did. We honestly just didn’t believe him. I mean he’s-” Leota gestures to Adrian.

“Adrian. I get it, but he’s kind.” You smile.

“Awww, are you guys talking about me?” Adrian smiles.

“No, shut up.” You tease.

“You first.”

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