#I have had stitches for two weeks and if anything happened to him I would kill everyone and then myself

[fandoms-writings]

Little Shadow

Pairing: Halsin x Half-Elf!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.9K (oops)

Summary: You can always count on Halsin to heal the group when needed, going out of his way to make sure you're in the best care. And he's always been a flirt, but that's all it is, right?

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of injuries, blood, bruises (they're adventurers they're gonna get hurt sometimes), p in v, fingering, oral (fem receiving), mentions of Halsin having the potential to shift during sexual acts (iykyk)

A/N: thank you so so much to @banana-cheese-cake for beta reading for me and letting me talk about this so much ❤️ Also Happy Easter to those who celebrate ❤️

Halsin had always been impressed with the way you fought, the way you trained. You were so meticulous in the tiny details, the things no one else in your little band of misfits would notice. But it was those details that kept you alive, kept you the least harmed of your entire camp. Most of the time. 

The way you danced with your blade was unlike anything he'd ever seen before - and he'd been around for a couple centuries, so he'd seen his fair share of sword wielders and dagger throwers and magic casters. But you - you moved with such fluidity and lethal steadiness in your swings. 

The strength he'd seen in you while traveling with you these past weeks was something he marveled at. Especially with how young you were. 

You'd never told him directly, but from what he could gather, you were a half elf, which meant you had at least another century before you started to appear "aged" as the humans called it. That also meant that you had unbounded potential to grow in your skills. Though, he wasn't sure how much more you could learn. 

There was a rustle in the woods next to the camp, pulling him from his thoughts of you as he looked up. You'd gone out this morning with Karlach, Astarion, and Shadowheart to scout and clear the roads to move your camp closer to the city, so he figured you were finally returning. But you were making so much noise. You were usually quiet on your return to not startle those who stayed behind or attract any unwanted attention. 

As you barreled through the brush, Shadowheart limply hanging between you and Astarion and Karlach protecting your backs, Halsin's heart plummeted. 

You were covered in blood and your knees were shaking as the two of you dragged Shadowheart through the camp. Halsin ran for you, coming to a stop in front of you and taking the girl from your and Astarion's arms. 

He took Shadowheart to her tent, laying her down and beginning to heal what wounds he could see. You'd followed him, though he could sense the exhaustion pulling your body down as your feet stumbled after him. He watched as you began removing her armor, tugging the pieces off of her with shaky hands. 

He'd never seen your hands shake. He'd never seen you so calmly distraught. 

"What happened?" He asked, moving to a wound in the girl's abdomen. A gnarly gouge, likely from a hook horror or a gnoll. Shadowheart's body shifted as you tugged her boots off, throwing them in the pile of armor in the corner. 

"Gnolls," Your response was clipped, as usual, eyes locked onto the several cuts and gashes along your friend's skin. "I tried to protect her, but there were too many." He tried to show his surprise at the continued explanation. You usually stuck to one or two word answers around him, no matter how hard he tried to get more. "We almost didn't make it out with her." 

He hummed in response, watching as the wound stitched itself back together, the discoloration beginning to leave her skin. Once all of Shadowheart's armor was removed, you stood, mumbling about how you'd return quickly and you left. 

You were back only seconds later with a rag and a bucket, and you began cleaning the blood from your companions skin in the areas he's already healed. 

The two of you worked in silence until you were sure he'd healed every little scratch on Shadowheart before you both walked out of her tent, allowing her to rest until she woke on her own. You sighed and rolled your neck, your shoulders drooping as if you had weights tied to your arms pulling them down. 

"Are you injured?" Halsin asked, stepping toward you, but keeping his hands to himself. Through all the blood on you, he couldn't tell if any of it was yours, and if it was, where it came from. 

"I'll be fine, go help Astarion and Karlach," You demanded, your eyes looking past him at the setting sun. 

He moved to argue that you also needed attending to when you held up your hand, pushing it into his chest and giving him a weak shove. 

"Halsin," You whispered his name and his mind froze as you looked up at him, "Please." 

He let loose a breath before dipping his chin in a nod. The corner of your lips twitched up before falling back into a hard line. 

"Thank you." He watched as you turned from him, heading for your own tent as you began undoing the buckles of your leather armor, preparing to remove it. 

He'd do as you asked - he would go check on the others, make sure they were alright. Then, he'd check on you. He'd even have Astarion hold you down so he could heal you if he needed to. 

~~~

You huffed as you dropped your bloodied leather armor on the bank of the river near camp, kneeling down with a grunt as you began rinsing the blood from your clothing. The water of the river began to darken, reddening as you held your shirt in the stream, attempting to push out the blood before it dried. You were still covered in it, but armor was never cheap, and you weren't one to parade around in bloodied clothes any longer than necessary. 

Once you were satisfied with how clean you were able to get your clothes, you hung them on a tree branch hanging over the embankment to dry before removing your undergarments. The blood had soaked through to those as well. When they were hung next to your armor, you stepped into the river, hissing as the cold water bit at your ankles. 

It was a rather deep river, the water coming up to the bottom of your ribs once you reached the middle. You tried to scrub as you went, watching as it flaked off your skin and disappeared into the stream, revealing injuries you hadn't dared to acknowledge until now. 

There were gashes on your legs and arms, bruises littering your body, more coming to light as you scrubbed the blood and mud away. 

"Will you allow me to heal you now?" Halsin's voice sounded from behind you and you fought against the embarrassment of him catching you naked in the river as you folded your arms over your breasts. 

"I'm fine," you looked over your shoulder at him, the worry evident in his eyes as he stopped right at the water's edge. 

"You're bleeding."  

"I said I'm fine." You growled out, watching as his lips pressed into a hard line and he squatted down, picking up a twig to fiddle with as he looked at you.

"Why won't you let me help?" 

"Because I didn't ask you for it." You scowled, turning away from him and lowering yourself into the stream, holding in the hiss as the water rushed by, cleaning the cuts and scrapes along your arms. Before he could respond, you dunked your head, letting the cold water run through your hair, the current pulling as much of the blood and dirt out as it could without you scrubbing it. 

When you emerged, wiping the water from your face, Halsin had moved. 

He was maybe two feet from you, standing in the river still clothed, the water up to his hips and his trousers soaking it up, clinging to his muscled thighs. That worried look still plagued his face as he looked down at you, his brows pinched together and a heavy frown on his lips. 

"Why can I not offer my help to you?" He asked, his voice a low rumble. You fought the rush of nerves that flooded your system, using the day's anger to push them back down into the pit in your chest they'd crawled out from. 

"Because I am not in need of it." You sneered. You just wanted to be left alone, left to wallow in your self hatred and frustrations. Left to tend to yourself. To suffer. "I can take care of myself," You held his gaze with a glare, "Always have." 

"But you do not need to," He muttered, taking a small step toward you, "You are allowed to lean on your friends for assistance." 

You scoffed, looking away from him. "It was that type of thinking that cost us today." 

"I believe it is what saved you today." 

"You weren't there." The sound of Shadowheart's scream as the gnolls ripped her open would not be a sound you ever forgot. Or forgave yourself for. "They relied on me, leaned on me, to lead the way, to find a way to win and I fucked up." The anger bubbled in your chest, simmering as your eyes grew blurry, "I got cocky and moved too far too fast. A small group of beasts circled around to Shadowheart. I failed them." 

You were waiting for him to agree, to shout at you, to yell. But there was only silence. Hell, you weren't even sure he was still standing there as you continued, "I failed them, and I almost failed in getting them out. They relied on me and I let them down." Your hands came up to your shoulders, grazing over the injuries that had clotted there. 

"Is that why you refuse to let me heal you?" Halsin asked, the sounds of splashing water telling you he was moving. He appeared in front of you, kneeling down and letting the river wash over him without so much a shiver.  "Because you think you deserve it? As some sort of punishment?" 

You held his stare, your vision blurring as your anger bubbled in your throat. 

"Yes, you made a mistake, everyone does," He closed the distance between the two of you, but still not touching you, "but you still all made it out. You relied on each other to escape alive. You got them out." Your brows pinched as he spoke, "I talked with Karlach and Astarion, they told me how you fought tooth and nail to get to them, to help them.They credit their survival to you." 

"They're fools to do so," You whispered and he shook his head. 

"They are not," He stated, "You saved them today. You took care of them," He reached a hand out for you, waiting for you to take it, "Now let yourself be cared for. Let's not add to your collection of scars." 

You took a deep breath, trying to will the tears in your eyes to vanish before they fell. The words wobbled as they left your lips, "You're not going to leave me alone until you heal me, are you?" 

"If you truly wish for me to leave you alone, I'll go," His hand was still held between you, open and waiting. "But I don't believe you deserve more scars marring your perfect skin, or any sort of punishment." 

You took a deep breath, blaming the shuddering in your breath on the chill of the water as you lifted your hand out of the water and rested it in his own, palm up so he could see the cut there. "Okay." 

"Your skin is like ice," His warm calloused hand wrapped around yours as it glowed, your skin stitching back together, "Should we move to a tent?" 

Before you could deny him, your body shook with a harsh shiver running through your spine and you sighed. "Yes, please." 

He looked back to your clothes hanging over the tree, still dripping pink water. "I'll go get you a towel and some dry clothes." 

~~~

You sat in Halsin's tent, your damp hair clinging to your skin, his extra shirt drowning you. He hadn't wanted to go through your things, so he'd grabbed you some of his clothes and you didn't argue as you'd  slipped them over your head at the river bank. Your legs were bare, his shirt practically a dress on you, and it took all of his will power not to stare when you shifted where you sat across from him, the fabric of the shirt riding up your thighs. Your thighs that were burnt and bruised and sliced. 

He’d decided when finding you in that river, injuries on display, the blood leaking from your skin washed away by the freezing water, that he was going to leave tonight and let the bear inside him hunt down that pack of gnolls. 

He cleared his throat before gesturing to - well to all of you. “Where would you like me to start?” 

Your eyes, heavy with exhaustion, lifted to his. Your skin had grown paler by the hour and your body had become sluggish. He’d have picked a starting point himself but he knew not to rush or push you. 

You gestured to your arms as you held them out before him, palms up showing him the clotted slashes on your forearms. 

Halsin took your arms in each of his hands, the area glowing as he healed you. The next hour went on like that, you silently giving him parts of you to heal and him healing them without hesitation. By the time he’d finished, your normal tone had mostly returned to your face, but you were mostly asleep. 

Healing was not only tiring for the healer, but exhausting for the injured. He’d noticed your grit teeth, your subtle controlled breathing as your skin closed and knitted back together. He couldn’t blame you for slipping into a deep slumber as he finished the last wound on your shoulder, gently removing his hands so as to not wake you. 

Seeing you so relaxed, so calm, it was new to him. You’d always had a stoney expression, your lips set in a thin line and your brows settled almost permanently in a subtle scowl. But the lack of anger and sorrow in your feature now - well he wasn’t sure which version he was in love with more. 

Halsin pulled a blanket over you, stepping out of the tent to let you sleep. The rest of the camp had mostly retired for the night as well, only Astarion reading in his tent with the flap open. 

The vampire looked up at him with those red eyes, nodding in acknowledgment before returning his attention to whatever text was in his hands. 

The Druid slipped into the woods, walking for a while before he deemed he was far enough away. Far enough to not wake the camp, before he shifted, letting the bear begin its hunt. 

~~~

Leaves rustling nearby woke you, your eyes opening to see the unfamiliar inside of a tent. Your brows pinched as you sat up, a groan escaping your chest at the effort. Your body was exhausted, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you started to remember what had happened. How you got to be in this tent, in the shirt that hung from your frame. 

You remembered who put you there. 

Glancing around the tent for Halsin, you found you were alone. You didn't want to be the reason he didn't get to sleep tonight so you stood quickly, climbing for the entrance flap, reaching to push it open, when it slipped from your fingers. 

You peered up into the shadow looming over the entrance, and your body prepared for a fight. Their features were in heavy shadow as the campfire lit them from behind and there was a familiar iron rich smell coming from them. Blood. You just hoped whoever this was hadn't gotten to anyone else in your camp yet, that they were still alive. 

Your muscles tensed and you took a breath to shout, to wake up your companions if they were alive and warn them. But the figure held up a hand, his voice a low rumble that calmed your nerves instantly. 

"It's just me," Halsin said, slowly lowering himself into the tent, "I did not mean to startle you." 

You backed up, allowing him into the tent as your eyes traveled down his shirt, the red splotches hiding in the shadows. When you looked back up, you saw he had already figured out what you were looking at, and he could read the question on your lips.  

"It's not mine," He whispered, "I'm alright." 

"Whose is it?" You demanded, watching as he rummaged around for clean clothes. He pulled out a new pair of loose trousers. 

"The gnolls." He grunted, standing to leave. Your hand shot out to his, gripping his large fingers before he could leave. 

"You went after them?" 

He looked down at you, a slight smirk on his lips before his fingers squeezed yours back and he said, "Of course I did," as if it was the only logical thing for him to have done in the first place. His hand slipped from yours and just like that, he had slipped back out of the tent. 

You tried to follow him, but when you ripped the flap open, he was gone. You would have settled back into the warmth of the tent, shut that flap against the chill that pricked at your skin. But you stood, exiting the tent, and followed him down to the river. 

If he was going to wash up, that's where he'd go, unless he really wanted to hike another 3 miles to the next lake, which judging by the exhaustion in his eyes when he'd come for clean pants, you assumed he wouldn't. You hadn't bothered with shoes, and you cursed yourself for it as you tried to step around jutting up sticks and rocks that could slice your feet. 

Soon enough, the moonlight reflecting off of the river's surface was visible through the trees and you could hear the splashing of the water. Pushing the branches of the trees away, you finally broke free of the forest line and had river rocks beneath your feet. 

Halsin was in the middle of the river, scrubbing blood from his hair, just as you had done only hours before. 

"You'll catch a cold out here like that," He called to you, turning around to face you. 

"Why did you go after the gnolls?" You asked, crossing your arms across your chest, the movement reminding you how bare your legs were when the shirt shifted across your thighs. You tried not to bring attention to it, ignoring the chills that ran up your skin.

He looked down at the water as he rinsed his hands, "Does it matter?" 

"That depends entirely on how you answer the question." 

He glanced at you for a moment before dunking his head under the water, only to come right back up to the surface only a moment later. He sighed as he walked to the embankment, his dry pants hanging up on that same tree your earlier clothes still hung from. 

"Then it does not matter," He said, climbing out of the river, the water sliding down his chest, to his stomach, to his - you averted your eyes. You should've assumed he was naked, and you weren't sure why it made your heart start racing the way it did as you suddenly found the boulder next to you very interesting. 

"It does to me," You muttered, not expecting him to have heard you, to have been trying to hear you over the sounds of the river. 

Once his trousers were on, he turned to you, walking to stand at your side. "Would it be hard for you to believe that I did it because I wanted to?" 

You turned from the boulder, glancing at his feet to make sure he was clothed before your eyes trailed up his body, landing on his face. "You wanted to go on a midnight gnoll hunting spree?" 

He grunted in agreement, his head inclining to the side. "Is that hard to believe?" 

You scoffed, "Yes, actually. Especially because you went alone." 

"I can handle a pack of gnolls." He said the words with such certainty, his voice low and rough, it had your stuttering to respond. 

"It was reckless," You meekly muttered back, "You could've been hurt." 

"But I am not." Neither one of you had moved since he came to stand beside you, both of you remaining a mere few inches from the other.

"But you could have been." 

"Is that worry I sense in you, little shadow?" The nickname wasn't new, it was something he used to recall how you seemed to slip between darkness going undetected when tracking down leads or targets, but it also wasn't commonly used. He liked to use it when teasing you, flirting with you. But you were in no mood to flirt, and the only way to get him to see that, was to be honest. 

"Yes, it is." You stated, and the slight smirk that had grown on his lips fell as his eyes widened. "Why did you think it was a good idea to go hunt down those beasts without the rest of us, in the middle of the night? Hm?" 

He blinked once, twice, before sighing and looking at the ground beneath his feet, his hands finding their way to his hips. "I went because they harmed you," he said, and your world stilled. 

"What?" You asked, willing him to look at you again. He wiped a hand down his face before looking at you, his eyes full of nerves that he kept well hidden. 

"They hurt you," he sighed, reaching for your hands, "They almost killed you, and it angered me. It angered the beast that lives in my soul. I had to do something, and taking out on them the anger they caused was the only thing to do." 

Something in your chest melted at the conviction in his words, the utter dedication. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, to tell him he didn't need to do that, to fight for you. But in your experience, people only did these sorts of things when they wanted something in return. 

Your fingers tightened around his own, squeezing them as you took a breath, pushing down the swell in your heart at the look in his eyes. 

"What do I owe you?" You asked, trying not to cringe at the confusion in his pinched brows. 

"Why would you owe me?" 

"Because that's how the world works," you muttered, "Everything has a currency, whether it's gold, silver or favors. So what do I owe you? "

"You owe me nothing," his voice rumbled through your bones to your core, "I did not do this to gain a favor from you. I did this," He stepped closer, his breath mingling with yours, "because the thought of those beasts getting away with harming you is not something I can peacefully live with." 

"Why?" You read the confusion on his face and asked again, "Why? Why am I so important?" 

His hands dropped yours as they cupped your jaw, those large thumbs stroking across your cheeks and his fingers settled on your neck. 

"Because you are magnificent," His eyes were darting around your face, taking in every little detail while you allowed him to be this close, "You are the leader of this camp, everyone here follows you more than they follow themselves. You are the heart of this adventure we are on. You are fancied by everyone here." 

"I doubt that." 

"Well," He said, "I know I do." 

"No you don't." You whispered and his face pinched. "You don't, you might think you do, but you don't."

"Why don't I?" He asked, refusing to step away from you, your face still in his hands. 

You refused to look at him, your eyes locked on the water of the river just behind him. "You can't," You whispered, "Anyone who ever has ends up dead, if they don't leave me first." 

His face crumbled at that, hearing the ache of the past years of your life in your words. 

"Why would they leave you?" He asked, his voice barely audible over the river. 

You told him. You rambled about the horrible childhood you had, the early death of your human father, and the resentment in your elven mother when you were left on her doorstep. How you raised yourself, hunted for yourself, since she refused to have any hand in the way you were raised, including feeding you. You told him how you ran away when you were just a teenager and had been on your own ever since, for nearly two decades. 

Continuing your endless babble, you told him about the times you'd been captured by strange monsters throughout your travels, trying to leave out the details of what happened when you were held captive, but you knew he could piece it together. You explained how these things happening had made you cold, and shut off from the world, damaged, when you were silenced by something soft pressing against your lips. 

Your eyes were wide when Halsin pulled away just a second later, his lips parted as he looked at you. There were a million things either of you could've said, but your mind was blank now. The lingering pressure of his lips on yours distracting you from the wetness you now felt on your face. 

When did you start crying? 

You tore your gaze from his lips up to his eyes, where they watched you with such gentleness it frightened you. The want - no, the need - to have his lips on yours again was the only thing you could focus on now that you'd had a taste, and you would jump up to take it for yourself if the intensity in his gaze didn't root you to your spot. 

"I know what I enjoy," He whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, his breath fanning your face as his wet hair fell around you, "and I know what I want." 

He didn't close the distance, instead letting your lips faintly brush while you tried to say something, anything. 

"And if you'll let me," He continued, "I'd like to enjoy what I want for as long as you'll allow." 

"Why don't you just take it?" You whispered. 

"I'm waiting for your permission." 

Silence settled over the two of you for a moment, the only noise between you being your mingling breaths. You took the moment to consider it, letting him have his way with you. You hadn't planned on fucking any of your traveling companions, attempting to keep it professional between all of you, but you couldn't deny that you'd at least thought about it. Not just with Halsin either, but that was something for another day. 

You'd thought about his hands on your skin, how large and safe they'd feel, how his fingers would feel in your cunt, in your mouth, wrapped around your neck. All you had to do was say yes, and he'd give it to you. 

So you swallowed your nerves, your voice barely audible as you whispered, "You have it."  

Halsin instantly closed that tiny fraction of distance, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands left your face, going down preferring to pull your hip, tugging you into him as his lips parted, his tongue brushing against yours. You swallowed his groan as his large hand pushed the edge of your shirt up so he could cup your ass, grabbing all he could and squeezing. 

His right hand left your face, reaching down to mirror his left and he tugged up, grunting what sounded like "jump" between kisses. Your hands wound around his neck as you did your best to hop, letting him catch you and pull you up his body, pinning you between his chest and the smooth boulder at your back. 

The hair on his stomach brushed against the insides of your thighs, tickling in the best way, the pressure from his stomach pushing into your cunt, only separated by the thin fabric of your panties that were already wet.  

Halsin's lips left your mouth and he trailed open kisses down your neck and what he could reach of your chest, biting and sucking as he went, lighting your nerves on fire at the same time. HIs hands easily pushed you further up the boulder, bringing your dripping core up to his view and putting your legs over his shoulders.

His eyes were hungry as he glanced between you and that soaked spot in your panties. His lips attached to your leg, working their way up your inner thigh, each bite he climbed higher earning more and more desperate whines from you. He chuckled at the noises escaping your throat as he looked up at you, his eyes glazed over with lust, but also so so clear at the same time. 

"Is this okay?" You'd never heard his voice so rough, so raw as he looked up at you. "We can always go somewhere more comfortable." 

Something in your chest melted at the concern in his words. Even when his hands were shaking and his pupils were blown, your comfort was priority. But you didn't care if he took you in his tent or a bed or against this damn boulder, you just needed to feel him. 

"It matters not to me," you were breathless as you told him, "I just want you to show me how much you say you want me." 

He smirked at that, one of his hands dragged over your skin as he slid it under your shirt, reaching to grab your breast as his other pulled your panties aside. 

He laid his tongue flat against your aching cunt and licked a languid stripe up, flicking it across your clit before going back for more. Your hands shot to his hair, still wet from the river, carding through it and gripping it at the roots. His hand on your breast pulled and played with your nipple, the sensation caused by his rough fingers shooting through you to your core, soaking his face even more. 

You watched him from up on that rock, his face buried in you, his eyes closed as if he were savoring it. A moan vibrated from him, through your cunt that left you gnawing on your lip to keep quiet. You weren't close to the campsite, but who knew what or who else was out in these woods. 

Your breath started to quicken, your grip on his hair tightening further, and his eyes opened to look at you. You could barely see the hazel in his eyes as he watched you panting and writhing above him. The pressure building was familiar and you knew it wouldn't take long for you to snap if he kept going the way he was

It seemed he knew too. 

Because suddenly, his mouth was off of you and your skin was met with the chilled air. 

"Can't have you cumming just yet," He declared, his hand leaving your chest and trailing down to your cunt, lightly dragging through the folds and slick. Your hips bucked into his hand and he chuckled, "Eager?" 

Your skin heated at his comment and how focused on your dripping entrance he was. When your breathing had somewhat evened out, two of his fingers circled your cunt, spreading your slick around and around before he finally looked up at you, and slid them in. 

Your mouth opened in a strangled moan that you had fought to not let out, the stretch just from his fingers alone enough to make you dizzy with want. They slid all the way in before they curled, stroking that perfect spot to make your back arch and your moan grew louder. 

Halsin grinned, "Oh I love that sound you make." He angled his head down again, watching his fingers get swallowed by your cunt over and over again as he pumped them in and out. "And I love watching my fingers disappear inside you." 

His head dipped lower, and his lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue tracing tight circles over it in time with his fingers. That pressure from earlier began building again, quicker this time as you struggled to stay somewhat quiet. You tugged on his hair and your hips rocked, grinding into his mouth and fingers, his name a whisper on your lips. 

"Don't stop," You panted, release so close your muscles began tightening, "please don't stop." 

He groaned into you, the vibrations shooting through everyone of your nerves and your head fell back with a soft thud against the rock. The band that had tightened in your core was so close to snapping, to sending you over the edge.

But before you could go over that edge, Halsin released your clit and pulled his fingers from you, chuckling at the truly pathetic whine that left your lips, tears starting to gather in your lashes at the sudden loss. 

"Don't worry," he muttered the words into the skin of your thigh before moving both your legs off his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist, "You'll get to cum," He leaned forward, catching your lips with his, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, "I promise." 

He wrapped his hands around your thighs, telling you to wrap your arms around his neck and he picked you up from the boulder. He didn't take you far, just turned and leaned down, laying you on the river bank before sitting up, his hands going to the ties on his trousers. 

"I've dreamed of this since I met you," he declared as he untied his trousers. Your eyes traveled down his chest to the large bulge he was working to free, and your cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. "I've been wanting to take you for weeks." 

A shiver of excitement raced down your spine, "So have I." 

His eyes darkened at that, his hands quickening their pace and he finally removed his pants. He reached for your hips, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them to the side. He grabbed the edge of your shirt, but stopped, looking at you. 

"It's a bit cold out, do you want to leave this on?" Your heart melted at his concern, at his ability to still worry even when he was so close to getting what he wanted. 

"I want to feel all of you against me," you said, a thought taking over your mind, "but I also want to be on top. I want to ride you." 

He grinned down at you as you shifted to sit up, "You can do whatever you wish to me." 

You smiled, crawling over his legs as he sat and lay on the ground, sighing when your legs settled on either side of his hips, your core hovering over his aching cock. He slid his hands under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, tossing it to the pile of clothes before his hands dragged down your shoulders and over your breasts before resting against your hips. 

"Gods, you're beautiful," he said, his thumbs stroking circles into your hips as your hand reached down, wrapping around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his head tipping back as you stroked it up and down. 

You angled your hips and lined him up with your cunt, swiping him through your folds a few times, relishing in how his grip tightened on your hips. You went to sink on to him, to finally have him inside you, when he startled. 

"Wait." His eyes snapped open. "I have to tell you something first."  Your brows pinched, but you let his cock go, and you settled on top of it, sliding your hips back and forth over it while you waited for whatever he had to tell you. "Fuck, you're not gonna make this easy are you?" He smirked. 

You shook your head, swallowing your moans as you waited. 

"If I get too worked up, I have a. . . a chance to shift," He said, eyes avoiding yours. You angled your head to the side, as your heart stuttered at the sudden anxiety rippling off of him. You'd never seen him so nervous, he was always so sure of himself, of what he did.

"You mean," You whispered, "You could change into a bear?" There was shame in his eyes as he nodded. 

"I understand if you change your mind about this, I won't be hurt." He still wasn't meeting your eyes as he spoke, his hands unnaturally still before they started to pull away from you. 

Your hands snapped out to grab his wrists, pulling his hands back to your skin as you lifted your hips up. His eyes finally lifted to yours in surprise when you reached down to again grip his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance. 

"Are you too exhausted to heal if necessary?" You asked, your voice low and sultry as you waited for a reply. 

The corners of his lips twitched up, and the worry for him in your heart ebbed away for now, "I'm never too exhausted to heal you." 

"Then it matters not," You pushed down on to him, moaning at the stretch, "I like a challenge." 

He moaned as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes locked on to where his cock disappeared into you. When you were all the way to the base, you began slowly rocking your hips as you adjusted to his size, watching him as his eyes closed and his head tipped back again, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. 

"Gods," he sighed, "You feel so good wrapped around me like this." 

When the sting of the stretch turned into a burning need, you lifted your hips, dragging off of him about half way before sinking back down. You braced your hands on his chest, gripping the hair there as you angled your hips and drove them down, hitting that spot that had you unable to bite down your moans. 

"You're going to wake up the camp moaning like that, little shadow," He grunted below you, "Do you wish to be found out here like this?" 

Your cunt clenched around him, and he moaned a laugh. 

"Oh, you like that idea?" He asked, his breath coming in hot pants as you leaned over him. "You like the idea of one of them finding you like this? Maybe they'd want to join, hm?" 

The thought of one of your companions finding you two, and wanting to join you, the thought of another pair of hands on you tore a loud moan from your throat and he grinned, his hands helping your hips keep their rhythm. 

"You do like that," he mused, his eyes starting to glow gold, "Oh fuck - " He grit his teeth, pushing down that need to shift as you fucked yourself on his cock. But he couldn't hold in all of it. 

His body grew a bit, the muscles stretching under your hands, but you didn't stop. The rhythm of your hips faltered as your climax grew closer and you were thankful he was helping you keep it, his hands lifting and slamming your hips down for you. 

You felt the stretch before realizing what was happening - his cock grew as he tried to hold in the shift. The sudden added length and girth sending you over the edge, everyone of your muscles tightening as your vision went white and your blood roared in your ears. You were sure you screamed, but there was a hand over your mouth, one that smelled of your own arousal. 

Halsin kept slamming your hips onto him, hitting that spot over and over and over. You felt his legs shift as he planted his feet on the floor and suddenly you were tugged down. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding your face in his shoulder where you bit down to keep quiet, and his other arm wrapped around your back. 

He slammed up into you, chasing his own release but also ripping a second one from you. You bit hard into his skin, your lips vibrating against his shoulder as you shouted at your second orgasm, your cunt clenching his cock as he stilled, spilling into you. 

Halsin’s body twitched as he shouted into your neck, his hold tightening on you, squeezing the breath out of you. Your mouth released his shoulder, instead placing gentle kisses along his skin as his body began to shrink back to its normal size. 

"Are you alright?" He whispered into your cheek, dragging his lips over what he could reach of your face. You hummed and nuzzled your nose into his neck. 

"I'm alright," You mumbled, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on you. "Just. . . just tired." 

He chuckled, stroking the back of your head and tracing patterns over the expanse of your back. "Go to sleep, little shadow, I'll dress you and carry you back to camp." 

You let out a sleepy giggle, "What if I woke them?" 

"If they'd heard your scream when you came, they would've run down here already," He pulled back so he could try to look down at you. "But I think I caught it in time." 

"I guess you did," You words started to slur as sleep started to take you. 

"Maybe we should ask one of them to join next time, just to keep you quiet," He murmured, smirking at the way you moaned at the thought, your hips trying to grind down on him. "Oh yes, I think next time we'll see if one of them will join us." 

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#halsin x reader #halsin fanfic #halsin fanfiction #halsin smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #fandoms-writings #fanfiction #halsin x fem!reader #fem!reader

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

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There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

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thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #vampire!Eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #myo4munson

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is used to feeling comfortable around you, so when he arrives home and things feel strained, he wants to understand why. The more you tell him about what has you so upset, the more he wants to try to fix everything. But you don't know if he can do anything to mend your confidence.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Nat called and texted the next day to check in with you and Noah. It didn't matter how many times you lied and told her that you were just fine, she said she wanted to be sure. But you knew you were barely holding on, and the next two days without Bradley were going to be really hard. 

Because now it wasn't just the USB drive. It was also your hand. And the broken glass. And the way Noah cried. You were currently curled up in Bradley's bed with Noah sound asleep in your arms, and you didn't even want to go to work tomorrow. Your hand was aching, and the gash looked terrible. Even though you had done your best with it, you knew you should have gone for stitches. But you also knew it was too late for that now.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to keep Noah in bed with you for the night. You opened up your email one more time with the arrival instructions from Bradley even though you had them memorized. But you didn't want to mess this up. 

When you got to work the next morning, while you were still trying to decide if you should report the break in, another layer of embarrassment was added. Dr. Kelly pulled you aside and glanced down at your hand as she said, "Would you like me to take a look at that?" 

You'd done a pretty terrible job of bandaging it up on your own. "Sure," you said softly, and she unwrapped it and winced.

"This didn't happen at work, did it?"

"No," you replied quickly. "At home."

She met your eyes with startled ones. "This is a nasty, irregular cut. You live with your boyfriend, correct?" When you nodded, she added, "If there's any sort of issue with... violence at home, please know that you can always come to me."

Your jaw dropped open, and you gasped. "No! He's not even here, he's deployed! It was an accident!"

"Okay," she said right away. "I believe you. Let me get it cleaned up. It's looking angry, and you should have probably gone somewhere for stitches over the weekend."

Instead of responding, you silently followed her to one of the exam rooms where she carefully disinfected your palm and applied an adhesive that would work on your skin. "I can reapply it later this week for you."

"Thanks." As you got back to work, you were starting to think you should have reported the incident with the police. Panic rose inside you as you were instructed to prepare some vaccination syringes for the ten year old in exam room five. 

Should you wait until Bradley got home on Wednesday? Should you call the police after work today? Your cut up hand was bad enough, but Noah could have been the one who got hurt. And you'd honestly never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to him. You had protected him from Meredith in the park, so why was this any different?

You rushed back to Bradley's house after work and ran inside, completely exasperated by his old man tendencies. You had to search for the list of phone numbers he gave you which would have been much better if he just saved them to your contacts in your phone.

Noah needed to be picked up in the next forty minutes, and you didn't know how long she would be in her office, but you tried to reach Tracy anyway. When you gave your name to her receptionist, you were shocked that he put you right through to Bradley's lawyer.

"I hope Bradley thanked you for me. The Red Bulls were very sweet of you."

You laughed at Tracy in spite of the fact that you felt like crying. "It's the least I could do." Then you took a deep breath and said, "I was wondering if there is any way you can help me? I don't want to end up with Bradley having to pay you if you give me advice over the phone or anything like that. But I think I need some help right now even though he should be back on Wednesday."

"Your boyfriend basically has me on retainer for you. What do you need?" Tracy asked.

"Retainer?" you asked. No, that couldn't be right.

"I was given explicit instructions to help you with anything you might call about. We're not going to worry about any billing, because he certainly wasn't worried, okay? What can I do for you?"

You sucked in a deep breath as you paced around the kitchen. You felt defeated. That damn USB drive was on top of the refrigerator. The coffee machine you could barely figure out how to use was on the counter. The list of phone numbers in Bradley's handwriting was on the table. So you walked out back and forced yourself to say, "I think Meredith broke into my rental which I had already moved out of. And I saw her at a gas station before that."

There was a long enough pause that you were about to repeat yourself, but then she said, "I think that if she did break into your rental, it was purely out of spite. Because I actually have some news about Meredith that I was waiting to tell Bradley. But I think you and I should have a conversation first, and then you should decide if you want to call the police."

---------------------------

Bradley just wanted to get off this aircraft carrier. He had one night left in this fucking bunk with Carl, and then he could go home to his cozy house and sweet son and your warm, welcoming body. Maybe you'd let him snuggle with you and Noah on the couch, and then after Noah's bedtime, he could take you to bed. He couldn't stop thinking about every single way he wanted to have you. And then he could fall asleep with you wrapped up in his arms and your soft breath on his skin.

He was almost getting hard just thinking about it. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to, someone who was waiting just for him. He felt like he wanted to reward you for it. God, he wanted to give you everything. He had to tuck his hands up behind his head in his bunk and force himself to try to go to sleep. But he dreamed about your voice and your fingertips on his face.

The following day went quickly as they docked in the afternoon. Once he was able to text you, Bradley was pleased to see that you were more responsive.

I'm docked, Princess. We got in a little early, but I haven't deboarded yet. I know you're at work, but I can't wait to see you whenever you can come pick me up.

My Princess: I'll be there by four with Noah. We missed you so much!

When he was able to finally collect his things and start down the ramp, Bradley's heart was thudding in his ears. It wasn't four o'clock yet, and he knew he might have to wait for you to get there, but then he was pleasantly surprised. As he started walking along the fence to the parking lot, he spotted his Bronco in the last aisle. You had parked it away from everything and everything else, and that brought a smile to his face. 

And then he saw you, carrying Noah and hurrying toward him in your new work scrubs that he hadn't even seen yet. A smile broke out on his face as he rushed to close the distance. "Noah! Princess!"

"Daddy!" Noah squealed with delight, practically jumping from your arms to his. Bradley wrapped Noah up in his right arm and kissed him all over his face, reaching for you at the same time with his free hand. "I love you, Bub. Did you have fun with Princess?"

But you hesitated. And when Bradley met your eyes, he was still reaching for you, but you were only very slowly stepping toward him. "Come here," he rasped, slipping his arm around your waist until you were snug at his side. "I love you." Those words seemed to do the trick as you melted against him, and your chin tipped up as you looked at him.

"I missed you so much," you told him, your voice soft and maybe a little sad? And Bradley kissed you hard and heady in front of everyone including Noah, letting his hand rest on the swell of your butt. He didn't care. You belonged with him. He wanted you there forever. 

But even though you were clinging to his uniform shirt now and returning his kisses with a soft moan, he could tell you were holding back. He trailed a few kisses along your jaw back toward your ear and whispered, "I love you, Baby," and you shivered for him. But when he reached for your hand, he found it was bandaged up. And you looked at him with barely concealed frustration. He could just tell something was wrong. 

"What happened?" he asked, repositioning Noah in his arm and letting his son's cheek rest on his shoulder. He kissed your fingers and ran his thumb along the bandage. "What's wrong with your hand?"

You tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "Can we talk about it later? Tonight?"

"Yeah," he agreed, suddenly even more apprehensive. "We can."

"Great," you replied, leading the way to the Bronco with your fingers loosely tangled with his. And while Bradley walked with his lips pressed to his son's forehead and his duffle bag on his back, he was worried about you. 

You were still quiet when the three of you pulled into the driveway and headed inside. "I have a lasagna ready to go in the oven," you told Bradley when he followed you into the kitchen. "Should we start doing your laundry?"

He laughed softly as he put Noah down in one of the chairs and dropped his bag to the floor. "Princess," he whispered, reaching for your soft cheek. "Baby, I don't care about my laundry. I don't even really care about dinner, but I love that you have something ready to go. I just want you to tell me what's bothering you."

He watched you swallow hard, and he thought he saw your eyes dart toward the top of the refrigerator. "Bradley," you muttered.

"You know I thought about you nonstop, right?" he whispered, remembering how it felt to have his fist connect with Carl's face as he made sure he got his polaroid back. "On repeat. I just wanted to be home." He kissed your lips over and over again, stroking your soft skin with his thumb. "So I'll take care of whatever has you upset. You know I will."

You just nodded and let your eyes flutter closed. And all you offered him was one word. "Later."

After dinner was eaten and cleaned up, Bradley spent some extra time giving Noah a bath. The tub was absolutely filled with toys, and Bradley ended up removing his soaking wet undershirt, kneeling on the floor in just his underwear and service khakis. "I missed you so much," he said, kissing his son over and over again. "But I know you had fun with Princess."

Noah held out a green duckie for Bradley to take before he said, "I want Princess to be my mommy." 

Bradley met brown eyes that matched his, and he easily said, "I do too, Bub. She would be really good at it." You already were good at it. But something was wrong, and he needed to figure it out. The two of you weren't acting the way he had hoped you would after being apart for weeks. And now he was questioning whether or not you'd actually want to marry him someday.

It was late. Definitely after Noah's usual bedtime. He was yawning now, but Bradley had been so excited to see him, he let him stay up. With one more big yawn, Bradley scooped his son out of the tub with a towel and drained the water. Then he stopped in the living room where you were sitting on the couch, and he let Noah give you a goodnight kiss. And he leaned down and kissed your cheek as well. "I'll be back out in a minute. We'll talk."

"Okay," you said softly, and then Bradley was thankful that Noah was already falling asleep as soon as he was in bed. On his way back out to the living room, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of merlot and a bag of Skittles he had stashed away. 

After he opened the bottle and took a sip, he met you in the living room. Your gaze took in his naked torso as you bit your lip, and when he handed you the wine with no glass, you took a sip from the bottle as well. 

"Let's talk?" he asked, settling down next to you. He opened the bag of candy and patted his thigh. "And snuggle? I've been saving the wine and Skittles for our reunion, but you'll have to remind me which color goes best with merlot."

He could tell you were trying not to smile as you scooted across the couch and onto his lap while you sipped the wine. "Red, Daddy. Red Skittles pair with merlot."

"Yes," he rasped, kissing the side of your neck. "That's right. Now that I'm all yours again, just like I'm supposed to be, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

You handed him the bottle in favor of the candy, and you crunched on a few pieces before you said, "I moved all of my stuff in. And I used your address for my new hire paperwork."

Bradley had to hold back a moan. That sounded so fucking perfect to him, he wanted to take you on the floor right now, right in the middle of the area rug. But instead he just tightened his arm around your waist. "Mmhmm, you know just want to say to make me happy. And you did so great with Noah. I knew you would be perfect, Princess."

But then you met his eyes and held up your bandaged hand. "I had to call Tracy on Monday," you said, and Bradley's heart dropped. 

"Why?"

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the bottle of wine before taking it from his hand and drinking some more. "I saw Meredith at the gas station near Noah's daycare," you whispered, your voice soft and harsh. 

"She broke the restraining order?" he growled. "What the fuck?"

"It was just a gas station," you replied quietly. "And I think she was already there when I pulled in." Bradley was about to rage, but then you kept going. "But then someone broke into my rental, and I cut my hand when Noah was with me. And it must have been Meredith, so I called Tracy, because you weren't here, and I wasn't sure what to do." When you took a deep breath there was a little sob with it that made Bradley clench with the need to protect you. 

"Shit! I wish you didn't have to do this by yourself," he replied, heart skipping faster. "But I'm proud of you. What did Tracy say about Meredith?"

"She helped me file a police report, and they said they are looking for evidence, but my landlord is pissed off that the window is broken. He was supposed to have a new renter move in this week, and he's threatening me about paying for another month. He told me to fix the glass, but the police won't even let me. And you and I are supposed to go meet up with Tracy tomorrow." You hiccupped when you finished talking. 

"Shh," Bradley said, setting the bottle down on the end table and pulling you to his body so your cheek came to rest on his chest. "Baby, I'll take care of it. But back up, and go slow. Did Meredith threaten you or Noah?"

You shrugged against his body, and Bradley focused on every single word you had to say about the gas station and your broken windowpane and the note that was left. And how the police and Tracy both agreed that there's probably not enough evidence to prove anything one way or the other. And then you seemed wrung out as a tear slid down your cheek when you said, "Tracy did tell me that Meredith was on trial for the fraud charges I brought up against her during the custody hearing. When I saw her at the gas station, she told me I ruined her life. And then my window was smashed, probably just because she's such a horrible bitch."

"Make sense," he mumbled against your hair. No wonder he had several unread emails from Tracy that he knew he still needed to go through. Shit. You'd dealt with an awful lot in his absence. He wondered if that meant Meredith was being sentenced. "And we have an appointment with Tracy tomorrow?"

"Yes," you whispered, curling up tighter against his body. "During my lunch break."

"Okay." He kissed your forehead and ran his hands up and down your back. "I'm still off tomorrow. I'll drop you off at work in the morning, and then I'll come back for you whenever you want. And we'll go talk to Tracy, and I promise you, I will take care of everything." You were practically shaking as he added, "Because you take care of us."

You were nodding as you finally looked up at him, and as angry as Bradley was about more bullshit from Meredith, you and Noah were safe. And Tracy would probably have more information for him tomorrow. But right now, you needed someone to take care of you for a minute. "I love you," he promised, considering how exhausted you looked. "Let's take a shower and get in bed?"

Whether you were nodding in agreement or because you were still shaky, Bradley wasn't sure. But he carried you into the bathroom and set you down gently as he turned the shower on. Once you were undressed he helped you in and carefully unwrapped the bandage on your hand. There was a jagged cut on your palm that made his heart lurch. "I'll clean it and rebandage it, Princess," he said, trying to hide the anger in his voice. You didn't deserve any of the shit you'd repeatedly gone through since you met him.

"Okay," you whispered, and as soon as he was out of his khakis and underwear, you were pulling him in with you. Bradley was helpless in his feelings for you. Very carefully, he took his time and washed you so you didn't irritate your cut further. And he let himself just enjoy the feel of your body against his as he gently held your hand.

When he turned the shower off, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to the bedroom. Everything looked exactly as it should: your purple crown was on his bedpost, everything was tidy, and the bed looked inviting. But you still didn't look relaxed as he helped you into his gray sweatpants and a soft undershirt before bandaging your hand again.

"What will make you feel better?" he asked, pulling on clean underwear as you climbed into bed. "Tell me, and I'll do it. I just want you to know how much I missed you and how happy I am that you moved all your stuff in while I was away."

You peeled the blanket back on his side of the bed and whispered, "Snuggle with me?" 

You looked so perfect and innocent, and Bradley slid in bed with you and collected you in his arms. "Come here, Baby. Let me tell you how much I love you."

----------------------------

You started to fall asleep in Bradley's arms while he rubbed small circles on your back through his undershirt which you were wearing. You had been on the brink of erupting into tears all night, and you hadn't even mentioned the USB drive. And now that he was home, you didn't know if you were strong enough to bring it up at all. 

If he knew it was in that box in the attic, then you were going to make a fool of yourself. And if he forgot about its existence, he was going to think you were snooping through his things even though he gave you permission to use the attic. Either way, you weren't going to mention it, at least not yet. 

There were too many other things to think about anyway. Like whether or not the police found anything in your rental. And how you were going to fix the window. And if Meredith was actually going to attempt something with you or Noah, or if she was just bitter that she might be facing jail time. 

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley's arm tightened around you as he kissed the top of your head.

"Just sleep, Baby. I'll be right here."

As you dozed off, you realized you didn't have to be on full alert at the moment. For the first night in so long, you could just sleep and know he was with you and Noah. And then you were out. 

Next thing you knew, it was light inside the bedroom, and Bradley was waking you up with gentle kisses on your face. You reached for him, and then his body weight was on top of you as he chuckled. "Baby, we'll be late."

"Good, I want to stay in bed all day," you whined, but soon you were dressed in your scrubs and making breakfast while Bradley got Noah ready for daycare. You hated the way you felt like you were holding back being as physical as you wanted to be with your boyfriend. 

And then a flash of panic shot through you. He must have been expecting you to have sex with him last night, when instead you fell asleep as a bundle of nerves. You were still a bundle of nerves, but now you felt like crying as well. But he was acting so normal when he brought Noah into the kitchen to eat pancakes. "Just leave the mess in the sink, and I'll take care of it later," he said casually, reaching for your good hand to give you another kiss. 

But you were thinking about the USB drive, and your meeting with Tracy and your job. And you barely kissed him back this time. "Okay," you agreed before picking at your breakfast. 

Bradley looked concerned now, and he continued to look concerned a little later as he pulled into Noah's daycare parking lot. "I can take him in," you muttered, but he had already turned off the Bronco's engine. 

"Let's go together," he replied, eyeing you skeptically as he climbed out to get Noah. And when you were walking in, side by side, Bradley asked, "Will you tell me what else is on your mind?"

You just shook your head, because you didn't want to get into this right now. But he took your hand anyway.  And of course the same girl was working at the front desk with her clipboard. 

"Lieutenant Bradshaw! Good morning!"

"Hi, Casey," he replied smoothly, his fingers laced with yours. 

"How was your deployment? We really missed you here." She gave you some serious side eye, and you just knew she wished you weren't even around.

"It was fine," he replied, setting Noah down and kissing him. And then Noah turned to you for a hug before he walked back to the playroom. Then Bradley tugged you a little closer to him and wrapped his arm around you before signing the clipboard with the back of your body snug up against the front of his. He kissed your neck while Casey watched. "Let's go before you're late for work, Princess," he whispered next to your ear. 

He handed the clipboard to Casey without even looking at her, and you were so mixed up inside, you wanted to scream. Five minutes ago, you were dreading the idea of being intimate with Bradley without showing him the USB drive first, and now you wanted to fuck him in the front seat of the Bronco.

"Listen," he said, voice stern as he pulled out into traffic and headed toward your medical complex. "Something is bugging you. I want you to be honest with me. After we talk to Tracy together, you and I are having a conversation later today. And by the end of that conversation, I want you and I to feel the way we are supposed to feel again. Because you moved all your stuff into the house, which I think is us officially taking the next step in our relationship. And I'm used to feeling comfortable when I'm with you. Okay?"

You pressed your lips together. There was no getting around it now. "Yes."

-----------------------------

"I really like Tracy and all, but I was hoping I'd never have to come here again," Bradley said as you and he rode the elevator up to her office. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, running your hands down the front of your now wrinkly scrubs. "It's probably my fault."

Bradley did a double take. "Your fault? How would this possibly be your fault, Baby?"

You sighed and exited the elevator, and Bradley just wanted you to look happy again. "Because I'm the one who mentioned all of Meredith's insider trading and shady deals in the first place."

"Hey," he said, leading you down the hallway with his hand at your back. "This is one hundred percent Meredith's fault. And the fraud charges were probably coming whether or not we said anything about it during the custody hearing."

Then Tracy's receptionist was waving the two of you past his desk without question, and Bradley thought that was either a very good or a very bad sign.

"Meredith is in custody," Tracy announced as soon as her office door was closed behind Bradley. 

You gasped and said, "She's in prison."

"Yes. Now have a seat," she replied, pointing to the small conference table. "Because we have some things to discuss. Welcome home, Bradley." Then she set down a copy of Meredith's mugshot and arrest information.

"What a warm welcome," he muttered, skimming the paperwork. "She turned herself in?"

"She did," Tracy told him, taking the empty seat across the table and cracking open a Red Bull. "Probably broke the window at your place for fun as her last hurrah before turning herself in."

"Did the police find anything?" you asked her. "My landlord is so mad about the window."

Tracy just kind of shrugged. "Like I told you before, it's probably a lost cause. Nobody picked anything up on a doorbell camera, and it's impossible to tell exactly when it happened since you haven't actually been living there for a few months." You nodded, and then Tracy asked, "But if they do find evidence, would you like to press charges?"

"No," you replied immediately, and Bradley leaned in a little closer.

"Are you sure? We can absolutely press charges if you want to."

"Come on, Bradley," you said quietly, even though Tracy could still hear. "I don't want to cost you any more money. And I can't afford Tracy on my own." 

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he leaned in even closer to you. How many times had the two of you had this fucking conversation? Too many for him to keep track of, and it annoyed him every single time. "Look at me," he whispered when you started to turn away. As soon as you met his eyes again, he kissed you softly. But his voice was rough around the edges as he said, "I would defend you with my life. Why would my money be any different? Why is that the thing that is always too much for you?"

With a soft gasp, you gaped at him. "Your life?"

"Yes, of course," he said, brow furrowed. "So I really need you to stop making a fuss about everything else. Because it doesn't matter compared to you. Or compared to Noah. Or compared to us. And I'm getting pretty fucking sick of having this conversation over and over again with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chanced a glance at Tracy, but she was simply scrolling on her phone now. And he could hear tears in your voice as you said, "Money isn't as important as you either."

"Exactly," he growled, holding you tight. "Fuck, Princess... don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry. But if you want to press charges, if there's even a reason to press charges, I will gladly pay for Tracy. She's expensive as hell, because she's very good."

"That's right," Tracy murmured, still scrolling.

You pulled away from him and kissed his scarred cheek a few times before you said, "Can I think about it? I mean, Meredith was probably just acting like a petty bitch because she could."

"We can wait for a police report," Tracy supplied, setting down her phone. "And I can get more information about Meredith as well."

You nodded and looked up at Bradley. "That's what I want to do."

"Then that's what we'll do," he agreed right away. 

"Tracy, do you know when I'll be able to replace the window? My landlord is threatening me with another month of rent."

She just snorted. "Send me a copy of your lease agreement. I'll make him cry."

When the three of you stood, Bradley could tell you seemed more relaxed, and he kissed the now dry tears from your cheek. "How much do I owe you for today?" Bradley asked Tracy as he took your bandaged hand in his.

"No worries. I'll bill you."

"Worth every cent," Bradley told you once again as you rode the elevator back down. 

You had your head resting on his chest as you pulled out your phone, and he could see your screen as you said, "Dr. Kelly texted me. She told me to just take the rest of the afternoon for myself."

"Do you want to head home?" he asked as you tucked your phone away again.

"Yeah, I'll make us lunch."

"Perfect," he replied. "And then we can talk."

And you seemed fine on the way home, changing radio stations in the Bonco and talking about how you hoped Meredith would have to serve the full fifteen years she was being threatened with. Bradley didn't really give much of a fuck about Meredith as long as you felt safe and happy. As long as things went back to normal for the three of you. 

But as soon as you walked into the kitchen, you seemed apprehensive once again. He watched you carefully get some butter and cheese out of the refrigerator, claiming you were in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich. But then you tossed everything onto the counter and spun to face him. 

"I can't take it any more, okay?" You were nearly shouting at him, fists clenched at your sides. Your pretty face was all pinched like you were in pain. 

"What?" Bradley asked, rushing to you. "What's wrong?" And then he saw one rogue tear streak down your cheek. Something was making you cry again, and he needed to know what it was. 

"She's so many things that I know are horrible, but she's also so many things that I wish I could be... but I'm just not." You took a deep breath and reached up on your tiptoes to take something down from the top of the refrigerator. "I just want to know why it's here, okay?" you asked him, your hands shaking as you reached out with a blue USB drive on your bandaged palm. "Just don't lie to me about why you have this, Bradley. I know it's a few years old, but I just don't understand why you had it in the attic with Noah's baby clothes."

He took it in his own hand, and it seemed familiar. When he looked up and met your eyes, you were crying and trying to swipe the tears away. "I'm confused..." 

You pointed at his laptop which was charging on the table, and said, "Just tell me the truth," as you sobbed. 

Bradley opened the computer and tried to keep a wary eye on you at the same time. But as soon as he inserted the USB drive and the folder automatically opened up, he heard you softly say, "I can't," before you rushed out of the room. 

He was still baffled as he tapped on the video thumbnail. And then he wanted to throw the computer across the room. His blood ran cold as he remembered making this video. The details were hazy, but when he heard himself tell Meredith that he loved her, he wrenched the drive back out of the laptop and heard it clatter across the floor as he ran after you.

"Princess!"

----------------------------

Fix it now, Daddy!! You better fix it! I hope you enjoy your babysitter story @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you @mak-32

PART 33

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[zzleeper]

Good

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader

MAJOR hurt/comfort

authors note: tbh i do not put as much effort as i should when i write these fics so pls forgive any errors. ty to the internet for providing me with tutorials on how to heal burns :)

ALSO this happens after the end of under the red hood. if you dk what happens basically the building everyone is in explodes and jason is probably incredibly emotionally vulnerable

CW: wounds and burns

words: 2227 . playlist/vibes

.

There’s the squeak of your window opening, and despite the fact you know it’s Red Hood, you pick up the baseball bat you keep beside your nightstand. 

You had met Red Hood at a side job of yours. As a nurse in Gotham with dogshit pay, sometimes you’ve got to have some more questionable sources of income. You were stitching up some criminal who’d been beaten to half a pulp by Batman in the back of some sketchy club/drug dealing front, and he had caught your eye. Later, you realized he was probably there to fuck with the guys in the area once the men you were patching up started muttering about “The Red Hood” like if they spoke too loud he was going to hear them.

He’d played into your advances, flirting back with as much enthusiasm as you had arrived with. It was flattering having such a fine-ass man show interest in you. It didn’t matter how genuine it was since he had proven how good a lay he could be a week after that when you two had found each other again at another base of operations for another gang.

Every other time he always found you. He probably knew where you lived before you brought him back to your apartment. And he never took the mask off. It was a little weird, how attached to it he was, but it’s Gotham, and you’re fucking with a criminal. You’re lucky that, as far as you can tell, he’s not an escapee from Arkham. He didn’t touch the mask, and you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was super disfigured or something. You didn’t care; he looked good and fucked good, so nothing could’ve been that bad.

Red Hood always left before you’d even fallen asleep. The post-orgasm haze was enjoyable until he untangled himself from you and left without saying goodbye. It was always a silent affair every time he left. He was so committed to leaving that he refused to stay the night during a thunderstorm, deciding to brave thunder and rain instead of sleeping in the same bed with you

It didn’t hurt, but it was a little disappointing. You had never defined your relationship with Red Hood, but you knew he wasn’t interested in anything but sex. You were, though. The dull ache in your chest every time he left was nothing unexpected; catching feelings, or at least thinking you are, is a natural progression of fucking someone once every week or two. It’s a pattern you’ve found forming every time you’ve tried to have a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, even if you haven’t even seen his face before.

Creeping out of your room with socked feet, you shuffle toward your window and flick the light on.

Your bat clatters to the ground, and you can see Red Hood flinch slightly.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened?” You gasp in shock at the state of the man who’s just broken into your apartment. Red Hood is beaten and bloody and clutching his side. You can see blood oozing out from the gaps between his fingers, but that might just be from how burned his hand is. His mask is just gone. But he’s still wearing a domino mask over his eyes. Bruises bloom everywhere on his face; his eyebrow is sluggishly bleeding into his eye, which is puffing up under the mask. He’s leaning against the wall beside your window, looking more like he collapsed. 

He groans quietly in response as you rush over to him, collapsing on your knees next to him, “Got in an–” He coughs quietly, that’s not good, “An explosion.”

You want to suggest a hospital, but you know that he would immediately refuse and–if he could walk–probably just leave. Talking to Red Hood in vulnerable moments was like coaxing a feral cat.

“Okay,” You mumble, “Okay,” You know how to do this. Maybe with more people and more hospital equipment and not in your apartment, but you know how to do this.

“Alright,” You shuffle next to him and wrap an arm around his torso, maneuvering his arm to rest on your shoulders, “I’m going to lift you on one, okay?”

Red Hood nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” You snap, nudging him with your shoulder, “Stay awake–and deep breaths, alright?” Shuffling into a crouching position, you adjust him slightly, “Three, two, and one,” You both grunt in unison as you lift him up and off the floor, “Up we go, come on.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you nudge the door open with your hip and carefully sit Red Hood on the toilet with you crouching between his legs. He droops in a way you’ve never seen before. Red Hood has always been so confident, holding himself high, but right now, he looks bone-tired, something sleep can’t fix. 

He feels raw and broken open, something thick with sadness and tragedy oozing out of him, and that’s not just the blood. You cup his cheek to make him look you in the eyes, “Tell me what hurts, honey,” You say, the endearment slipping out as if you’re talking to a patient. Or someone you love.

Red Hood pushes his face into your hand, making your heart squeeze in your chest, “I think I broke a few ribs, definitely a concussion too,” He lifts his hand, it’s bloody and burned, blisters forming in spots that make you cringe, “And my hand is burned like crazy,” He rasps, “Shot my gun with some shit blocking the barrel.”

“Okay, can you take off your shirt, or do you need help?” You ask, standing up to start running the water and grabbing two cloths made from old t-shirts from the hamper next to your tub. Red Hood shakes his head and pulls off his shirt in your peripherals. Glancing over, his chest looks just as bad as you thought it would, with bruises scattered everywhere. It makes your stomach drop just a little more. At least there aren’t any deep abrasions anywhere. 

Once the water warms up enough, you wet the cloths and offer one to Red Hood, resting the other one down on the sink countertop, “Wrap that around your hand and keep it there. I’m going to go get some ice for your ribs,” You say quietly, leaving the bathroom to walk over to the kitchen. 

Why was Red Hood even here? He’s the most secretive person you know, and doesn’t he have an entire gang to patch him up? He must have a lieutenant or something somewhere. You grab the towel you keep in your kitchen and stuff it with ice, heading back to the bathroom where Red Hood awaits you. Honestly, fucking one of the most dangerous men in Gotham and a notorious crime lord was not your brightest idea, but patching him up after he got into a fucking explosion? What the fuck.

This isn’t what you two do, especially with Hood being so vulnerable right now. He’s breaking the boundaries he had firmly set completely on his own.

“Hey,” You say, Red Hood’s leaning back against the toilet, his eyes closed, “Wake up, I’ve got your ice.” Thankfully, he opens his eyes and takes the makeshift icepack with his good hand, pressing it against his ribs with a slight grimace. You pull the t-shirt-cloth off the counter and stand in between his legs to clean his face.

Nudging his chin with your hand to make him look up at you, you peel off the domino mask with some hesitation, but Red Hood just closes his eyes. He rests his head in your hand when you carefully grip his chin to nudge his face in the direction you want. Starting to clean the cut on his eyebrow, you think about how familiar he looks. His eyes look like those you’ve seen before, but you have no idea where.

“What happened?” You ask, wiping the blood off his face as carefully as you can. You know he won’t answer honestly, the few times you two had talked about anything close to emotions he had fled or changed the subject as soon as possible.

“I told you,” Red Hood responds like the avoidant fuck he is, “Explosion.”

You tut, whacking him lightly with your t-shirt-towel, and he huffs good-naturedly, “You know what I fucking meant, dickhead.” You scold, but he just shakes his head minutely in response, a furrow forming between his brows. 

You swipe your thumb over it, soft in a way you two have never been, “You don’t have to tell me, Red. If this is the best way to help, then I’ll fix you up and send you on your way.” 

He takes a shaky breath, and his eyebrows scrunch together more. You’re scared he’s going to stand up and leave your apartment, but he pushes through your hands and presses his forehead into your stomach. He falls apart against you. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s something close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You mutter, curling a hand into his hair. 

You both stay like that until he calms down, the sobs wracking his body slowing to a stop. Cupping his face in your hands, you push until he looks up at you. 

You don’t have to push very hard. Wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs, you smile sadly down at him. There’s a small wet spot on your shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” You crouch down and start wiping the dirt and blood off his chest, pushing him until he leans against the back of the toilet. Repeating this on his back as well, you try to soothe as best you can with a hand stroking up and down his side with the least bruises.

Once you’re done you pull him around to face you, “I’m going to wash your hair, bandage your hand, and then you’re sleeping for a very long time.”

Red Hood visibly tenses at that, and you level him with an unimpressed stare, “Stay,” You say quietly, resting your hands on his biceps and avoiding his gaze, “I want to watch you if you have a concussion, and I can’t do that when you’re having a seizure in an alleyway because it’s given you brain damage.”

He deflates, but still rolls his eyes, “It’s not that bad,” He argues, “I’ve been through worse.” How bad, he doesn’t say, but from the amount of scars on his chest and back, you can pretty much tell.

You patronizingly pat his cheek, “That sucks for you,” You tease, your hand sliding down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, avoiding the burns on his hands, and gently tug him towards the shower. He follows without protest, and you both sit against the tub as you wait for the water to warm up. It’s calming, sitting beside Red Hood, your sides pressed together.

Once the water is at a heat you deem acceptable; you pull down the showerhead and maneuver Red Hood to kneel over the tub, still icing his ribs, and start washing his ashy hair with generous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. You can feel his breathing slow next to you as you massage his head with your hands, suds falling into the tub under him.

You wring out his hair with a towel and push him back up into a sitting position. Kneeling on the ground, you lean over to pull open the cabinet under your sink and carefully take the first aid kit from its precarious balance on top of your medicine hoard.

Wrapping his burn is easier than you thought, Red Hood pliant and willing under your hands. You do a once over of him and judge him fit to sleep. You lead him out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I don’t have any underwear for you,” You whisper, scared to break the quiet vulnerability you two are sharing.

He smiles at you for the first time since he arrived, which really means it’s the first time ever. It’s soft around the corners with exhaustion, and he looks at you for a little while before responding, “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” He whispers back, just as hushed as you.

You chuckle at his late reply, “Your concussion must be pretty bad if it takes you that long to process words,” You goad, slipping under the covers. Red Hood goes to follow after setting his icepack down on the nightstand, but you hold out a hand to stop him, “Pants. Off. I’m not getting your grime and soot all over my clean sheets.”

He smiles brighter, “Well, you could’ve asked nicer,” He huffs, unbuckling his utility belt and letting it fall to the floor. He undoes his real belt and kicks off his cargo pants, nestling down into the sheets with a groan that’s half pain and half satisfaction.

You’re lying on your stomach, your face smushed against the pillow facing Red Hood, who’s lying on his back, as he fucking should, staring up at the ceiling, “Good?” You mumble, more at the pillow than the man beside you, and he laughs slightly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” He whispers like a secret in the dark of your bedroom, “It's good.”

#jason todd #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x reader #hurt/comfort #i made myself sad #nvm that was the mitski

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)

summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)

❗️: you can find part one here and part three here if you need it :3

———————————————————————————

The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.

When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.

You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.

They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.

Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.

Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.

Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.

You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.

"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.

"But I want to be," he told you honestly.

"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.

"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."

"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."

"Says who?"

"Says Mindy."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."

It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.

"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"

"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."

Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."

That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.

You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.

On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.

You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.

They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.

First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.

Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.

You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.

It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.

You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.

They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.

You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.

Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.

You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"

"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.

"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.

"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.

"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"

"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."

"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."

"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.

"You let them attack me!"

"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."

"They?" you repeated in confusion.

He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."

You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.

"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."

"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.

"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."

You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"

"If it meant that you'd be safe."

His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.

"Ethan…" you whispered his name.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"

You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.

It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.

You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.

He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.

You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.

You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"

There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"

"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"

"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"

"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."

You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.

Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.

You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.

"Sam," you blurted quietly.

"What, Y/N?"

You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.

But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.

"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"

"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."

"Ethan?" she questioned.

"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.

"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."

"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."

"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.

"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."

He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.

"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."

"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."

You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."

Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry imagine #jack champion #scream imagine #scream vi imagine #ethan landry x y/n

[miniwheat77]

Pure. (Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), blood, wounds (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): You’re new to sex and John figures that out pretty quickly.

This was a request, you can find the ask here.

You aren't sure how you managed to get yourself into the position you're in now. It started off amazing. You got along well with everyone on base, all of your missions were a success and not many issues had happened since being on base with taskforce 141. Everything seemed to go so well and it was amazing. Until of course, it wasn't.

You noticed the feelings you shared for everyone seemed to be the same unless it came to Captain Price. You laughed and joked with everyone else, but when it came to conversating with him, you almost always shied away from him, bright red cheeks and you always tried to distance yourself from him as fast as possible to avoid incriminating yourself anymore than you thought you already had.

John took a liking to you right away. You were sweet and did just about anything he'd ask you to do. He adored that you seemed so submissive, so caring. You always checked up on everyone. If someone seemed like they were having an off day, you were always the first to ask them how they were doing, trying to cheer them up anyway you could, and he loved that about you. John might've stared a little too much. Might've spent too much time thinking about you, analyzing you. Figuring out your each move.

It didn't take John long to realize you acted the way you did because you were innocent. You know a lot about how fucked up the world could be but didn't have much exposure to it on your end. You only had one childhood boyfriend that you dated for around 6 weeks, and only seen him during school. You were still innocent and John admired that about you. But knew it would never last with the military. You would be broken down and worn out like the rest of them, thinking that about you broke John's heart a little. John took a liking to you right away and sometimes he flirted a little more than he really meant to, always complimenting you. Calling you pretty, saying he liked your outfits, how he liked the way your lips looked glossy from a little bit of chapstick. To you it seemed innocent, but to him he really wanted you to notice him.

He knew with the age gap, there’d most likely never be anything going on between the two of you, but it’s the thought that counts. Right?

John always looked out for you. And despite how toxic it may have seemed, he tried to keep the other guys away from you. The couple times he heard them talking about you and how innocent you were, he put an abrupt stop to that immediately. In a way, you were his and that was that. Despite being infantry and on the front lines with the group, you had started out as a combat medic and knew your way around a few wounds. Sometimes when all of the medics were busy, you were alongside helping them patch people up until they could be seen by the medics.

John carried out a mission that had gone a little south, and each member of his team was injured in some way. Gunshot wounds in places that weren’t fatal but still needed attention, gashes that needed stitches.

John was waiting outside of the infirmary, when you arrived. You had been injured as well, but definitely the least out of all of you. “John, it’s your turn to get looked at.” You breathe. “No. I’m fine.” He’s a little stern but you don’t listen to him. “How about I take a look at you? At least?” You look up at him with those doe eyes he adores so much. “Fine.” He sighs. “She told me all of the beds are full. So you can come to my room.” You nod your head, following him along the hallway. John felt like an idiot for leading his team into danger like this. It was his fault they were all injured. Even you. He opens the door to his room and you follow him inside. He closes it after you step inside. You’ve gathered a little bit of medical equipment, some tools for stitching that were packaged and sanitized already. John knows where the worst wound is, the back of his upper shoulder. He pulls his shirt off, it was no good anyways. He sits on his cot with his shoulder to you and you start bandaging him up. Luckily it wasn’t too deep to need stitches. A few other wounds on him needed attention. A couple pieces of shrapnel, gashes here and there. Once his wounds were clean and bandaged, it was your turn. You made a move for the door but he stops you. “Don’t think I don’t see the blood on your clothes Y/N.” He chuckles. “It’s your turn, sit down.” You nod your head.

He starts slow. Washing his hands, cleaning any equipment he’d need. You have to strip down to nothing but a bra and your cargo pants. It’s awkward at first but as he bandages you up, you get used to it. He starts making normal conversation as he helps you out. But eventually, it goes a little deeper. You asked him if he had a wife and he said no. No wife or kids. No relationship in the past couple decades, which made your eyes sparkle just a little when you found out.

“What’s this?” He points to your upper thigh. “Oh.. uh.” He notices the large tear in your cargo pants and sees that there’s a massive gash there. “Gonna have to bandage that. Need to get a closer look to see how deep it is.” You nod your head, standing up awkwardly. “I think I can do this one myself if-“

“Nonsense, I’ve got everything we need here. No worries okay? Nobody will see.” He reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

It’s very apparent to John that nobody had ever seen you in your undergarments before. You take a deep breath. Reaching to your front to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your thighs and off before sitting back down onto the bed. John has to force himself to look away from your panties. They were plain and white, but he still admired them. Maybe that was just because they were on you. He swallows hard as he gets to work. It’s not too deep. “I’m going to bandage it for now, I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches but you need to keep an eye on it. Make sure it’s clean.” You nod your head. Once he’s finished and cleaned up the dried blood on your thigh, he looks down your legs for any other cuts or punctures, not finding any. He stands up. Picking up an army green sweater of his own and passing it to you. “Here, since your shirt’s covered in blood.” He smiles.

“Thank you Captain.” You blush, taking it from him. You slip it on and he has to force his eyes away from you. You looked so good swimming in his sweatshirt. It goes down to about your mid thigh, covering your panties. He breathes out. “You’re a very pretty girl you know that?” He smiles. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. You notice his hoodie has his scent on it. It’s intoxicating.

You’re standing now, having slipped the hoodie on, you needed to pick up your clothes. You stand up straight to look up at him, thank him for helping you out. But instead, he stares at you. He notices a few strands of your hair in your face and doesn’t think before reaching forward to tuck them behind your ear, leaning in closer to you than he intended, and he can see your eyes flicker to his lips.

You thought he was going to kiss you.

And you didn’t panic or shove him away.

John takes the opportunity and leans in, lips brushing over yours. Your eyes close tightly and you’re breathing a little heavier than before. Once he closes the distance between the both of you, lips pressed firmly to yours he moves himself closer, hand still cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. He pulls you flush against him, hands holding your hips as he kisses you. He lowers his hand to your thigh, placing it there. You don’t realize it, but you open your legs just slightly subconsciously. He takes that as an invitation, fingertips gliding over your exposed skin. He doesn’t move his lips from yours and he can tell you’ve not had much experience. You kiss him shyly, lips moving a little sloppily. He doesn’t mind.

When his fingertips glide over your opening through your panties, your lips move from his so that a gasp could leave your mouth. Only now realizing what was happening. You’re panting a little, lips plump and slightly pinker from the friction. Your eyes were wide as you lowered your gaze to where his hand rested between your thighs, rubbing over the wet patch of your panties. “It’s okay. Just relax for me yeah?” He smiles. He’s rubbing small circles into your clit, your hips bucking slightly. His fingers are just barely brushing over your opening, ghosting over your clit in circles.

“Captain I-“

“Call me John sweetheart.”

“John..” you trail off. “I’ve never.. um.” You take a deep breath. “I know love, I can tell.” He let’s out a deep chuckle, your cheeks reddening. “No… I mean.” You swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything, not with anyone. Not by myself either.” John draws his hand back, resting it on your thigh. “You’ve never touched yourself before?” He asks. “Just.. rubbing the outside. But not even that really.” He smiles. “It’s alright love. Do you want me to stop? It’s okay to stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Your brain screams at you. This is a bad idea, he’s your captain. But the heat he’s awoken inside of you tugs you toward him. “I…” John smiles at your silence. You don’t want him to stop, but you’re too awkward to tell him to keep going. Hand gliding up your thigh again. Your eyes flutter closed, giving him the impression you’re okay with what he’s doing. He pushes you back slightly, into the wooden desk behind you. You rest your hands on it, hips pushed out from leaning against it. He rubs gentle circles over your covered pussy and your eyes are still shut, lips parted as whimpers escape your lips. Your knees weaken as he keeps a steady pace. “S’okay love.” He leans in, hot breath attacking your ear as he goes for your neck. You’re panting, and John loves this. When he kisses your neck, you’re on the edge, clutching the desk like it’s a lifeline. Knuckles turning white. You’re sure your hand will leave an impression in the wood, if you can even think about anything else other than the way his hand- oh.

A whimper leaves your lips, stomach clenching up tight. “John- I think I-“

“Shh.. it’s okay. You can let go for me. Show me how you cum, pretty girl.” He breathes. Your chest and stomach are full of butterflies, it feels like millions are swarming your body, you’re sure you’ll burst any minute. The immense amount of pleasure he’s giving you, you can’t take it. His lips attack your neck and while he wants you to be quiet, he doesn’t care. The other part of him wants to hear your moans, when you cum for the very first time. A cry leaves your lips when you cum, pussy clenching around nothing and tears gather in your eyes. John remembers the first time he’d cum too, how intense it felt, how he couldn’t get enough. Sure it was a long time ago but he still remembers it like it were yesterday. So as you pant, hips jumping when he slows his circling fingers, kissing you to hide the pants leaving your lips. If anyone heard you, they didn’t need to hear you anymore.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. Hands on your hips. You’re stuck in another dimension, shot there from your intense orgasm, floating through cloud 9 as your body comes down. He chuckles, seeing the lost look in your watery eyes. “You okay?” He chuckles. “Y-yeah.” You blush. The tingling between your legs overrides the clarity you have after your orgasm. Heart settling in your chest. The fluttering in your clit was hard to ignore. John can’t help but smile to himself. You were so stuck right now, he’s sure if you tried to walk away your legs would wobble. “Sit down on the bed until you’re calm okay?” He helps you sit down and he sits next to you. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathes. John finds it harder and harder to ignore the own throbbing in his pants. But you’re not ready for that yet. “I’m sorry if I forced myself onto you.”

“No- no you didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You face is burning red. He smiles, just as he’s about to say something else, a knock at his door has him flinching. “Captain, there are beds open in the infirmary now!” Gaz calls to him. “Thank you Sergeant!” He calls back. “Should probably get back to them.” You nod your head. “You can keep the hoodie. Looks so much better on you anyways.” He breathes. You blush, nodding your head with a smile.

———

For the next couple of days, everything seems like a blur. You can’t do anything without thinking about what had happened between the two of you. How he could make you feel like that through your clothing, fingers not exploring you anymore than just the outside of your opening. When you pour coffee, you overfill your cup thinking about it sometimes. The overwhelming sensation of your orgasm sending you spiraling. The couple days after it had happened, you tried it yourself. But it ended in frustrated sighs and a cold shower. Interactions with him seemed completely normal. At least to him they did. You couldn’t look at him the same way. His fingers had done such sinful things to your body and he was so casual about it. Sometimes you’d swallow hard when he’s gripping something tightly. A pen, a gun.

Your thigh maybe?

You have to shake yourself out of it. The part of your brain that knows sex exists wonders what it’d be like to have him inside of you. Pushing your walls apart with his cock, tugging an orgasm from you. It would hurt, it’d sting. But what follows makes the fantasy worth it. An orgasm so good it makes the last look pathetic. Crying and clenching around his cock. Hitting such a high that you never come down from it.

A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts, and you stand up hurriedly. Opening the door just a crack so you can see who it is. “Captain?” You whisper. It’s late.

“Hey… sorry to bother you so late. It’s just that gash on my back is starting to throb. I’m worried it may be infected.” He trails off. “I don’t want to take away from the medics so I was curious if you would look at it?” He asks. “Yeah. Of course.” You move aside. John quickly notices you’re wearing just his hoodie again. It didn’t look like you had anything on underneath it. “You can sit down on my bed.” John nods his head, he can see that it’s unmade, so he probably disrupted you. “Sorry if I woke you.” He says. “Oh no. You didn’t. I was just getting ready for bed.” You smile. He nods. He tugs his shirt off, and you pull the bandage off. Seeing that it does look infected. “It doesn’t look too bad, but it’s definitely infected. I’ll clean it out and put a new bandage on but you should probably see a medic for some antibiotics.” You tell him. He nods his head. Once he sees you’re finishing up, he decides to make his next move. He reaches out for your thigh, pulling you closer to him. You don’t make a sound, but don’t move away from him either. “You’re so beautiful.” He looks up at you, fingertips sliding up underneath the hem of the hoodie. You breathe hard. “Thank you.” Your heart starts to race and he can hear it.

John knows he could get himself into a lot of trouble being with you. He knows it. But when he brushes his fingertips up your panties and can feel how wet you are for him, every bit of self control he has goes out of the window. As he rubs circles into your clit again, seeing the way your eyes flutter closed and you clutch his arm for dear life. He loses himself even further. “You.. said you’ve never done anything?” You shake your head. He stands up, moving you back, watching your eyes open in frustration as he draws his hand away to do so. “Why don’t you lay on your bed f’me?” He breathes. You look up at him, and he can see the nervousness in your eyes. “Okay.” You agree, sliding back into your bad. “Relax. I just want to take care of you. Make you feel real pretty.” Your cheeks heat up. What the hell have you managed to get yourself into? “Try to stay quiet for me okay?” You nod your head, he pushes his hoodie up over your hips and you look up at the ceiling in nervousness. Nobody had seen you naked, ever. He slides your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side. When he can finally see you, all of you. He has to stop himself from drooling.

“So pretty n wet for me.” He growls. He leans down, hearing you gulp. “W-what are you doing?” You ask. Confused by how he’s getting closer to your opening as he moves himself down the bed. “You trust me?” He breathes. You nod your head. “So relax. Let me take care of you.” You nod your head, tensing up as he lowers himself into you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning you to the bed so that no matter how much you squirm, you won’t get away from him.

You still don’t understand what he’s doing until he lowers himself into you completely, tongue gliding up your opening and a gasp leaves your lips. Your arousal is sticky and sweet on his tongue. He wiggles his tongue back and fourth over your clit, knowing how sensitive it is since it’s not been too abused. Your hips buck and you try to move away. The direct pressure has you flinching. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at your reaction. He continues as he normally would, kissing your clit and flicking his tongue over it. Loving how wet you’re getting and the tiny mewls that leave your lips with each flick of his tongue. The way your hips jump with every single lick or touch he makes. He draws away for just a second. Looking up at you, “M’gonna try something okay? If I hurt you, tell me.” You nod your head. Worry flows through you, but your arousal blocks it out. Your opening is already soaking with his saliva and your arousal. He slides two of his fingers over it, when the first is wet enough, he pushes it inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp out. You’re tight even on his finger. He has to stop himself from growling out.

When you’re adjusted, he pumps it into you, the sounds that leave your lips are unholy and he has to remind you try to be quiet for him. You’re squirming underneath him, moaning out his name which he adores. It’s music to his ears. He moves his other hand from your thigh, pressing it down onto your pelvis, holding you still for him. The second finger is wet enough, and you’re adjusted to him. He adds the second finger and you freeze, eyes widened as you stare down at him. He lets out a deep chuckle. “You like that hm?” He mumbles. You nod your head. “So pretty.” He mumbles, leaning down and flicking his tongue over your clit while pumping those two fingers into you.

You tilt your head back, pants leaving your lips as you enter a subspace.

Your body is warm, the buzzing in your head is all you can hear as he edges you closer to the best orgasm you’ll have so far. You’re doing so good for him, and he’s reassuring you. But you’re not listening. When he pushes you over the edge, you clamp a hand on your mouth, nearly screaming into it. He smiles into you, not stopping his assault on your sensitive clit. Your legs shiver and he has to hold you still so that he can finish your high, gripping you tightly. The squelch of his fingers entering you is sinful and so loud with how wet you are. The only thing on John’s mind is how he wants to hear you like this when the two of you are alone. Moaning and whimpering out loud for him, it’s a dream. When you finally come down from your high, body relaxing. Your skin is flushed red, warm to the touch. John was surprised the kind of feelings he made you feel. “You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re still a little out of it. He loves it, has you right where he wants you. “You did so good for me pretty girl.” He brushes his fingertips over the bare skin on your stomach. “So so good for me.” He smiles. You notice the bulge he has in his sweatpants. Eyes widening at the size of him. How was he supposed to fit? John catches on quickly to what you’re looking at and smiles. “Hey. Look at me.” He lifts your chin so that you’re looking at him. “Do you feel good honey?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah.. really good. I want to make you feel good too John.” You breathe. “Hey. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I want to make you feel good baby.” He mumbles, leaning in to kiss you. His facial hair scratches you so good, the only thought crossing your mind is how good that same scratch feels when he’s buried his face between your legs.

“John.” You mumble. “Yeah sweetheart?” He asks. “What.. what is sex like?” You ask. He smiles. “It’s hard to explain because I’m sure my pleasure feels much different than yours. But whatever you felt just there? Is probably twice as intense depending on who you’re with.” You nod your head. You’re intrigued now. After a few more minutes of talking to John, you start yawning. He smiles at you. You’re so cute. He helps you get back to bed. You clean yourself up and he makes sure you’re comfortable before he leaves. The complete relaxation your body feels sends you into a deep sleep, sleep so good you can’t remember the last time you slept so good.

Over the course of the next couple weeks, your interactions with John are much more intense. When you make eye contact, you lock eyes. You stare longer than you should at each other and when John makes eye contact with you in a meeting, whatever he’s holding he holds in a death grip, knuckles going white with the force of his hold. You’re driving him crazy and you can tell. The tension in the room when the both of you are there is so intense that that others notice how on edge he is. He has dreams about you. You pinned beneath him, moaning for him. He loses so much sleep over you. Nothing he could do himself would even compare to what he’s felt in his dreams about you. But he would never ever force you into anything you don’t want or put you under any kind of pressure. His interactions with you are normal. Small smiles, waves. Some normal chatting during pass times. John wants to come to your room and touch you every night. He wants to make you feel absolutely amazing all of the time, but he knows there’s a such thing as too much. He doesn’t want to pressure you, so he keeps his distance.

You on the other hand, hoped he’d come visit. Wish he’d come by every night. You’ve never thought about sex before, but since he’d touched you the first time, you thought about it constantly. Day dreaming about him, what he must feel like. How gentle he could be. How rough he could be. You’re losing sleep over it, distracted during meetings. You’ve never once thought about having sex with anyone you’ve met in person before, but John successfully changed that for you. You’re laying on your bed, phone in hand. You’re watching something you shouldn’t be. Videos on what to expect when losing your virginity, other videos too. It seems so good, so addicting. Your body feels hot thinking about it. If his fingers felt like that, how good would he feel inside of you? You’d finally get to make him feel good, repay him for him for how good he’s made you feel. The intimacy draws you in. You’re daydreaming about, laying in his bed as he thrusts himself into you. Surrounded by his intoxicating scent, clutching his sheets, hearing him moan out. Thinking about what he’d say.

Your body feels hot, legs sticky from your arousal. You’re not sure how much more you can take. John was on watch, he’d be getting off of it soon. You sit up, sliding a pair of socks on your feet. He has to pass by your room, you’d hear his footsteps. You think to yourself for a second. You pick up his hoodie, folding it up. You wait by your door, listening for his footsteps. After a few minutes, you want to moan out when you can hear his heavy footsteps, boots making them echo. Heat pools between your legs, and you can’t take it anymore. You have to know. You wait a few minutes, opening up your door and peeking out. You don’t see anyone, so you make your way down the hallway to his room. When you get there, you knock at his door. He opens it, smiling when he sees you. “Come on sweetheart.” He smiles. “What can I do for you Hm?” He asks. “I washed this, and wanted to give it back to you.” You smile, handing it over. He stands still for a minute. “Why don’t you keep it Hm? Looks so much better on you anyways.” He smiles. Your stomach fills with butterflies, you didn’t really want to give it back, so hearing this was good. You liked sleeping in it. “Why don’t you come sit down hm?” He pats the bed next to him, so you do. You sit down, and John can see the way you’re clenching your thighs together. He swallows hard. “John… I wanted to ask you something.” You breath, “yeah?”

“I..” you take a deep breath. “I want to know what sex is like.” You breathe. He smiles. “What do you want to know about it?” He asks. “I want to know what it feels like.” You blush. He looks confused for a moment. He freezes for a minute, hand moving to rest on your thigh. “The only way you’ll be able to tell what it feels like is to have sex, Y/N.” You nod your head, eyes meeting with his. “I know.” Those words crash right into him. “Do.. you want me to…?” He hesitates. You nod your head. He looks down. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. “I’ve thought about it, a lot. It’s what I want.” You take a deep breath. His tongue glides over his bottom lip. “Okay. Get up on the bed love.” You nod your head. John can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. You never had these issues until he made the first move. He’d definitely need some reassurance before taking anything too far with you.

He felt nervous, a sense of nervousness he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. John tried at relationships before. He’d been with his fair share of women, but none of them ever worked out. None of them ever made him feel the way that you did. Your smile, the color of your eyes. The fact that despite being in some of the worst situations you could possibly think of, you still tried your best to cheer everyone up. Some of the best times John has had in the military is after you joined 141. It seemed dull, like he was just going through the motions. But you came along. You joked with everyone, your smile and laugh were contagious. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought, not in every aspect anyways. You knew how bad a situation was, but ignored it. Tried your best to help the others around you work through it.

John moved slow. Lingering touches, gentle kisses as he moves himself above you. His lips ghosted over yours and when he tugged your shirt off, seeing your completely exposed chest, it started to hit him. This was real, this was happening. This was no dream, no daydream. You were beneath him and you wanted him. He grasps the hem of his own shirt, pulling it off before returning his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss you may never forget. He rocks his hips into yours, noting the whimper that leaves your lips. He tries to prepare you the best he can. Keeping you occupied with foreplay. Kissing you, nibbling at the skin on your neck. Whispering to you. You start to squirm, getting impatient. He knows you’re ready, but he’s stalling. He doesn’t want you to regret this. He wants to give you as much time as possible to back out in case you’re not ready. He grasps the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs, noticing you aren’t wearing any panties. He takes a deep breath at your exposed mound. Nearly dripping for him.

He reaches down to unbuckle his belt and your eyes follow his hands. Making quick work of his belt and lifting himself off of the bed to remove his cargo pants. Your breath hitches in your throat when he grasps his boxers, tugging them down his legs and revealing himself to you. There wasn’t a single layer of clothing keeping him from you now. Completely raw and exposed to each other, something neither of you would ever forget. You swallow hard when he moves to hover over you once again. Eyes looking deep into yours, waiting for you to stop him. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head, looking down. You wondered how it was supposed to fit, he was massive. John takes a deep breath, lifting himself up until he’s on his knees. He moves himself closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up to move you closer to him. A gasp leaving your lips as he moves you where he wants you. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “You can’t take it back.” He mumbles. “I know. I trust you, John.” You breathe. He nods his head, looking down to where the both of you were about to connect.

The thought of it is like a drug. The thought of being inside of you, sounds so foreign. Yet it’s right here. About to happen. You feel the tip of his cock gliding over your opening. Gathering your arousal on the tip, gliding it over your clit. Your hips buck and a mewl leaves your lips. John bites down on his lip, harder than he means to. He takes in a sharp breath, spitting into his hand and slicking up his shaft, lining himself up with your entrance. “Relax for me okay? I’m going to hurt you, but you have to trust me.” He breathes. You nod up at him, eyes burning into his. The tip of his cock pushes through your folds, stretching your opening. Your nose scrunches up, eyes closing tightly. “It’s okay-“ he breathes.

This seemed unfair. He had to hurt you, someone so sweet and kind. But he felt nothing but the best pleasure he’d ever felt in his life. How tight you felt wrapping around the tip of his cock. A tighter death grip on him with every little bit he sinks into you. He’s trying to keep himself together, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries you want to let out. John hates himself for hurting you so badly. He kisses your cheeks, the small tears that slip from your eyes, he’s kissing those away too. “Take a deep breath for me.” He mumbles. You nod your head. Sucking in a harsh breath. John’s hips are halted, not wanting to push you too far. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he had to. You shake your head. “You can keep going John.” You breathe. He nods his head. Sinking into you further.

Finally when his hips are flush with yours, he gives you a minute to adjust. He leans down, kissing you. Trying to distract you. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod your head. He slides out of you, pushing himself into you again. The first few times he does it, it’s a little rough. It stings a little bit. As you adjust to him, it starts to goes away. You tilt your head up, chest starting to move with your breaths that are getting more frequent. “You feeling good sweetheart?” John asks. You nod your head. “Yeah. F-feels good John.” You breathe. You look down between the both of you. Seeing his girthy cock disappearing into you. How on earth it fit, how it could feel so good. Was beyond you. You felt so full of him, a foreign feeling. A moan leaves your lips, propping yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look. “You like to watch sweetheart?” He laughs. Leaning in to kiss your nose. “Mhm.” You breath. “Feels so good.” You pant. Just when you’re about to ask him to pick up the pace, it’s like he reads your mind. Thrusting a little faster, with a little more force. “Oh my god-“ you moan, letting your head fall back into his pillows. And just like your daydreams, you’re there. Tugging at his sheets as he pushes you into a high you know you’ll never come down from. Sweat covered skin, fluids mixing together, a sinful concoction. John chuckles when you moan out, making him clamp a hand over your mouth. “You’ve got to be quiet for me sweetheart.” He smiles. The fact that he could make you feel so good sends shivers down his spine.

Each sensitive spot he brushes up against, he adds more. Nibbling on that sweet spot on your neck he’d found. Fingers gliding across your stomach to rub small circles on your sensitive nub. He kisses down your chest, attacking your nipples with his lips. You’re on cloud 9 again, but it’s more intense. “Can feel you clenching around me sweetheart. You close?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. Struggling to keep yourself together. John smiles. He rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace. “Rub your clit for me.” He draws his hand back. You take over his place, gently rubbing at it. He keeps the same pace, thrusting right into your spongy spot. You were teetering on the edge. You suck in a sharp breath when you hit your high, and John clamps his hand over your mouth again right as you cum, muffling a moan that leaves your lips. You draw your hand back, clutching the sheets like your life depends on it. Bucking your hips up into him. John rides out your high before his thrusts halt. “Can you handle it?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re dazed as he continues, right on the edge of his own high. The groans that leave his lips are even sexier than you thought, another pit forming in your stomach. “Oh fuck- I’m going to-“ he slides out of you, pumping his cock. You pull him into you, kissing him to muffle his own moans, jumping when you feel his warmth covering your chest and stomach. When he relaxes, hand covered in his cum. He laughs. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes. “No no. You weren’t.” You blush. He’s a little embarrassed just how quickly he had finished, but he can’t even remember the last time he’d been with anyone. He stands up, getting you a towel before returning and wiping his cum off of you. Helping you get cleaned up.

When you’re wearing clothes again, he’s got you pulled real close to him. Hand gliding through your hair as you lay next to each other. “Thank you, John.” You look up at him. “For what?” He asks. “For being so gentle with me.” He smiles. “I will always be gentle with you. You already go through enough as is, I don’t need to go and add to it.” He chuckles. “Besides. You’re a sweet girl. And I’m glad you trust me as much as you do.” You lay your head on him again, eyes getting a little heavy. You don’t feel much but relaxed right now, but you’re sure tomorrow will be a different story. When you see the love bites he’s left on your skin. Maybe fingertip sized bruises somewhere on your body. The slight sting between your legs. Sore thighs. The thought of it makes you smile.

Who would’ve thought that out of all of the people you crossed paths with that could’ve taken your virginity, it ended up being your Captain.

I didn’t know if you wanted me to tag you so I’m going to anyways. I hope you like it!

@tamayakii

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 18

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mention of injuries; sexual themes; illness

A/N: I know I say this almost every time but this chapter is very lackluster and not my best. I had some major writers block and I struggled to get this done to the point where I was ready to give up altogether. I knew where I wanted to go, but words just weren’t happening. Hopefully, now that I’m past this part, it will be easier. Thank you for reading. I’m so sorry for the subpar work. 😢

You were actually a good patient, following Hershel’s recommendations by staying in bed, drinking more water, and not skipping or sharing meals. Daryl, to your surprise, returned to the room just a while later with a plastic bowl of some tasteless stew Carol had made. You didn’t complain, the woman always did the best she could. They had run out of any seasonings or herbs and with the cold weather, it was unlikely you’d find anything growing. 

“Ya need anything?” Daryl asked. You regarded him as he stood at the foot of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding looking at you. 

“No, I’m okay.” You took another bite, eyes following him. He retrieved his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, heading for the door. “Where’re you going?”

“Gonna try an’ hunt. S’cold as fuck out there but maybe I can manage some rabbit.” He shrugged halfheartedly. You hummed and stirred your stew until you heard the sound of the doorknob turning. 

“Daryl?” You blurted out. 

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t looking at you. You could feel the difference in the atmosphere. It wasn’t hostile, just uncomfortable. 

“Please don’t disappear.” You meant it in more ways than one, though you weren’t sure if he would pick up on the entirety of the request. Please don’t leave us. Please don’t hide away. Please just come back. 

“I won’t.” And then he was gone. He left the door slightly ajar, in case you needed something. 

Daryl didn’t lie aside from his constant use of ‘I’m fine’ when he was always so clearly not. So, you knew he’d be back. He wasn’t just going hunting. He was going to clear his head. You knew that because it’s what you would do, were you able to seek refuge in the woods safely. You missed hunting, the safety and comfort of the trees surrounding you. The stillness and quiet sounds that provided much needed calm in times of overwhelming chaos. You wanted to believe that you would feel it again, but you would have a newborn in a few weeks. A little person that would rely on your constant presence. Maybe those days were over for you. 

Daryl wanted more. He had made that clear. He wasn’t going to run away from the newness of what you had both expressed you were seeking. He needed time. It was fresh and formidable. You weren’t sure of his past experiences with relationships or perhaps even lack thereof, but it was clearly overwhelming for him. 

Especially since you had proclaimed to love him. 

That had shaken him. You could have kicked yourself for burdening him with that information. It wasn’t the right time. He had only just accepted that you meant more to him than you could have ever hoped and you just had to go and complicate it. You could only hope that it wasn’t so much that he’d change his mind. 

Rick had taken Glenn and Maggie to rummage through some nearby homes and a small town, returning with a bottle of meds for you that was about a third full. They had managed several cans of vegetables, two bags of rice, and a box of angel hair pasta. It wasn’t much but it would keep the group from starvation. 

You managed most of the stew, getting out of bed to join everyone else downstairs. Hershel had been apprehensive until you immediately stretched out on the couch and wrapped up in a blanket to continue resting without being trapped in isolation. The silence upstairs had been too much, the voices of fear and doubt in your head speaking too loudly. 

“How are you feeling, young lady?” The old man asked. He checked your stitches, used a stethoscope to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, and felt around on your belly, chuckling when he was continuously kicked at each disturbance. “Someone’s lively this evening.”

“Yeah, they’re tap dancing on my bladder but I don’t…” you trailed off and looked out the window. You had needed to pee since coming downstairs but didn’t feel safe going without Daryl anymore. It almost made you nauseous how dependent you’d become. Always the damsel in distress, the wimpy princess who couldn’t do anything for herself. 

“Things change when you find yourself in your condition.” You slowly brought your attention back to Hershel. The veterinarian was wise, had proven to be so back at the farm. Not always reasonable— as a barn full of walkers had shown —but wise, nonetheless. “You’re accustomed to living a certain way, taking care of yourself. And then there’s suddenly this little person depending on you to keep them safe. It’s not always easy to make that transition.” He gently rolled down your shirt and pulled the blanket up over you. “I could sense from the day I met you that you were a free spirit. You didn’t always want to listen. I’ve watched you shift from a woman who took care of herself by any means necessary to a woman who would do anything to protect her child. There’s no shame in that and the rewards will be sweeter than anything you’ve ever known before.” Hershel stood, knees cracking. With a gentle smile, he patted your shoulder. “You’ll see.”

You returned the smile, rubbing a hand over the swell of your belly as the old man took his leave. “He’s right, Thumper. You’re worth it.” Glancing back out the window, Daryl was trudging tiredly toward the house with two rabbits. You smiled, resting your head on the back of the couch to watch him interact with Rick. “You’re both worth it.”

“Whatcha doin’ outta bed?” Daryl was pulling off his crossbow, watching you warily. You wiggled until you were sitting up against the couch arm. 

“Don’t worry. I asked Hershel. As long as I rest, I’m okay.” He watched you for a moment longer before giving a nod, disappearing to prep the rabbits for cooking the next day. Carol smiled at him in passing. You couldn’t see his face but heard him grunt in acknowledgment. Maybe one day you’d be fluent in the complicated language of Daryl. 

“How’re you feeling?” A bottle of water was handed to you. You hadn’t even realized you were thirsty until you were removing the cap and tilting it to your lips. 

After several generous gulps, you lowered the water and sighed contentedly. “I didn’t know I needed that.” 

“Well, you’ve been—“ she turned her head toward where Daryl had walked away, looking back to you with an arched brow, “preoccupied.”

Your face warmed and you ducked your head. “Is it obvious?”

“Well, I’m not deaf.” She chuckled, patting your knee. 

“You heard?” You blanched, knowing you had grown impossibly redder. 

“I think everyone did.” 

“Oh god.” Mortified was an understatement. You were suddenly trying to recall the moments they could have heard but only succeeded in encouraging a sudden wave of arousal between your thighs. Well, that’s not helping. “Don’t say anything to— they can’t tease him. He’ll never—”

Carol reached out to rub your upper arm, shaking her head. “No one is saying anything. We’re all just glad some of the tension around here has eased.” She meant Rick and Lori, that wasn’t hard to figure out. 

You had barely opened your mouth to reply when Rick came in, moving quickly but quietly. 

“The fire.” He whispered harshly. You sat up straight, ignoring the pull of the stitches, and looked out the window, the scene becoming clear once the reflected light from the flames was doused. 

You managed to duck your head just as a walker passed by the the glass, its arm dragging across the surface with an eerie scraping. A myriad of shadows danced across the wall, your wide eyes following them until Daryl was crouched in front of you with a finger to his lips. His crossbow was by his foot while his hands held your boots and jacket. 

“Be quick.” He whispered so quietly that he may have only mouthed the words. You nodded and took the items, pulling on your boots without tying them and shrugging on your jacket. “Stay low.” It was hard not to smile, even with danger lurking so closely, when he wrapped his hand around yours. You let him guide you, walking as low as you could manage. 

Carol was coming down the stairs, your bag on one shoulder and her own on the other. Daryl let go of your hand to grab his bag on the way to the back door. Everyone had already gathered, Rick falling in behind Carol. The archer held up a hand to have you wait further back while he checked outside. 

“Here.” Carol whispered from your right. You glanced at her only to find her looking down, your knife held out to you. “I’ve got your gun and holsters in your bag.” Nodding your thanks, your hand wrapped around the handle and you brought the weapon in close, meeting Daryl’s eyes for a fleeting moment before he cracked open the door and peered outside. 

“S’clear. Go ‘round the right. Straight to the cars.” He began to wave everyone through, catching your hand as you passed. “Stay close to Carol. Be right behind ya.”

“Okay.” You agreed quickly and followed the other woman out. Only the pale moonlight illuminated the snowy ground as the lot of you bobbed and weaved your way around the herd. You couldn’t hear steps behind you but that wasn’t uncommon with Daryl. Even with the extra weight you carried, your own footfalls were light. 

It was close to impossible to see the dead and with the symphony of moans and snarls echoing from all around, you barely had time to stop and take a step back before the walker crossed into your path. Knife ready, you took down the woman with ease, lowering with the body to keep the noise to a minimum. 

She looked to have been a pretty lady, maybe in her thirties. Her blonde hair was missing in patches and her skin was torn and gaping in places. She was sporting a t-shirt that read “No. 1 Mom.”

You let that simmer after Daryl pulled you to your feet, urging you to resume the trek to the van. It was within view now, with only three walkers circling. Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog dispatched them quickly enough, creating an open path straight to the vehicle. 

Twenty minutes on the road was long enough to lose yourself in consideration of the woman you’d put down. It wasn’t hard to imagine yourself meeting a similar fate, maybe forced to bear witness to the grizzly death of your child or dying without knowing what became of them. What if she had been the one to kill her kid? What if it was an infant, a toddler? Unable to understand why this person who was meant to protect them was causing them pain?

You cried for her. You cried for the child. Silent tears that you didn’t attempt to hinder while you sought out the comforting rumble of Daryl’s bike just ahead. Even if you did fall victim to the dead, he’d never allow your baby to be hurt. You could take comfort in that. As long as one of you was breathing, your child would never know harm. 

The weather only grew more unforgiving as the days wore on, chipping away at any shreds of hope that were managing to survive in your little group. Another home found and lost. Freezing nights huddled against Daryl in the backseat of the van. A great deal of the blankets had been sacrificed when fleeing the dead. Of course, you, Lori, and Carl were given the heaviest ones that remained. Daryl would wrap you snugly and then hold you tight, claiming that alone would keep him warm enough. Apparently he still thought you were stupid. 

Food was dwindling. Once again, you were arguing with the archer about eating meager portions so that you could have more. If each bite wasn’t worth more than gold had been valued in the old world, you would have surely thrown many a bowl at him. 

His hunting trips grew longer and longer, now gone for no less than two days at a time. Measures were in place to ensure he knew how to find the group should the need to flee become necessary in his absence. Still, you worried. He manged to bring back more, usually rabbits but had lucked out with a small doe on the last excursion. With an extra few runs, enough salt was procured for the majority of the meat to be dried into jerky. It was sorted into each of your bags so it was sure to not be left behind if you had to leave quickly. The rest of the meat was prepared into a stew that could be reheated for a couple of days. 

It was nice to eat well for once, surrounded by full bellies and sleepy faces. The one face you wanted to see was absent, however. Daryl was on first watch at the small ranch style home. There were no fences but the land was open for a good distance before the treeline. Walkers would be spotted and the group could move on before the dead even made it halfway to the house. 

You bundled up, pulling up your hood, meaning to sit outside with him for a while. You grabbed one of the smaller blankets on your way out. Whether he admitted it or not, the long sleeve flannel under his vest was not enough to keep the frigid temperatures at bay. He was coughing into his elbow as you passed over the threshold, noticing his stew, long cold, was hardly touched. Pointing it out would only lead to another argument and at 28 weeks pregnant in an apocalypse, you just didn’t have the energy to spare. 

He was scrubbing a hand roughly over his face when you draped the fabric over his shoulders. For once, he didn’t argue, simply nodding while watching you move his bowl aside to sit down. 

He cleared his throat, his voice quiet and raspy. “Weren’t that hungry.” 

“I can heat it for you later if you change your mind.” Shoving your hands into your pockets, you leaned onto his shoulder and watched the gentle flurries pepper down from above.

“Ain’t gonna nag me?” 

“Nope.” You smiled fondly to yourself. “You’re stubborn as ten mules and this baby has been kicking me non stop for two days. I don’t have the energy to attempt and force feed their father.” He nudged his shoulder upward, jarring a giggle out of you. “We do need to find you a coat. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“Your tits ain’t never cold.”

Rolling your head on his shoulder, you feigned offense. “Why, Daryl Dixon. Did you just call me a witch?”

“If the broomstick fits.” 

That coaxed a startled laugh out of you. “Huh.” You stared at him a moment longer and then settled back into watching the snow. 

“What?” He leaned a little to angle his head in order to see your face.

“Thought you’d misplaced your sense of humor, that’s all. Maybe you found it while your head was so far up your ass.”

“Think you're funny?” He huffed, clearly not annoyed. It was refreshing to just talk like two people in a relationship on a cold, snowy night. Maybe you could pretend the world hadn’t ended for at least a moment. 

“Oh, I know I am. It’s part of my irresistible charm.” You retorted cheerily. Daryl made a pfft sound and joined you in watching the snow. It was almost hypnotic; the peace of the moment drawing you in until you were sure you’d fall asleep. 

When Daryl coughed again, you startled and sat up straight. He had turned away and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, muffling the sound to the best of his ability. 

“Are you okay?” It was hard to keep the concern out of your tone, terrified he’d withdraw from you. He had been trying, the evidence of his efforts displayed in his own ways. 

Over the last month, you’d never felt closer to him. He had found a truck, loading the bike in the back so that you would be with him anytime moving was necessary. There wasn’t much time for intimacy, not sexually, though he’d made you cum on his fingers a few times while the others laid behind him, sound asleep and none the wiser. He seemed to enjoy your company, especially while on watch. He didn’t speak much but when he did, he was soft and attentive. He would watch you in silence, tinkering with his crossbow or prepping a kill to be cooked. He still agitated easily, but he was trying. You couldn’t ask for more than that. 

“M’fine. Just a cold.”

It made sense. He was out in the elements more than anyone. He wasn’t eating or sleeping nearly enough. His body could only take so much abuse. 

“We have the venison, Daryl. Why don’t you stay in for a few days?” Pulling your hands from your pockets, you dragged the sleeves down to cover them. How did the man stand it without proper clothing?

“Could always use more. That jerky ain’t gonna last forever an’ the stew will keep a day or two.” The flickering glow from the lighter’s flame cast a soft hue across his face, gone too quickly for you to truly admire. Pulling the cigarette from his lips, he turned his head to blow the smoke away from you. Such a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that, I guess.” In truth, you couldn’t. Food was food and it was necessary. “Maybe I could go with you. You know I can hunt and—”

“Nah. No way.” He barely got the words out before coughing again. “You’re stayin’ here with ev’ryone else.”

“I can help and you know it.” You weren’t angry, but still found it difficult to keep the bitterness out of your words.

“Know ya can. Don’t mean ya should.” He took another draw from his smoke, exhaling while rubbing at his throat. Was he even aware he was doing that? “Best way ya can help me is stayin’ here an’ keepin’ the two’a ya safe.” It was dark but you could still see the pink beginning to cover his cheeks. “Get inside ‘fore ya get sick.”

You smiled slyly, crossing your arms. “I’ll go inside if you go too.” He turned his head toward you, brow drawn inward. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, angry, or amused. Either way, you tipped up your chin defiantly. “Someone else can take watch. You’re leaving to hunt tomorrow and need to sleep.”

Those blue eyes narrowed, the flare of the cigarette giving them the illusion of burning like the hottest flame. He never looked away, exhaling from the corner of his mouth to keep the smoke away from you. “You’re a brat.” 

“Yep.” You grinned. 

“Fine. Jesus, go inside. Be there in a minute.” He grumbled something under his breath and continued his smoke, shaking his head after looking away from you. With a triumphant HA, you grabbed the dilapidated railing by the steps and pulled yourself to your feet, cradling your belly to bend enough for your lips to press against his cheek. “Pain in my ass.”

He made you cum twice that night but not before denying you for an agonizing amount of time. 

“This baby is definitely a Dixon. Doesn’t ever stop moving.” 

Carol chuckled, stirring the stew she had just removed from the fire in the other room. “You’re gonna miss it once they’re born, I promise.” Her smile faded, a morose air encasing her. As your baby moved under your hand once again, a pang of guilt came with it. 

“Oh, Carol, I’m sorry.”

The silver-haired woman rarely spoke of her daughter anymore, but that wasn’t to say that the pain ever left her eyes. There was a permanent sadness etched there. Now two women she traveled with, survived alongside, were pregnant. It was a slap in the face from the universe. 

But Carol? She handled it with a grace you weren’t sure you would ever possess. 

“Nothing to apologize for, silly.” She reached for the hand that lay across your rounded middle and squeezed it. You smiled solemnly as she went back to stirring the day’s meal. “Daryl should be back today. He never stays out more than two days.” She chuckled quietly. “I think he only does that much out of necessity. He’d likely stay right here with you if he had a choice.”

“I think he leaves for two days cause he needs a break from me.” You mused, plucking a piece of venison right from the pot. Carol shot you a sarcastic look of disapproval but refrained from scolding you. “I’m not easy to get along with at the best of times. Forget being in a relationship with me while I’m 92 weeks pregnant.”

“So you did take that step.” When you blinked at her with wide eyes, she shrugged. “He’s not exactly forthcoming with details regarding his personal life but sightings have been noted of cheek kissing and even a little hand holding.”

“Glenn never could keep his mouth shut.” 

“Don’t worry. He’s been informed that if Daryl ever hears him, he’s likely to lose a limb. He’s aware of the dangers.” While the two of you laughed, Maggie stuck her head in the door. 

“Daryl’s back.” She waggled her eyebrows at you, prompting a one-fingered gesture in return. “Real classy, Y/N.”

“Hey, I am the perfect representation of a lady.” You winked at Carol and squeezed her upper arm before meeting Maggie in the doorway, bumping her with your hip. You quietly released a tense breath once out of sight. It was getting late. Try as you might, you couldn’t help but worry when it took him a little longer to get back. 

Grabbing your coat, you quickly pulled it on and zipped it. There was still plenty of room for your growing belly. It should last you the remainder of the pregnancy. The snow was at least four inches deep, quite the difference from when the archer had left two days prior. Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were out scavenging for the usual food and medicine, but you had cornered them before they left and made them promise to find a warm coat for Daryl. 

The wind was frigid in the evening hours, the temperature steadily dropping. Your face stung from only seconds of exposure when you walked down the steps to meet him. At first glance, everything seemed fine. It wasn’t until he was closer that you noticed his unsteady gait, the way he was dragging the string of rabbits through the white powder behind him. 

“Hey.” You called over the gusts, smiling at him when he slowly looked up. He didn’t return the expression but he wasn’t a teeth and gums smiler anyway. That much you could brush aside without concern. It was the wet, barking cough into the crook of his elbow that shifted your concern to something just short of panic. “Daryl?”

“Got some rabbits.” He croaked, walking right past you and into the house. You followed on his heels, leaning forward to relieve him of the four animals before he could object. He fixed you with a sharp glare but you only smiled and backed toward the kitchen. 

“Just gonna put these in there. We can clean them together in just a bit.” There was no time for either of the other women to question your hurry. You deposited the rabbits on the counter by the old sink and exited just as quickly as you had entered. 

Daryl was coughing again when you returned, a painful sounding hack that jarred his entire body. His chest seemed to rattle with each breath, his movements sluggish while he removed his crossbow from his back. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You moved closer but still gave him several feet of distance. 

“M’fine.” He gestured vaguely around his upper torso. “S’just this fuckin’ cold.”

“Right.” You answered, watching him remove his poncho and vest. He must have sensed your eyes on him, an irritated glance thrown your way. 

“What?” He snapped. 

“You look like shit and sound even worse.” Your feet were propelling you toward him but he somehow managed to sidestep around you. “Daryl, hang on.”

“Ain’t in the mood for your shit, Y/N.” There was a sharp retort on the tip of your tongue that you swallowed when he began to cough again and staggered to catch himself against the wall. 

“Daryl?” You were at his side in an instant, your arm winding around this back to help support him. You couldn’t miss the heat you felt beneath his shirt. “Fuck, you’re hotter than a jalapeño’s ass!”

“Told ya, m’fine.” He hissed, probably attempting menacing but only managing a weak rasp. 

“You’re not fine, Daryl.” You held on tighter when he tried to shrug you off, a good thing since his legs buckled a moment later and took you both down. You managed to control the fall, ending with the two of you on your knees. Daryl coughed harshly, only managing to stay upright with your support. “Maggie! Maggie, get Hershel!”

“What’s wrong?” The eldest Greene ran into the room, followed by Carol. “Shit.”  One look and she disappeared, yelling for her father while Carol came around to Daryl’s other side. 

“Ain’t…no reason…for all this fussin’.”

“Shut up, Daryl. Daryl?” Your eyes met his briefly, fear and panic flashing through them before they rolled up and he slumped forward against you. “Daryl!”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut #daryl angst #daryl smut #daryl the walking dead #daryl #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl dixon

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

#hannibal #Hannibal x reader #Hannibal x you #Hannibal imagine #Hannibal lector #hannibal lector x reader #Hannibal lector x you #Hannibal lector imagine

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

This is in response to the "Jason pretending to be/gaslighting himself into actual pregnancy" thread.

What exactly is Alfred’s and Bruce’s reaction to the…news? Like, how did they get told? Did the batkids (-Todd) sit them down, bring the board out, and try to quickly explain the ‘hey your son/grandson may be pregnant, yes it’s possible, halfa biology is a fun thing isn’t it?’ and all that jazz?

Or did Jason announce it randomly in the middle of chaotic family dinner and acted like he didn’t say anything odd, or did he bring it up offhandedly before waking away and ignoring any calls for him to return

Lmao maybe in a different world Jason chooses to announce it during a gala, Peeta ‘if it weren’t for the baby’ Mellark style, and then just let hell ascend.

Or did Danny break it by just simply asking Jason how the baby was

The first time the other boys breakdown.

It’s decided that Jason would tell Alfred at his own time and so they focus on Bruce.

They sit Bruce down in the cave and lay out their evidence the best they can.

And when the others come in later to suit up Bruce tries to bench Jason and that does not go down well.

A full screaming match that hasn’t happen since Jason’s switch, that ends with Bruce just shouting,

“I don’t care what happens out there right now, I can’t allow a pregnant person to put themselves in danger!”

And Jason just freezes in place, the cave is dead silent. Half of the clan is just looking on in confusion. The other boys are refusing to look in their general direction. Stephanie folds herself in half with a laugh and Alfred just raises an eyebrow.

Jason’s has to catch himself on the table to stop himself from falling over from the stitch in his side.

~~~~~~~~~

The second time is after the Desiree incident he goes to talk to with Alfred alone.

The what ifs were keeping him up, he needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t judge him.

They sat together under the island lights with tea and Alfred gave him a gentle hug .

Jason admitted that he didn’t know why he was crying anyways. It was his choice, he knew it was for the best.

Maybe it was just how bad he’s been feeling for the last week.

Alfred doesn’t judge and reassured Jason that he was allowed to feel such ways.

~~~~~~~

The third time it was real casual, so casual in fact that they others just through he was joking.

When the others realized he had completely kicked the last of his smoking habit and just said “for my baby” they thought he had quit during the prank.

When he declined a drink with Bruce and Dick he just said “baby” and they assumed he didn’t feel like it and was joking.

When Jason said he wasn’t going to patrol for awhile they assumed he was taking a well deserved vacation.

It wasn’t until he was a good four months along did they take a hint.

Dick, poking Jason side jokingly: Man little wing, not so little now. I know you’re on vacation and all that but you’re starting to let yourself go.

Jason not looking up from his writing: Gee Dickhead, thanks. Not like I’ve been growing your first nibling or anything.

Dick:…. What?

Jason: you know? My baby? Little thing making a mess of my guts rn?

*The others tuning in at the breakfast table*

Jason: guys, seriously. Did none of you take me seriously?

Damian: it was hard to after the last time

Jason: why’d you think I’ve sat out all the breakouts the last two months???

Tim: I just thought you were being a dick man.

Jason: Thanks. Old man, you good? You have been staring ahead for quite some time.

Bruce, mildly choked up: hmmm

Jason: ok good anyways what do you think about the name ‘Martha Jane Todd Wayne’ for a girl? I thought Jane Martha first but I think Martha Jane sits better on the tongue.

Bruce with an even more choked up expression: hmmm

#dp x dc #writing prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #mother hood au #mpreg

[swanimagines]

HEALING TOUCH | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: When you catch a sight of a wounded Kaz, it leads to somewhat sweet moment between you and your boss.

The night had gone sour for Kaz Brekker. He had been stupid, not expecting the new gang having gathered so many members already. He had fought them off successfully, of course, but not without receiving a nasty gash over his lip. 

And now he was making his way towards the Slat, wanting to disappear into his room without anyone noticing. Last thing he wanted right now was someone asking about the gash, asking if he was alright. He was in a bad mood anyway, so someone trying to fuss over him would only make him feel angrier. But of course luck wasn’t on his side, and he was met with you right when he walked in from the doors.

“Kaz? What happened to you?” you asked, eyes widening in concern as you took a few steps towards him, staring at the gash.

“It’s nothing,” Kaz replied curtly, trying to push you off and start walking past you.

“Nothing? Kaz, it looks painful, it needs disinfecting and stitches,” you insisted, but Kaz just took a glance at you, continuing to make his way towards the stairs.

“I said it’s nothing,” he repeated, his tone firm and final. “I can treat it myself.”

You sighed, clearly not letting it go. Saints, it was one of your features Kaz had a hate-love relationship with. Every time you showed you cared, he felt his feelings for you grow, and he absolutely hated that feeling.

“Kaz, please. Let me treat it. At least disinfecting it and putting some ointment over it. You want to keep your lips safe and intact, don’t you?” you pleaded, trying to catch his eyes.

Kaz paused and pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment but finally relenting. “Fine. But make it quick,” he grumbled, following you into your room.

You quickly got into work the moment you got him to sit on your armchair, pouring alcohol into a small glass bowl and dipping a small towel into it

“This will sting,” you mumbled, taking a better hold of the towel before you carefully dapped the lip. Kaz squeezed his eyes shut and took in a sharp breath through his nose, trying to silence corpses wailing in his head.

She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive.

“I heard one of the street vendors talking about the ship at the third harbor, it will arrive next week. It sounded pretty interesting,” you muttered, and Kaz opened his eyes, looking at you. He didn’t even register what you said at first, but you continued with your eyes still trained on the wound, “there’s supposed to be some valuables in that ship. Paintings and small statues made of gold at least. Probably jewelry too. Could be worth snatching.”

Kaz’s mind started to catch up with your words, and he managed to make himself reply, “Could be worth looking into. Did they mention anything about security?”

You nodded, dipping another towel in another glass bowl with something sticky and yellow. “Yeah. Stadwatch has increased their patrols for a few nights - stay still for me - and there’s some traps around the ship’s hold too. Might be tricky. That has to dry up for a moment, it may tickle but don’t try to scratch it.”

You sat back on your own chair, and you two stared at each other for a while. Only then Kaz realised you had already treated his lip and you smirked at his expression briefly, before your eyes softened.

“You know, Kaz, you don’t have to act so tough all the time. It’s okay to ask for help, let someone take care of you if you need it.”

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me,” Kaz said sharply.

“I know. But sometimes it’s nice to know someone cares,” you said with a soft smile, the one Kaz could never understand why you were looking at him like that.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not pity. It’s caring. And I care about you,” you said, your hand reaching for him slightly. Kaz pulled away instinctively even though he knew you weren’t attempting to touch him, and you dropped your hand. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

You sat there for a while, his eyes meeting yours. You caught something going past his eyes, just a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. And Kaz’s head was going through a swirl of mixed thoughts.

I care about you too. If I could, I would hold your hand. I would let you close, I would tell you everything.

But instead of saying any of those things or anything that would even point that way, he stood up. “I should go,” he then said, as if nothing had happened.

You watched him leave, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. Sometimes you cursed yourself for falling for a man like him, always fearing he’d break your heart in the end. But still, each passing day, your feelings for him just grew, and you just wished he would let you in, or at least would show a clear sign whether he likes you or not.

So once again, you wondered what the future held for you and Kaz. Would it ever get sorted out? Would he ever open up to anyone, you or someone else? Or would he always remain a mystery, out of reach, closed off?

Only time would tell.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagines #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #reader insert #female reader #my works

[lemon-world1]

You're everything I never knew I needed. │Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

I’m fully aware of the inconsistency in my writing/posting. I’m even more aware that there are many similar fics, but... It’s never enough. I just had to. I’m a sucker for our boy Frankie taking care of his girl. Hope you’ll enjoy it! 

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, period pain

summary: Your period came unexpectedly just as Frank comes to see you after being away from NYC. It's pure fluff.

Not everyone can say they're friends with the most badass vigilante in New York City. You and Frank have forged an unbreakable bond over countless nights spent stitching up his bullet-ridden body. He'd crawl to your balcony like a wounded animal seeking shelter, and you'd nurse him back to health. 

Your friendship was simple, you took care of him, and he took care of you. He'd fix things around your apartment, like the water heater that blew up or carry your groceries to your apartment. But it wasn't just his actions that spoke volumes. You could see something in his eyes when he looked at you - a hidden feeling.  

Sometimes, Frank's PTSD would get the best of him, and he'd lash out at you. But you knew it wasn't his fault. You stood by him, no matter what because you knew what he went through. You were always there for him, no matter the cost. 

You never told Frank how you felt about him, but you didn't need to. He knew, just like he knew, how much you meant to him.

 ...

It's been a while since you last saw Frank. He had told you he would be out of town for a bit, which left you stuck in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts and the TV. You'd become accustomed to being on call in case he needed you, causing you to lose touch with most of your so-called "friends." But you never gave a damn about them. Frank was the only one who mattered in the big apple.

You had expected tonight to be just another dull evening spent munching on chips and binge-watching another crime docu-series on Netflix. You had passed out in bed, cuddled under the blanket you used to cover Frank with after a long stitching-up session.

But at two a.m., you jolted awake to a familiar pain stabbing your gut. You didn't bother tracking your period calendar because you hadn't been with anyone for so long that you stopped caring about when it would come.

Shit. You cursed as you realized your bed was stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. This can't be happening. Today was the day you had to pitch your new designs to your most critical client, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with the aftermath of a messy period. You had no time to wash your sheets, deal with the cramps, or even shower at this godforsaken hour.

You needed relief fast, but when you reached for your painkillers, you remembered giving them all to Frank when you stitched him up a few weeks ago. You searched through your first aid kit for anything to alleviate the pain, but in haste, you knocked the whole thing over, spilling everything onto the tiles.

Arrghhh. You were furious at this point, knowing the nightmare was just about to begin. Over the years, you had become used to being dependent on painkillers; otherwise, your period would kill you. Your ob-gyn had tried everything to ease the agony, but nothing worked, and contraception was out of the question. You always kept your prescription pills close by for emergencies, but not this time.

Forty-three minutes had passed, and you were already showered and dressed in fresh pyjamas. The sheets were washing, and a hot cup of chamomile tea sat on your nightstand. But the pain was creeping in, gnawing at you with every passing moment. All you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket and forget about the world. You tossed and turned on the bed, but the pain persisted. At the realization that you probably wouldn't be fit to get up at 5 and get to work at all, you started panicking. How were you going to cancel the pitch? 

My boss is going to fucking kill me.

Well, she might if your period doesn't kill you first. After another 20 minutes, your silent sobs turned into horrific cries from pain. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, the familiar knock came. 

Knock. Knock. You looked up and saw a hulking figure peeking through the curtains on your balcony. It was him. 

You got up slowly, your feet planted on the ground as you made your way to the balcony door. 

Frank knew something was wrong the moment he saw you. He could see the pain etched all over your face. Your puffy red eyes, thick, comforting blanket hugging your shoulders, and forearm holding your belly as if it offered support told him everything.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, his voice breaking as he saw you in such agony. "Is everything alright?"

You said nothing, still gazing at him, unable to process that he was really standing in front of you. His hand reached out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek.

"Hi Frankie, uh... is something wrong? Are you hurt?" He couldn't believe your words. You were in obvious pain and still asked if he was okay. Another piece of his shattered heart glued together at the thought of your kindness.

His hand still on your cheek, he spoke again. "Nah, I just got back to the city. I drove by your buildin' and saw you were up. I figured I'd check up on ya," he said, his voice full of concern.

You cracked a smile, knowing that Frank was always looking out for you. He was the one person you could count on, no matter what.

A visible frown formed between his brows as he realized you were barely standing on your feet. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. You were so small compared to him. He gently stroked your hair and held you tightly, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew something was wrong because you were never hot. He had felt your icy cold skin whenever he touched you, even during the hottest summer days. Without question, he lifted you in his arms and carried you across the room to your bed. 

"Frankie, I'm cold," you said, your voice trembling.

"Shit. You might have a fever," he said, his face creased with worry. "Why you ain't wearin' no socks, baby girl?"

Usually, you would melt under his sweet nicknames, but you couldn't even blush right now. He reached for your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest and fluffiest pair of socks he could find. He gently put them on your feet, making sure they were snug. 

"You take any painkillers yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of relief. 

You shook your head; you could barely speak at this point. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, but you refused to give in. "I ran out of meds. Nothing I have is strong enough," you managed to say, gritting your teeth.

A loud scream left your mouth, making Frank sit beside you on the bed and instantly wrap his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, letting you weigh into him. One of his palms rested on your forehead, wiping your cold sweat from the burning skin, and the other squeezed your hand placed on your belly.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched you writhe in agony. "I gotcha," he said, his voice low. "Just tell me what you need."

You shook your head again, unable to focus. "Just stay," you pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you." 

Another hour passed. You still lay there, your body racked with pain. Frank did what he could to ease your suffering, but he knew it wasn't enough. You started to fall asleep but remembered you couldn't be late for work.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you please set my alarm for 5:30 am? I can't be late; I'm pitching a new proposal to a client." 

"Is that the big one you was tellin' me about last time?"

"Yeah, it's important," you mumbled again.

"I will." No, he won't. There's no chance you're going to work in such a state. When you finally fell asleep, he knew he couldn't let you go to work in the morning. He took your phone and dialled your boss's number.

You had her saved as "Your Highness," which always made Frank chuckle when you called her that. 

Your boss picked up on the first ring. "Hi, it's good you're callin', the-" She started, but Frank interrupted her immediately.

"Mornin', ma'am. It's, ugh, Pete, actually. Sorry to bother you so early, but my girl won't be in today. She's, uh... under the weather," Frank said in a gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I hope she feels better soon. I was about to text her and tell her the client postponed last minute. She can take two days off; she hasn't used any sick days yet. Please give her my regards," the boss replied with concern.

"I will. She needs some rest. She'll call ya back when she can."

"Of course. Thank you for letting me know, Pete. She mentioned you a bunch of times. It's good she has someone to take care of her." 

"'Course, ma'am."

Frank made one more quick phone call before he heard you moving. He rushed to you only to find you frantically searching for work clothes.

"Easy there, darlin'. Your presentation got postponed. You got two days off now."

"What? How?"

"I called your boss. Told her you were sick."

"You did what?!" You were surprised and angry.

"Relax. She said you could take your sick days. You go back to bed and get some rest."

"Really?" A huge weight just dropped off your shoulders. "Thank you, Frankie." You were relieved and grateful.

Ding. Dong.

"Who the hell is that?" you wondered aloud.

"Lemme get that. You go back to bed," Frank said, already halfway to the front door.

You were feeling better, but still in pain, so you crawled back to bed and waited for Frank.

"Who was it?" you asked, curious.

"Just a friend of mine," Frank replied as he handed you a package of pain meds. "A combat medic. He knows his way around this stuff."

"I thought you took care of the drug dealers, not became friends with them," you quipped, the first hint of humour in your voice all day.

Frank chuckled. "Anythin' for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at Frank, feeling grateful for his presence in your life.

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Frank, what does that mean? Anything for me?"

He hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "It means I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I'll protect you, take care of you, and never let anythin' happen to you. You're important to me, more than you know."

You felt a warm sensation spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "You mean a lot to me too."

Your heart swelled with emotion as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you understand," he whispered.

As Frank pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. "You should rest," he said softly.

But you didn't want to be alone. "Will you stay with me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, darlin'," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shifted over in bed, making room for Frank to join you. As he settled in next to you, you snuggled up against his chest, feeling safe and protected.

"You know," you said after a few moments of silence, "I never expected to find someone like you."

Frank tightened his arm around you. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone willing to go to such great lengths to take care of me and protect me. Someone so kind and gentle but also so strong and fierce. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Frank's lips curved into a soft smile. "I feel the same way, darlin'. You're the one thing that makes everything worth fighting for."

You sighed contentedly, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Frank's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Frank would face it together.

For years, Frank had been haunted by nightmares, unable to find solace in anything. But with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in ages.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #the punisher x you #the punisher #frank castle #frank castle imagine #jon bernthal #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x you #marvels punisher

[adora-but-ginger]

(Not So) Champagne Problems

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

summary: he had infuriated you, and you deserved a drink.

word count: 3.2(ish)

warnings: drinking, reader being at a bar, intoxication, drunk!reader, swearing, a stabbing and an injury, angst but also fluff don't you worry, a little bit of klepto tendencies, no y/n used, mentions of death?, brief talk of a lack of self-care, miguel having feeeeelings

a/n: it's one am and i crunched this out in two days so no beta we die like men (gender neutral). also since i don't speak spanish i used spanishdict.com, but if i messed anything up please let me know and i will fix it!

masterlist

one more thing! don't repost my stories, otherwise i can sense a real nasty cold coming your way that will last just long enough that it becomes annoying, and when you think it's gone it will come back for another week. don't be like that, you don't want that, do you?

thank you for reading! -ella

credit to gif owner!

By now, the sun had long set, and your vision was a little blurry.

You had to have been on what, four? Five drinks? And were surely going to be cut off if you asked for another. But you fucking deserved these drinks, after what Miguel had put you through. He had the nerve to bench you after you saved his life.

The only other thing he had was the audacity.

As you placed the remnants of the fruity drink back down on the bar, your mind swirled with what had gone down earlier that day.

"Where's our anomaly at?" You heard Peter B shout from behind you, a giggling mayday in the baby carrier attached to his front.

"I'm rounding on them now, Miguel do you see them from up top?" How Jess could speak into her comms without the wind from her bike getting picked up was beyond you. You were swinging through a train tunnel of this particular universe, tasked with trying to catch the anomaly alongside Peter B from below. Jess took the road route, and Miguel took the birds eye--there was no way this villain of the week had a shot at escaping.

"Yeah Jess, eyes on them now. Heading down."

Woof. Miguel got on your nerves more than you'd like to admit, but man did his voice send a shiver down your spine.

"We're existing the tunnel now, eyes on them." You answered for Peter and you, checking back to make sure he was still good before the light of the day enveloped your vision.

One thing led to another, and soon enough you saw what was going to happen before you could warn him. There was the anomaly, fighting Miguel, who stood with his claws out and fangs bared. This anomaly could phase between states of solid and liquid, and just as Miguel was about to paralyze them, they switched states, forming back to solid right behind him.

And sure, maybe you had a certain lack of self-preservation that made the team a little concerned, but you had lost enough in your life to get to that point. So that's why when you moved to block the anomaly's strike from Miguel instead allowing the hit to come to you, you didn't think much of it. In fact, you'd gotten your hopes up thinking that he might even be grateful.

But no, he was most certainly not. The anomaly was quickly taken down afterwards, the familiar glow of Miguel's red eyes painting your vision every now and then as the job finished up. The anomaly had stabbed you, not in anywhere too concerning, but it still hurt.

From there it was a bit of a blur, with images of the portal and the team and Miguel running through your mind, until you were in the infirmary with stitches in your shoulder and the tall brooding man towering over you with his arms crossed.

"You were stupid." He had said in the infirmary.

"A thank you would have been nice. My shoulder is the same height as your heart, and the anomaly had a perfect shot." You had scoffed at him, and his face had flashed with a look mixed between anger and something you couldn't quite place.

"And what if they missed and had gotten your neck instead? In no universe do I want to deal with you dying, especially right in front of me, for me." His tone had developed a softer edge toward the tail end of the sentence, his jaw clenching. He hated the vulnerability, and you saw right through him.

You weren't too sure what you and him were, in terms of a label. Sure, you'd been one of the first spider-people to be recruited into his (not so) little boy band, and sure you had seen glimpses of him that no other spider-person had seen, but the latter had only been done late after hours between shared cups of tea or as he laid in bed falling asleep holding you. But then again, he always had that stoic look to him otherwise, with his mountain of an ego and his asshole-like behavior.

It was complicated with him.

"Plus, I would have to deal with mess of your death." There it was.

You rolled your eyes and stood to get up, him walking to your side to help you maintain balance from the pain of your cells rapidly healing.

"For the next few missions, I want you back with Lyla."

You turned to him then with anger washing over you. "You're benching me?"

"Yes, until you can prove you're not going to do something as reckless as that again."

And then the argument broke out, and he fought you on your recklessness and its consequences. Well, fuck him then.

He never took the time to think about what would happen if the anomaly did strike him, heightened healing abilities or not. It's hard to heal from an impaling of the heart. And he refused to listen to anything you said to justify your actions.

He was so bullheaded and strict, and you were tired of it, tired of him. If he wanted to bench you? Fine. But he could kiss those late nights goodbye, no matter how much you craved his sweatpants and t-shirt look, with his fluffy, soft hair, his so broad shoulders, the fangs, oh the fangs, and his a-- enough.

Snap yourself out of it. You cursed to yourself and flagged the bartender down, your intoxicated state making your hand sway a little as you did so. The bartender looked over at you and shook their head, making you loll your head back in irritation.

Big mistake.

Rapidly shutting your eyes, a groan accompanied you as you felt the effects of the alcohol sink in. You had taken off your watch too which you severely regretted now, because not only were you about to glitch any minute, you needed to talk to Peter. He would know what to do, and the watch was the quickest way to contact him. But it was in your bag somewhere, and you would rather suffer the consequences than even try to look in that thing right now.

His spider senses must have been pretty accurate because not even three minutes later your phone was ringing, his name appearing on the screen.

He spoke your name into the phone upon your answering, and you chuckled as you pictured him in that pink robe, probably pacing in some rabbit slippers too. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course.

"Hey Petey B, what's up?" You tried to muster all of the shards of your soberness to sound as articulate as possible, which was not much.

"Where are you? Hobie said he saw you walk out after getting in a fight with the big guy, and we've been trying to get ahold of you for hours now!"

You snorted. "I'm fine, Peter, just..." You trailed off, the sight of a rather interesting wine bottle catching your attention.

Your name was called again, his voice reverberating through the microphone. "Hm? Hey Peter, Can I tell you a secret?" You whispered back, a giggle following the beginning of your little confession.

"Are-are you drunk?"

You scoffed and continued on disregarding what he said. "Miguel definitely doesn't want me sharing this, but he's being a big ol' mean bundle of muscles so I'm going to anyway." You looked around to make sure no one else was listening to your drunken ramble and whispered into the phone. "He'll deny it until the day he dies, but he likes being the little spoon." Another giggle followed after that, thinking of what else to tell the brown-haired father about Miguel.

"Yep, oookay you are definitely drunk, and in no universe did I want to learn that information. Where are you? Lyla--" You tuned out after that, focusing again on that wine bottle you fancied. It would make for a perfect vase, and if you could just avoid bringing attention to yourself--

"Hey! Listen, I have to get back home with mayday, but Lyla found your location and is sending for someone to pick you up, okay?" His concerned voice made you worry a little. Maybe he needed a little pick me up.

"Peter you should know that you're such a good friend, you don't need to worry silly." A hiccup accompanied your words of attempted comfort. "You don't need to have anyone come get me, I'm fine--"

That's when the pain started--your heart feeling like it was being ripped from you. The feeling surged through your body at a wicked pace then, with your nerves burning as if they were on fire. You felt like you could feel your molecules splitting apart, the pain circling through you for what felt like an eternity, when in reality it couldn't have been more than a few moments.

You hadn't glitched in a while, and you forgot how much it hurt and threw you off-balance. Add on top that you were pretty intoxicated, and you felt like your world was upside down, literally, because your vision danced, and you couldn't locate any solid surface to grab onto.

You must have dropped your phone while you glitched because it was no longer in your hand, and as your senses started to half-hazardly return, you fought to keep everything in your system. Yeah, you seriously regretted not putting the watch back on. Of course, they could still track it if it wasn't on your wrist. You should have just left it at the Spider Society. Or better, you should've just returned home.

But you needed to escape, and you weren't thinking clearly after you fought with Miguel.

Miguel. Stupid, cold, stoic Miguel. Hot, soft, sexy Miguel. Couldn't hold in his anger for the life of him and doesn't know how to properly process emotions Miguel. Sweet, aggravatingly cute, loving Miguel.

"You think I'm cute?"

The low accented voice made you whip around, your head catching up a moment after your body, making you sway. You stuck your hands out to catch yourself from falling off the chair, your arm hitting a hard surface.

Ow. Did you just say that out loud?

"Yes, you did." The same voice, unimpressed, crossed his arms.

There Miguel stood, clad in everyday clothes, jaw clenched and shoulders taught as he looked at you in your drunken state. "Come on, we're going home." He grabbed your arm from where it laid against his chest, lowering it while using his other hand to support you while you stood up. You could hear him say a string of curses in Spanish before meeting your eyes, an annoyed look reflecting from them.

"You can't just walk out of there into the city this late at night without telling anyone that you're leaving. Something bad could've happened to you."

You rolled your eyes and pushed his arm away, reaching for your bag and missing a couple times before grabbing its handle. "Oh, stop pretending you care, Mr. 'you're off duty even though I'd be dead if you hadn't stepped in'." Almost stepping on your dropped phone, you bent over to try to pick it up, nearly falling over as you did so, the world spinning. A hand lightly grabbed your waist to steady you, and you cursed at his subtle show of affection.

"You dealt with that by getting drunk?" He said as he helped you back up, placing some money on the bar. "That's extremely irresponsible."

"Tough talk coming from someone who gets his anger out by throwing desks." Why did he have to be the one to pick you up? Why couldn't it have been literally anyone else?

An annoyed huff sounded from him then, and you turned to fully face the spider. Giving him a good once over, you couldn't help but become a little flustered at how he looked. Yes, you were extremely fed up with him right now, but jeans, on that ass? Accompanied with the compression shirt he donned, well, you took a good drink of him in. Enough of that, he benched you.

"We're going home, come on." He tried to coax you from your spot again, but to no avail. You may be drunk, but you still were stubborn.

You scrunched your eyebrows and crossed your arms. "No. Not until you un-bench me."

You heard him take another deep breath, you clearly getting on his nerves, but you couldn't care less. "I took you off duty because you don't care about yourself and your well-being, and until you can prove that you're going to be safe out there, we'll find something for you to do."

He really had the nerve, huh? "Oh come on, you would have done the same for me, and you know exactly why I did why I did. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't have taken my place if the roles were reversed.

He hesitated a moment, deciding whether or not to indulge your drunken challenge.

"I wouldn't have."

You snorted in response, pushing his hand away from you. "Liar." The floor was still spinning, but you weren't going to show any signs of that to him. You tried to turn around and wave for another drink to be brought your way, but the bartender paid you no mind. "If you think you can come in here and be mean to me, especially after earlier, think again Miguel."

He grabbed your shoulder then, turning you towards him a second? Third time? He was always more touchy when it was just the two of you, not that you were complaining. You heard him mumble under his breath, though he never talked that loud in public settings--you figured it had something to do with his fangs. Oh, those fangs, those--

Snap out of it.

"Dios mío, mi amor (Oh my god, my love). I didn't mean it like that. You know I would have done the same, it's just that..." He trailed off, and you in turn raised your eyebrow.

If he was going to admit anything right now, whether you were drunk or not, he was going to fully say it. "Hmm?"

He had let the last part of that slip out and was thankful that you hadn't said anything about it. Once he realized the situation he was in though, he begrudgingly continued. "I tend to not think as straight when I'm around you sometimes, and it leads me to make rash decisions. I know you did it out of care."

"And?"

His stone-like facial expression finally, finally dropped, and you could take that for a win in itself. "And I'm sorry for benching you, but you have to see where I'm coming from."

And maybe you should have dropped it there, for you were able to get an apology out of Miguel, which not many people could say the same for. But your liquid confidence pushed you forward, bringing a finger to his chest. He lit this fuse, and you weren't going to let the fire go out just yet.

"If you don't let me go, I'm just going to sneak out to join a mission anyway. Leader of the Spider Society or not, you're not withholding me from something I enjoy doing." You could see the conflict on his face, but you knew you had won; after all, you were telling the truth. Either he let you go on the missions, or you were going to find a way to get on one anyways.

But this isn't how arguments got resolved, and you weren't sure he was used to someone talking back to him. Arguments were solved with compromise, so that's what you decided to do. "Okay, how about this. I'm not used to looking out for myself, but I'll try to do it more, yeah?"

He visibly relaxed at that, and maybe that was what he needed to hear all along. He knew that he was in too deep with you, and after Peter had told him of your late-night outing, his senses got a little frenzied. He couldn't put a name to the feelings he felt for you just yet, or maybe he could but he was afraid, but all rational went out the window when he found out that you were out here, not sober, in a universe you did not live in, by yourself. It was a recipe for disaster, and almost gave him freaking heart palpitations.

He had rushed to your location, and whether he was still frustrated with you or not, he loved cared for you and wanted you safe.

You were going to be the death of him, and he would willingly follow the reaper if that meant he got to spend the rest of his time with you.

At your offer he relaxed a bit, maybe he was being a little harsh. "Fine, I'll agree to that." He saw your eyes light up and quickly continued. "But only if I join you the next few missions, okay? You really had me worried today." You nodded at that, and the ghost of a smile could be seen on his lips. This was a whole lot better than fighting. Giving you a once over, he could tell that exhaustion was hitting you. "How about we head back home, mi querido/a, y ve a dormir (my dear, and go to sleep) . You can stay at my place for the night, sleep this off. I'll get you some medicine to help with the headache tomorrow, okay?"

You stifled a yawn, and his heart melted at the sight of you. Yeah, he was in deep. "Yeah, sounds good." Just as he dropped the tension in his jaw and shoulders again though, your frame began to glitch. He reached both his hands now to your shoulders to ground you. Why hadn't you put your watch back on? Why had you taken it off in the first place? You were blinking furiously when you returned to normal, falling into his touch.

Without a second thought he took his own off and secured it on your wrist, after all he wouldn't need his until tomorrow, when he traveled again. "Where's your watch?" He raced out, holding gently onto you. Eyes wide and mind scrambled, the moment you motioned towards your bag he retrieved it, setting it on his own person before ushering you out of the bar. "Are you alright?" He hated that his voice held a tinge of panic, but his stomach dropped at seeing you glitch, knowing how the pain felt first hand. You mumbled a yeah, and he walked with you back to his place. Swinging would make you all the more queasy.

When you two got in the door, he gave you another once over. "Are you doing better, are you sure you're okay?" You nodded, and the next thing he knew you were against his chest, hugging him.

Maybe he was freaking out a little on the inside at this, but he couldn't remember the last time he had received a hug. Returning the embrace, he murmured to you. "I've got some clothes you can change into, let's get you in bed." He heard an 'okay' slip from you, and he led you to his room.

And as he tucked you into his bed before heading to go change himself, dare he say that his heart fluttered when he heard you speak.

"Thank you Miggy, I love you."

And as sleep lulled you into its song, he was left momentarily frozen, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome warmth filling his chest. Because drunk words are sober thoughts, aren't they?

#spiderman #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #oscaar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

[00-hawkboi-00]

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part Two

Pairing; Graves x male!reader (slow burn)

Word Count; ~4k

Warnings; slight dehumanization near end (not of reader), implied human trafficking (not of reader), panic attacks, dissociation, implied burning alive (no death)

A/n; I highly recommend reading the newest König part (here) first to avoid the spoiler for that fic near the end.

It had taken months for all of your Shadows to piece themselves back together again. For that little spark in their eyes to relight. Some of them had adapted quicker than others–those who had been in the game longer, those who had already seen their fair share of horrors–while the majority had a much, much more difficult time.

--- "clocks, phone calls, and bad decisions" ---

Afflicted with nightmares and a slew of mental irregularities they hadn't had before. It got so bad with some of them that you had given them all the choice to stay or leave. Another thing he would never have even considered. Not until the contract was complete.

Most of them were misfits of some kind; either dead to the world or long since without outside connections. So it hadn't really been a surprise when, even given the option, none of them had jumped the gun at the opportunity to leave.

Underneath the hard exoskeleton of emotional blockades and shitty coping mechanisms, they all just wanted to fit in. Wanted a place to belong. And your Shadows had found that here, even after the slaughter, with the company. With him. With you.

You were the one to catch them when they fell. To stitch up their wounds with your less-than-ideal medical knowledge when there wasn't a more qualified individual around. To provide adequate support and feedback. And, like right now, to offer comfort and security during their most vulnerable times.

Here in the darkness of one of your Shadows' rooms. Their roommate, though you knew he was awake, kept his breathing even and faced the wall. Pretending not to hear the hushed sobs of the Shadow huddled in your arms. Clutching onto your sweater like their life depended on it.

Nightmares. They plagued a majority of the soldiers here and always had. It wasn't anything new. But after the events of that godforsaken city–the mass murder, the cries, the fire–it had cracked your Shadows' minds. Splintering that delicate balance between emotional dissonance and their own humanity.

When it had become clear that these nightmares were affecting even your most strong-willed soldiers, leaving them jittery and lost in another world most of the time, you had made an offer.

At first, your Shadows had been hesitant, afraid to admit to their crumbling mental fortitude, afraid to be so vulnerable around someone who was supposed to be their leader. Then, after a few weeks and a couple of overheard panic attacks, the unspoken rule that what happened during the blanket of night stayed under that shield of darkness became apparent. And more of your soldiers had accepted your help.

So here you'd sit, letting their tears stain your shirt and humming a soft lullaby. Rubbing soothing circles into their back, using your mere presence to give them something to ground themself with.

Some even anonymously tipped you off to a fellow Shadow in need when said soldier was too ashamed to ask you themselves, or you'd failed to notice.

Of course, there were some who didn't want your help. Or didn't need it. But the offer was always there.

Months later and the majority of them had calmed, no longer needing your assistance. But there were still a select few who you would check up on during your nightly rounds. Listening for hitched breaths and shuddering sobs.

You wait until the tremors wracking through their body calm and then stop completely. Sit there and patiently wait for their breathing to slow and eventually even out, keep up that low hum until you're certain they've drifted back to sleep. Even then you hold out a little longer, pick up on the subtle signs of their roommate relaxing back into his bed on the other side of the room, soft snores filling up the dark, otherwise silent room. Then, and only then, do you slide them off of your lap, make sure they're comfortable, and quietly slip out of the room.

The hall lights are dimmed, the compound almost completely empty of life–apart from the occasional Shadow on guard here and there–as you make your way up to that dreadfully grey office you call your own.

Your steps are quick, silent, and efficient. Not allowing the shadows in the corners of your vision to twist and become sentient; the thrum of the overhead air conditioning to become whispered mutterings of your late colleagues.

Telling you you are the reason for their death.

It's your fault. all your fault

If only you'd

been better.

Blaming you, picking you apart. Vultures on your burnt, rotting corpse. Dead. Just like you should be.

If only

you

had been

better.

Taking the stairs, two steps at a time, as opposed to the elevator to provide enough of a distraction as you head to the third floor.

You should have been there. Why hadn't you been there for them??

Why'd you leave?

Abandon them. You abandoned them. It should have been you.

Why wasn't it you??

You should have done more. Should've kept them alive. That was your job. Why did you kill them??

Your mask is wet, the damp fabric clinging to the marred skin living half-dead beneath. Heart beating erratically, painful, and fluttering against your ribcage. Cage. Trying to break free. A gloved hand your hand? curling around metal. Metal should be cold, it's not. You're cold.

Why are you cold? Cold like the dead man you are. A walking corpse.

It's hot. You should be burning- you are burning. The metal is hot. You're hot. Melting, bleeding, suffocating.

Air isn't reaching your lungs,

Stinging smoke and ash sticking and coagulating in your throat. Wet. Wet with your own blood. Warm and wet.

Sticking to your skin, no, melting. Welding.

Becoming one with your flesh

Wet.

When had you started crying?

Something is blaring. Ringing and piercing through the stagnant air.

Tick, tick, tick.

That's your clock. Your clock. In your office.

You open your eyes and are greeted with the bright, artificial light fixated on the ceiling. The ceiling of your office. Your office.

Tick, tick, tick.

Not burning. Not bleeding. Not suffocating.

When had you sat down?

You're in your office. Your office. Not that metal deathtrap. Not being cooked alive in the fire. No smoke in your lungs, no ache in your limbs. No fabric melting into your skin, flesh giving way and exposing fat and muscle.

No. Just you. Alive. In your office.

Tick, tick, tick.

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, taking a few deep, measured breaths. Inhale. Hold. One, two, three. Exhale. Repeat.

Onetwothree, exhale.. Inhale. onetwothree-

What is that ringing?

You peel your hands away from your face, take another calming breath, and try to pinpoint the source of that shrill noise. The only things on your desk are papers, more paperwork, that stack of recruitment forms, pens, pencils, that damn landline phone you never use- oh. Right.

Ringing. Phone. Phone ringing. Of course.

Tick, tick, tick.

Your gaze zeros in on the muted grey object, red light flashing, that damn ringtone still blaring. You don't want to answer it. Not for the usual reason; not because picking up the phone means talking to another human being are you even still human? No.

This call causes your heart rate to spike again, the panic you had just managed to get under control stirring once more. Ice-cold dread fills your lungs as opposed to the burning taste of flames and acrid smoke from before.

No one calls. Not from that phone. No one but her.

It started a little over a month after you all made it back home. A shrill ringing of your desk landline, only ever one person on the other side. You didn't know her name, she never told you it. She knew yours. She knew far too much about you. And you knew nothing of her.

Nothing but an offer. The same goddamn offer.

There was no predictability to when she'd call, just that you were always there when it happened. And it never stopped ringing.

No matter how much you ignored it. You had no choice but to pick it up, hold the device to your ear and whisper,

"Lieutenant _____ speaking, who is this?" Even though you knew damn well who was on the other line.

"Ah, Lieutenant," she'd purr, that thick Russian accent only reaffirming what you already knew. "I'm not calling you at bad time, no?"

"Not at all." You'd force out, walking through the same script you did every other call–well, less like walking and more like trudging through a fucking swamp.

"Good. Good." She'd hum, then ask; "have you given any thought to my offer?"

"Not any more than usual." A small, condescending tut on her end.

"Mm.. you know, we are not that different. You and I." You had nothing in common.

"I hire soldiers by the contract, you raise killers. We are not the same." Killers with little to no morals, from your understanding.

"I mass produce expertly-trained combat warriors."

"Right."

"I take it the answer is still no?"

"..."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I give you little more time." Click. And just like that, the conversation was over. Didn't last long, they never did. The same damn thing every. single. time.

You hated the way she said it, like she was just biding her time. Like you would eventually say yes. As if it were inevitable.

You force yourself to loosen the near-death grip you had on the poor phone, placing it down on the receiver with a little more force than necessary.

It was late. You should try to get some sleep, or maybe finally take a look through those recruitment files. You most definitely should not be standing up, pushing away from your desk, and walking out the door. Only one destination in mind.

You shouldn't be doing this. Not after whatever the fuck happened before the call. Not after the damned call. Not when you were already feeling unstable, when your temper was shot and you could still hear that damn tick, tick, tick echoing through your ears.

None of that stops you and now here you are. Having briefly dismissed the two Shadows you had guarding the door, you now stood alone in the vacant corridor. In front of a locked door, the key gripped tight in your gloved hand.

You haven't visited him since he first arrived. That was a week ago. You shouldn't be here; he was probably asleep.

But, for fuck's sake, you weren't in the best shape right now. And you really, really didn't care if you did wake the fucker up.

At least you had the decency to knock.

Once.

You stand there at the foot of the small cot with your arms crossed firmly over your chest, silently fuming at the man who laid on it. Like a damn creep.

He hadn't changed, not really. At least not physically. Nothing of note besides his slightly smaller frame, a few shallow burn scars here and there, and the fact that his hair has grown out a little.

He otherwise looked the same. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

No. He didn't get to do that to you. Not anymore. Not after all the shit he's put you- all of you through. Not when your Shadows still came to you, shaking in their boots, stuttering about the horrors their minds had conjured up. Waking and not.

It was unfair how he lay there, mostly unscathed, while your own body was a burnt, mutilated corpse. An almost physical representation of your own faults; your greatest sins manifesting in thick, tightened tissue and stretched muscle. The disgusting, foul parts of yourself are laid bare for the world to see.

And, he, an almost blank slate despite his own immorality.

It wasn't fair.

You stand there, silently seething and glaring down at the man's almost lifeless body–was he tormented by memories of that night, just as you were? You'd think he was dead if you couldn't see the faint rise and fall of his chest. So far deep, lost in your thoughts, that you don't realize he's woken until that voice you hoped you'd never hear again pierces your eardrums.

"Phantom..?" He grumbles, still half asleep but starting to become more lucid the longer you stand there. You should leave, let him keep sleeping, maybe pass this off as a dream and come at another time-

You are rooted to the ground. The standardized, thin, grey carpet below your feet, under your boots. Still more than he deserves.

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" He huffs, that damn self-assured smirk worming its way onto his face. You hated it. You used to love it. "Your name?"

"It's not my name. Not anymore." He's the one who gave it to you in the first place. You couldn't stand to hear it spoken, especially by him. He didn't deserve the honor. You hated the way it made your chest seize, your breath catch.

"Since when?" You hated how it made you remember.

"Since now." Since over half your squad died. Since you all slaughtered an entire town–innocent adults and children–in search of one fucking criminal. Since Viper Shadow 0-9 ended up in a fucking coma. Since that damn tank. Since your uniform melted and became one with your skin.

"Why did you come here, Phantom?" He sighs, moving to sit up. The thin, standardized blanket pooled around his waist. He brings up a hand to card through his hair, giving you a tired, almost annoyed stare. "Did ya come here just to stir up some shit? To blow off some steam maybe?"

You didn't know why you were here. You were angry, sure, furious, even. And you were in the same room as him, staring back at the same man who haunted thrived in your dreams. The man who- it's his fault.

All his fault.

"And what's with the-" he makes a vague gesture at you, then his own face. "I thought you didn't like the uniform? Something about it "separating us from our own humanity" or whatever cryptic bullshit. Though you did greenlight the choice in the end, so ya couldn't have hated 'em that much."

Why are you here? He was just making everything worse.

Tick, tick, tick-

Why the hell was there another fucking clock in this room??

You stew in your own fuming anger, glaring daggers down at the other man. The man who had ruined you.

Even before the betrayal.

"There's much to talk about."

"Right." He deadpans. "In the middle of the goddamn night?"

"It's four in the morning."

He sighs again, dragging a hand down his face. "Right. Forgot how technical you could be."

"Thought that's what you liked about me?" Oh, hell. Welp. This is where it was going. Right.

Should've known you wouldn't be able to keep those weak, useless fucking emotions to yourself.

You used to be wonderful at that. Until him.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Ah, is this what we're doing? Really, Phantom? Right now?"

"I told you not to call me that."

"You're also the one bringing up our past relations, so fucking deal with it, yeah?"

You used to be the mellow one, a clear thinker. Following but also guiding him when he sunk too deep into his own personal hell of a mind.

"You survived."

That was then. This is now.

"Yeah, I did. Is that really such a surprise?"

A lot has changed. And you really, really were tired of that cocky fucking smile of his.

"I was really hoping you hadn't." You grit out in that usual monotone voice of yours.

It was a little harsh, a little brutal. And to anyone else–anyone who didn't know you, not like he did used to–it would seem flat, blunt. But he knew better, could hear every bit of malice, each drop of venom that twisted through every word you forced past your lips.

He deserved every word–and more.

His mouth forms a thin line, eyebrows pulling together in a small frown. It felt almost good. To wipe that damn self-satisfied smirk off of his face.

You wanted to keep going. To lay it on thick. To give him what he deserved–to force him to face all the shit he's put you all of you through–, or at least come close.

Now you both stood on the same side of the spectrum. From hot and cold to an all-consuming inferno. A double-edged sword. Twin flames; in the worst possible way.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You've changed." That is all he says. Not at all the burning fire you had been expecting. The bite and sting you were used to.

No shit. You want to say. You don't.

Because he's right. You have changed.

And you're not entirely sure you're too fond of who you're becoming. Who you've already become.

Tick, tick, tick.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of an answer, you effortlessly withdraw a small, sleek throwing knife from your person. Launching it towards him but not at him.

Striking that damned clock in the center of its face. Piercing the glass but not shattering it.

Tick, tick, tick.

It still works perfectly fine, to your great disappointment. And slight embarrassment; you find yourself thankful for your mostly covered face.

"Damn." He whistles, looking back at the blade protruding from the clock. Then back to you, that smug expression back to being firmly in place on that stupid face of his. "Am I gettin' under your skin, Phantom? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around? Isn't that why you came here?"

You exhale sharply through your nose, tearing your gaze away from that giant man-child and snapping to the door instead.

Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline thrumming through your veins. Not out of fear this time, no, not at all like earlier. It's anger this time.

Pure, unfiltered rage and burning hatred simmering just beneath the surface. Fighting to be free.

You decide you quite like this new feeling. It was so rare you gave yourself the opportunity to feel it.

"You've changed, Phantom." He drawls again, this time less factual and more taunting. You hate it. You love it. It feeds the fire in you. "You've become just like me."

Oh.

No.

The warm adrenaline that has been pumping through your blood abruptly comes to a halt. Cold hard dread freezing in your veins instead.

Hell no.

Stiff as steal, you turn, not bothering to look back at him, and make for the door. Locking it behind you.

The Shadow you give the key back to doesn't question your trembling hands, simply returning to guard duty.

You're numb as you make your way upstairs again. Not even tormented by the usual slew of negativity and hallucinations.

You're not real, simply observing the world from an outsider's perspective. Watching yourself stroll down one corridor, then another, before making it to your office door.

You witness yourself unlocking the door, turning the knob, and walking inside. Sitting at your desk, you don't even register the feel of it beneath you.

Tick, tick, tick.

Maybe you should start combing through those recruitment forms.The company needed more bodies. In case of another unprecedented incident.

A notification popping up on the screen of your laptop brings your world to a stop.

It's from the Captain. You had been waiting to hear back from him since that first meeting had been so rudely interrupted.

You click on it–expecting a new date to make up for the last call, or maybe an apology for taking so long to get back to you–, read through those three brief sentences and all the bubbling rage you'd felt earlier quickly snaps back into its rightful place.

You push away from your desk before your brain even has the chance to register what you're doing. Gloved hands in your hair, fingers tangling into whatever you can grab. Tugging and pulling as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Pacing, breaths coming out in short pants as you desperately try to ground yourself.

Notagainnotagainnotagain-

The phone is ringing.

Tick, tick, tick.

Eyes flying open, body coming to an abrupt pause, you lock onto the offending noise.

Not right now. You couldn't deal with this right now. Not when so high strung. Not when you were feeling impulsive and out of control.

She already called once, why is she calling again? So soon?

You should ignore it. Deal with it later, when you've calmed down a bit. When was the last time you got some sleep anyway?

It takes one more ring and then you're stalking over to your desk.

One hand gripping the edge of the metal ledge firmly, the other snatches the phone off the receiver.

"How are you, Lieutenant?"

"I don't have time for this." You growl out, your voice is unrecognizable. Even to yourself.

"Have time for what? I'm just checking in."

"You already called."

A pause. You'd had one hell of a shitty day, Captain Price's blatant dismissal of you and your company was really just the icing on the cake.

She was talking. "-they don't need to be broken in. They take orders easily, without question. Every one of them-" Singing praise about the same offer she'd given you time and time again.

An email. He hadn't even had the decency or respect to call you. Didn't think you were worthy of more than a few clipped lines.

That they were busy. Didn't have time for you.

That they had more pressing issues to attend to. You weren't a priority.

"Yes."

"Sorry? Can you repeat that?" You know damn well she heard it. You didn't have the energy for this back-and-forth bullshit.

"What can you do for me?"

"Well," she purrs. "I already have one of my Predators claws-deep in that precious little task force…"

At that moment, you wanted to crush Price and his little soldier boys like the pests they were.

"And?" You can tell she's enjoying this and maybe one day you'll come to regret it all. But that day is not today, dammit, and you're tired of being a doormat.

"I can send you one of my Predators, one of the best. Maybe it could teach your Shadows a trick or two."

"Sounds perfect." The old you would've never agreed to this, would never have even considered it.

But the old you wasn't here right now. This new version was. And this new version refused to be bothered by it.

Refused to be like him.

Because, if you were already heading down that path, why not become worse than him? Make him regret ever uttering those words.

Tick, tick, tick.

Make him regret ever crossing you.

"That's great! I'm glad you have come to your senses, Lieutenant." You and her both. For better or worse. "You'll have it by the end of the week."

That regret came sooner than you thought it would.

You stand there a little for a little while longer after the call ends, phone rumbling the low hum of dead air in your hand.

The overwhelming rage has finally calmed to a simmer, the reality of your choices crashing down on you.

What have you done?

At least that meant no more calls.. right? There had to be some positivity to this.

Tick, tick, tick.

The phone drops from your hand, caught only by its wire as it hangs off your desk. The off-hook tone is still blaring from the speaker.

You're standing on the unstable metal of your desk, reaching, then sitting on that same surface. Clock in hand.

Tick, tick, tick.

Rough fabric scrabbling at the latch in the back. Yanking, pulling, peeling back broken plastic and grabbing at wires.

Tick, tick, tick.

Pulling on them, breaking them. Red, yellow, black, blue; you don't care. It all has to go.

Tick, tic-

Finally. Finally. Quiet at last. No more ticking. Just you. Just you; alone, in your office.

Surrounded by a massacre of black, disfigured plastic and colorful wire. On your hands, on your lap, on your desk.

It's almost poetic. How it looks like you.

It's finally quiet.

And so are you.

__

Masterlist | One | Next

__

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @ravage-reposts @suhmie @lazyrel

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#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #graves x male reader #gay

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part eight

hello !!! I’m back !!! this parts got a whopper in it, apologies in advance, but it’s got a nice ending and something to look forward to if that’s any consolation :) 

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part eight

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven

word count: 3k

warnings: language, drinking, I think that’s it?

You felt entirely on edge as your knee bounced erratically sitting in the uncomfortable chair across from your chief of surgery, a million thoughts racing through your mind that you couldn’t really make any sense of. Were you really doing this? Was this really something you were going to go through with? 

“I have to say, I was surprised by your interest, Jupiter,” he said as he organized the papers in front of him and you let out a humorless chuckle.

“No more surprised than I am, sir.” you replied and he sensed the hesitation in your voice.

“Do you need more time to think it over?” he asked and you shook your head. This was the right decision, the right move… not just for your career but it was simply the right thing to do. 

“No, I… I’m sure, I just… I haven’t told anyone yet,” you sighed and you immediately felt your stomach twist in guilt as you said it. You hadn’t told anyone. Not your parents, not your friends, not Jake. Deep down you knew he would be supportive, he would understand… your friends too, they’d understand better than anyone, probably… maybe. You wouldn’t know for sure until you told them. You signed all of the paperwork before asking if you could have the rest of the day, which you were easily granted. You’d be on a lighter rotation the next week, less cases and less time in the hospital to get your life in order.

You stood in the attending’s lounge, changing into your normal clothes… Jake always joked and called them your civvies too, different careers but same little quirks. You felt sick, honestly, to have something so big happening in your life that you hadn’t told him about. This never happened, not since you were ten years old. He knew everything, you simply never could keep anything from him, not what you had for breakfast and not that one time you embarrassingly had to get stitches back in your residency because you slipped in a puddle of blood and cracked your head open - something you still hadn’t quite lived down with your old friends. But this? This was bigger than all of that, potentially the biggest thing you’ve ever had to tell him. 

You sat along the beach in front of the Hard Deck as you waited, eyes so fixated on the push and pull of the ocean you almost didn’t notice the figure dropping down beside you, and you turned to face him with a jump. “This is all very cryptic, Jupiter.” Rooster said, eyeing you curiously. “Is there a specific reason you called and said meet me at the beach before hanging up or was that your way of saying you want to hang out more?” he asked, trying to add a joking tone but the look on your face told him there was something more going on.

“I’m going to the middle east,” you said, deciding not to beat around the bush and the look of shock on his face was not missed by you.

“You’re going… to the middle east?” he asked, trying to process it. “For vacation, or…?”

“With the Army,” you replied and his eyes widened further than you thought they could.

“You’re being deployed? You joined the Army?” his face twisted up in disgust at the last one… of all the branches why couldn’t it have been his own? “When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago… we had a visiting surgeon, he was teaching the trauma department updated techniques rooted in efficiency, and we got a crash course in disaster response. He and I got to talking afterwards, he said he saw something in me, something that reminded him of himself, he frequently goes on tours where he’s needed to offer medical support.”

“So you joined the Army because this dude saw something in you and just said hey wanna come to the middle east?” he asked and you softly smiled, this was good. This was the reaction you were anticipating, Rooster was a trial run and he was doing exactly what you needed to give you the confidence to tell everyone else.

You shook your head, “I’ve always felt drawn to this, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this story but to keep it brief during my residency I had to go in the field to respond to a trauma, gnarly train crash… it was exhilarating, if that’s not an entirely fucked up thing to say, there’s something different about being there in the moment when it feels like the sky is falling and there’s no time to get them to a hospital, or even no hospital to get them to.”

“I mean, I get it… I’d be a hypocrite to tell you I didn’t, different context but same calling. I just… this is kind of insane, Jupiter.”

You nodded, “I know. When he told me that he was leaving with a group in a few weeks I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I really tried to push past it and tell myself it wasn’t real, it was just a fun simulation, but then the train crash dawned on me and I realized I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while. And it just makes sense to me, you know? There’s a shortage of medical personnel, even fewer surgeons. It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Have you talked to Jake, does he know?”

“No. You were my practice run,” you joked. “How’d I do?”

“Well, you got to the point… gave clear and precise answers, but J… I’m not in love with you. The fear I feel about you going over there into active warzones doesn’t even compare to what Jake’s going to feel.”

You gasped, “you’re not in love with me?” you asked, placing a hand over your chest in faux shock and he just shoved your shoulder at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“Cut it out,” he chuckled. “I was a shitty practice run, you know I’m never going to tell you not to do something you feel called to do no matter how much I want to throw you in a padded room until this desire of yours fades, but Jake? I mean, he just got you back, you two just got settled into the routine of being back together, and now you’re going to tell him you’re shipping out to a warzone.”

“I know, the timing sucks.”

“You’re really sure about this?” he asked and you nodded. “Because, J… you’re going to come back different, you’re going to see things, do things… this is one of those decisions you can’t undo.”

“I know, it’s not going to be easy… for me, for Jake, for the rest of you but, I really think I need to do this, Roo.”

“Well, I think you’re brave. And I’m really proud of you,” he said, wrapping an arm around you as you settled into his side. “But really? The Army?”

You let out a laugh, “if it makes you feel any better I didn’t join the Army, I’m not suddenly active duty. It’s just a three-month tour, think of it like being a private contractor.”

“That does make me feel better, otherwise I might have had to limit our interactions… appearances and all,” he said and you laughed again. “Now come on, you’ve gotta get inside,” he said, pulling you up with him and you looked at him questioningly.

“I have to?” you asked as he tugged you along, “what’s the rush for lukewarm beer?”

“Can’t tell you that, I don’t know if you’re going to find the timing of this terrible or perfect but that’s not up to me.” he said and now you were thoroughly confused as he held the door open for you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” But, it didn’t matter, he was gone just as quickly as you’d walked into the bar and you smiled as Jake saw you and wrapped you up in a hug.

“There you are, sweetheart, you okay?” he asked, seeing the squirrelly look in your eyes and you nodded, shaking off your conversation with Rooster as you accepted the beer he’d handed you. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Rooster’s just being a tad bit bizarre,” you answered and he chuckled.

“Well, that’s what he does.” he replied and you nodded with a laugh as he led you towards your friends and you narrowed your eyes as everyone had a rather mischievous look on their faces. You heard the piano begin the opening notes of Drops of Jupiter and you gathered that’s where Rooster had run off to in a hurry.

“Okay, what is going on?” you asked as you turned around and you furrowed your brows when Jake was no longer there before adjusting your eye line to see him on one knee before you and you brought your hand up to cover your mouth in shock as your heart pounded in your ears. I don’t know if you’re going to find the timing of this terrible or perfect. It all made sense now.

“Jupiter, I have loved you since I was ten years old… It just took me until junior year to realize it and I’ve known it every day since. We’ve spent the majority of our lives following our own dreams until they led us right back to each other and even though it was difficult I wouldn’t change our story for anything… Being able to watch you grow into yourself and become an amazing surgeon has been the single greatest joy of my life, and I’m so excited for us to finally grow together. I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you got to San Diego, so will you do me the honor of finally becoming my wife?” he asked, eyes full of hope as he flicked the box open to reveal the ring you’d loved since you were little and you felt tears slip down your cheeks as you looked at him. The entire bar had gone silent waiting for your answer and you could feel your friends fighting to stay contained behind you as they watched.

“Yes,” you whispered, there were so many things up in the air, so many things you had to tell him but this was an easy answer. You would have said yes to a ring pop in the aisle of a convenience store. The entire bar erupted in cheers as he stood and slid it onto your finger before pulling you in for a searing kiss. Rooster was still playing the melody in the background but you could hear his sounds of celebration from across the bar and you giggled as Jake released you. You were swept up, the rest of the gang wanting to see the ring and crush you in hugs and when the song ended and the jukebox kicked back on you felt Rooster’s arms on you as he came up behind you.

“You need to talk to him,” he whispered in your ear as you rested your hands on his forearms.

“I know, just… not right now,” you said as the two of you watched him excitedly talk with Phoenix.

“I’m really happy for you, J,” he said, kissing your cheek as he let you go and you gave him a gracious smile before walking down to the bar.

“Let me see!” Penny nearly yelled at you and you held out your hand with a laugh as she examined it thoroughly. “He picked a good one,” she said as she set a drink in front of you.

You chuckled, “oh no, as good as he is I basically picked this out when I was thirteen years old,” you replied. “This was one of his grandma’s rings.”

“That’s so special,” she said as Maverick side-swiped you and wrapped you in a hug that had you letting out a surprised squeal. 

“The first Dagger wedding!” he said as you laughed, “I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“Thank you, Mav,” you replied, face hurting from the splitting smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face but in the back of your mind you knew it couldn’t last… you were leaving in a week and only one person in this bar knew. You let Jake twirl you around the bar, creating a dance floor where there wasn’t one as your friends shrouded you in love, watching through misty eyes as the two of you enjoyed your bubble of bliss. When the song ended you looked up at him, imprinting this moment into your mind before you drove a wrecking ball through it and you stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear talk with me outside?

Your friends watched as you slipped out the door before they went back to their normal routines, assuming the two of you were taking a moment alone but Rooster knew better and he gave you a supportive smile when you caught his eyes. “How are you feeling, future Mrs. Sersein?” he asked and you beamed up at him.

“I like the way that sounds… but it’s future Dr. Seresin, thank you very much,” you corrected and he let out a laugh.

“My apologies, darling,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and you were silent for a moment, fixating on your hands currently pressed against his chest and his eyebrows furrowed as he noticed your change in demeanor. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I have something to tell you,” you said suddenly and even you were taken aback by how you spit that out.

“Okay?” he prompted, leading you to the chairs on the other side of the patio where you sat and avoided his expectant stare.

“Do you remember how I was telling you about that Army doctor who came to town a few weeks ago?” you started and he nodded.

“Yeah, the disaster training you wouldn’t stop yammering about,” he teased and you just gave him a sad smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, uh… oh, this was so much easier with Rooster.” you sighed and now he was really concerned.

“What does Rooster know that I don’t?”

“He told me about a tour heading out next week to the middle east, a three-month rotation. I… I tried not to think about it, to pretend I didn’t want to go, but I really, really wanted to go and before I could fully stop myself I signed up.”

“You signed up? What does that mean?”

“It means next week I’m shipping out to the middle east,” you said, and you watched him process your words. “For three months.” 

“Okay, uh…” he started, trying to gather his thoughts. “This is set in stone, then? You’ve fully signed yourself up?” You nodded, wishing he would stop asking questions and get to the part where he’s mad at you. “And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?”

“I wanted to… but I was focusing more on trying to talk myself out of it and then it was like a fever dream, I was suddenly calling that Army doc and telling him to put me on the list.” 

“Did you think I was going to get mad at you? Is that why you talked to Rooster first?” he asked and you didn’t miss the tone of hurt in his voice.

You nodded again, “he was my trial run, as weird as that is.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird, honey, he’s your best friend, as much as that’s something that doesn’t make sense to me, talking to him first does, I just… you and I are best friends and partners, you’ve gotta talk to me before you make big decisions like this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, tears welling in your eyes and he was quick to wipe them away when they fell.

“Well, if you had talked to me before you took this on all by yourself, I would have told you that I want you to do what makes you happy, and if that means doing this tour then I support you. Am I mad you kept me in the dark? Totally, but you and I have been making big decisions separately for almost a decade, it’s going to take time to get used to being partners again.” he said and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. “This terrifies me, J, but this is just who you are… you want to help people, even if that means shipping yourself off somewhere dangerous. How could I ever fault you for that?”

“You’re not mad that I’m going?” you asked in disbelief and he let out a soft laugh.

“Of course not, sweetheart.” He wrapped his hands around yours that sat in your lap. “You’re going on a deployment, do you know how much of an ass I would be if I even tried to be mad at you for that? I’m going to do this to you at some point, granted I never thought I’d be on the opposite end of this situation, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I love you so much, you know that?” you asked as he tugged you up and pulled you into his lap.

“Not as much as I love you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I want to get married,” you said and he laughed at you.

“Sweetheart, we are… unless you wildly misunderstood what that just was in there.”

“No, right now, this week… before I leave,” you said and his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely, I… I know we’re not talking about the danger aspect because we both understand and we don’t need to get into it but there is danger and… I don’t want anything holding you back from getting answers or being the first one contacted if something does happen.”

“Yes,” he said, kissing you again. “I thought you were going to make me wait a whole year to finally call you my wife.” 

“Never,” you replied, giggling as he swept you up and carried you back towards the bar. “We’re going to be good, right?”

“Better than good.”

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[darling-i-read-it]

Arcade Lovers

Steve Harrington x fem!Henderson!reader

Word Count: 3.5k 

Warnings: talks of shotgunning a beer, references to Mews death :(, flufff

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of a fic with the same name from ages ago. Steven <3 I cannot WAIT to do a billy one you guys aren’t ready lol. Enjoy! 

Original request: by @yumyumbicth, Hey! I read Sparks Fly and I loved it! Could you possibly do a one shot where Steve is pining after Dustin's sister and Dustin says the "Don't worry, she likes your butt and fancy hair. I read it in her diary" Thing from Lilo and Stitch? I think it would be really cute and funny 

Song: lips like sugar by echo and the bunnymen

(not my gif)

Steve and Dustin were unlikely duos. They never would’ve been caught up in the same area if you hadn’t been out of town for one week when the Upside Down decided to come back to life. When you left Hawkins El was dead and when you came back she was alive. Dustin caught you up the second you got home but half way through his explanation there was a knock on the front door.

Steve Harrington was on the other side. 

“Steve?” you said, a glimmer of suspiciousness in your eyes. You knew of Steve. You had maybe spoken to him once but you had never been friends. You were in different crowds. 

“She came back!” Steve exclaimed to Dustin who was behind you.

“Just an hour ago!” your brother explained. “I was just telling her everything that happened while she was gone.” 

“She knows?” 

“She helped with the whole thing at the beginning. You don’t remember her and Nancy were friends?” Steve shook his head, though there was a deeper emotional problem with that time.

“But I was there at the end,” Steve argued. “I hit the demogorgon with the baseball bat.” Your eyes went wide. You hadn’t heard about that. Granted, no one really talked about that time. Nancy only spoke on it when she was feeling particularly sad about Barb. She did not miss what she had with Steve. She always missed what she had with Barb. 

“She was with us at the school,” Dustin explained. 

“With El and Hopper and Joyce. Etc,” you said.

“I hadn’t gotten to your part in the recent story,” Dustin said. 

“I thought I was taking you to the arcade?” Steve said, confused. You raised an eyebrow. Steve was taking Dustin to the arcade now? 

“That was the plan but I didn’t know she was coming home today.” 

“Pretty sure it’s on the calendar,” you suggested but Dustin ignored you. You pressed on. “What happened between the two of you?”

Steve let out a sigh of exhaustion. You could tell he wanted to explain it all to you though. Steve struck you as the kind of guy who liked to brag about his experiences, though at this particular moment you actually wanted to listen.

“We have chips,” Dustin said, as an offering to his older friend. Steve shrugged.

“I don’t have anything else planned.”

He walked into the home and sat down on the couch where you and Dustin had been talking. 

“Where was I?” Dustin questioned, using his D&D voice. You went into the kitchen, grabbing some pop and different bags of chips. “So Dart had just taken out Mews,” Dustin started as you threw Steve some soda. He caught it with ease. You tried not to be attracted to the small act. 

“Still can’t believe it,” you grumbled. You were trying not to think about Mews. “This is why mom says you can’t have any pets. They’ll kill the cats.” Steve nodded, opening up the soda can. He looked at your unopened one. 

“Can you shotgun that?” It was a coke. You raised an eyebrow. Dustin didn’t stop talking. 

“Maybe,” you trailed off. 

“Literally catching up on life changing events here!” Dustin said, waving his hand in front of you. 

“It’s a soda, Steve.” He nodded once. You could tell he swallowed hard. You smiled a bit, confused but not deterred Steve’s eyes remained on you. 

“You’re starring,” Dustin deadpanned. Steve hit your shoulder, much to your surprise. 

“There was a bug.” Dustin tried not to laugh. He was a really bad liar. You turned back to Dustin. 

“Rest in Peace Mews. Go on Dusty.” 

-

You appreciated Steve. You liked that you didn’t have to drive your little brother everywhere because now Steve would do it. You liked that it seemed like Nancy breaking his heart had softened him. He knew what he had done wrong and he was looking to fix it.

You liked that he could always be an unpaid babysitter.

You liked that he had protected the kids when you couldn’t. 

You vowed never to leave that long again. 

“There are too many bikes,” Steve admitted. You nodded, looking at the bikes that were strewed along the front lawn of your house. A few were propped up properly but two were just dropped. You recognized Max’s and Mike’s on the ground. 

“You can come back here and they can get their bikes,” you offered. 

“It’ll be cold and dark by the time we get back.”

Steve was taking the kids out to the arcade. Billy usually took Max but she had wiggled away today.  This meant there were now six children he had to take. His car held five and only two bikes. You had your moms van she had bought when Dustin was born. It was soccer mom large. 

“I didn’t offer to give up my afternoon Steve.” 

“I know you didn’t.” His words seemed forgiving but his voice betrayed him. He wanted you to take them. Did he want help wrangling them together? Did he want you to just take all of them? 

Did he want to hang out with you?

You pursed your lips. 

“Fine. But you’re buying.” You ignored the charming smile that reached his lips and turned around. “I’ll go get them.” 

You walked up the stairs, opening up Dustin’s bedroom door without knocking. Mike was sitting on the bed beside Will and Max and El were on the ground. Lucas stood in front of the girl, holding one of Dustin’s figures. 

“Let’s go. Where’s Dustin?” It was like you had frozen them all with magic. Their voices trailed off. “Where’s Dustin?” There was movement coming from the room next door. Your room. You cursed under your breath and opened up the door with aggression. Dustin was sitting on your bed, your diary open wide in front of him. His eyes went wide when he saw you and he quickly tried to shove it back into your dresser drawer. “You little shit.” 

“There’s some juicy stuff in there!” he exclaimed, getting up to back away from you into the corner. You picked up the pillow at the end of your bed and threw it at him, narrowly missing. You climbed over the sheets and picked up whatever you could get your hands on. 

“Get out of my room!” Dustin went to rush away when he ran right into Steve who was in the doorframe. Steve grabbed your brother by the shoulders, confused. Dustin ran past him, pushing him aside. With wide eyes Steve’s gaze landed on you. 

“He was going through my diary,” you seethed. 

“Isn’t that what brothers are for?”

“You’re an only child Harrington.” You threw a pillow weakly at him too. He caught it. “He’s riding with you.” 

-

Steve knocked on the door one sunny afternoon hoping you would answer. He wasn’t sure when he had started hoping it was you instead of Dustin. It was a subtle desire at first, like a smile reserved for the times you greeted him. He was always excited to talk to you. If he was being honest, despite you and Steve being in the same grade he had never noticed you around school. Now you wouldn’t leave his head. He offered taking everyone anywhere now because he knew he would get to see you.

When Dustin opened the door he let out a sigh. 

“I told you that my sister was taking me today,” he said, suspiciously. Dustin had always kind of seen what was going on between you and Steve. It was natural and it was a given. You couldn’t hang out that much and not love each other in some way. He also thought it was hilarious neither of you had made a move yet. From what Steve told him, he was pretty used to making the first move and Dustin knew he had no problem being rejected. 

This was like Dustin’s own little experiment. How long could you last without caving in or losing interest? His hypothesis was, not much longer. 

“Oh man I must have gotten my dates mixed up. Well I have nothing else going on.” Steve walked through the door uninvited. You were sitting in the living room when your eyes flicked up to him. 

“You’re not scheduled for today,” you observed. 

“Do we have a schedule I haven’t seen?” 

“I told him you were taking me,” Dustin admitted, shutting the door behind him. You and Steve stared at each other for a moment. 

“I can take him,” Steve offered, tossing his keys into the air.

“I can too.”

“Why don’t we just all go,” Dustin suggested. He grabbed Steve’s keys out of his hand. “We’ll take Steve’s and save you the gas. You can tell mom you watched me. Win win.”

“Loss for me, I’m out of gas,” Steve argued.

“Then why did you come here?” Dustin questioned, eyeing him. He was trying to be a wingman but geez, Steve didn’t ever make it easy. 

“You’re right,” Steve muttered. 

“Alright. Shotgun,” you said, getting off the couch. You walked to put on your shoes. Steve and Dustin shared a look as you walked into the other room. 

“Dude you have got to make a move,” Dustin whispered. 

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. She’ll only stay on the market for so long. Nancy was trying to set her up with a friend from school.” Steve’s eyes went wide. Well when he put it like that. 

“Does she even like me?”

“I read it in her diary. She likes your butt and your fancy hair,” Dustin said, disgust in his voice. A flash of hope went over Steve’s face. 

“She likes my hair?” 

Steve cleared his throat as you walked back in. 

“Ready?” you questioned. Steve answered enthusiastically.

“Yup!” 

-

Though you never actually spent a lot of time in Palace Arcade, you always found yourself enjoying it. The energy inside was electric and there was always someone screaming about some high score. The food was indulgent and it was cheap. You could usually buy food for the entire crew for only like 20 dollars. 

Steve shoved Dustin towards the games as you walked through the doors. You could hear Mike’s voice somewhere within the condensed crowd. Dustin turned back around. He wasn’t about to let go that easily. 

“Will you guys get food?” he asked, hopeful. Steve and you shared a look, despite the fact that you were both hungry and you would probably cave no matter what he said. 

“What do you want?” Steve asked begrudgingly.

“Nachos with extra cheese and extra meat.” 

“A large nachos. Gotcha,” Steve muttered. “Go find out what the others want.” Dustin wasted no time in escaping away. You and Steve walked through to the front where there were a couple tables. Most weren’t cleaned off yet but neither of you seemed to mind as you sat down to claim a spot.

“You didn’t have to come today,” you told him. You and Steve rarely had any time alone. You found yourself looking forward to it, despite the nerves bubbling in your chest. What if you had been reading the signs wrong? Wasn’t Steve like this with every girl who crossed his path? Hell, he pulled Nancy Wheeler. 

“Don’t tell him but I really don’t mind carting them around. It makes me feel important.” You laughed gently. 

“You are important,” you said and you meant it. You were surprised at the sincerity in your voice. “Plus, I think he likes having two older siblings he can boss around.”

“I don’t think of us as siblings.”

“Not you and me. We’re not siblings.”

“No, absolutely not,” he promised. You both laughed. You liked making him laugh. You liked the way he smiled when he laughed. 

Dustin came back through the crowd. 

“Two nachos, two hot dogs.” 

“Who's all here?” you questioned, suspiciously. You held up your finger, counting. “Mike…you..” 

“And Lucas and Will.” 

“No girls today?” 

“None.” You looked through the crowd. You pursed your lips and nodded slowly. 

“Fine. We’ll call you over.” Dustin nodded and once again, he was gone. You turned back to Steve. “We splitting this one?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You ordered for everyone, knowing what Steve wanted before he even knew. He watched you with care and he ended up paying for the whole thing. You gave him a gentle hard time but you were grateful despite it. 

You waited together off to the side. He leaned against the wall, facing you. You faced him, starting to feel self conscious under his gaze. 

“Whatcha thinking about Harrington?”

“Do you like my hair?” You raised an eyebrow. That was random.

“I do.” You lifted an arm, brushing your fingers through it. He let you, even though he typically would’ve swatted the hand away. He shivered under the touch of your fingers against his scalp. “No one has hair like you Harrington,” you promised. It felt like it was just the two of you. You liked being alone with him. Even if you weren’t alone with him. 

You wondered what it would feel like to be in an empty house with Steve Harrington. No little brothers, no friends, no strangers. Just you and him. What would that be like? 

You were dying to find out. 

You dropped your hand. 

He grabbed it before it fell completely to your side. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“Just curious.” If that was true…

“Steve-”

“Do you wanna go out? With me.” You tried to hide your glee and forced forward your surprise. 

“Like a date?” 

“Like a date.” There was some sort of confidence in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment before. You smiled gently and leaned your back against the wall, staring away from him. You hummed, like you were thinking, even though you already had your answer on the tip of your tongue. 

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want.”

“The arcade?” He smiled, nodding. 

“If you want twenty bucks in quarters then I’ll hand them over,” he promised. You met his eyes. 

“Sure Steve.” He wanted to fist pump the air. He refrained but the look remained in his eye as though he had. 

“Steve!” A voice behind a counter called. The food was ready. He turned and you thought it might break him out of the moment but he grabbed the tray and looked right back at you with those same eyes. 

“We can go somewhere that isn’t the arcade.” 

“Well we already know how to get here.” 

“We could have our date right now.” You suggested. “Though I don’t know if you could cop a feel with my little brother running around.” He set the tray down on the table and before you could sit down he grabbed your hip, pulling you closer. You breathed out sharply, your face heating up. You were close now. So close. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

“It’s good. It’s really good,” you said through giggles. You liked being this close to him. He started to move in, breathing evenly and you would’ve kissed him like it was the last thing you could ever do if not for-

“Is that the food?” 

You dropped each other. Dustin’s voice could cut through anything. 

“Y-yeah,” Steve stammered. The confidence in his voice had not left but he remained slightly embarrassed. Dustin nodded slowly, approaching. 

“I’m gonna take this to everyone.”

“That’s mine and Steve’s,” you explained, grabbing your food off the tray. Dustin nodded.  He looked between the two of you warily. The group had made their way closer, damning the rest of the moment. You and Steve sat down anyway, dividing up sauces and drinks. 

“You got coke?” he questioned. You nodded, offering some to him. He took it, taking a drink through the straw. He had opted for sprite. 

“Can you shotgun that?” you teased. He rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at you as he swallowed. 

“I’ve yet to see you shotgun anything,” he said. “I don’t think you can do it.”

“Don’t open up the floodgates like that Harrington. You know I like to win.”

“That’s what I like about you. Nobody likes a loser.” You rolled your eyes and ate a fry, dipping it into his sauce. “Well?” 

“Hm?”

He gestured to the coke vendor to the side. They sold cans; not cups. You scoffed. 

“Here? In the middle of the children's arcade?”

“It’s not alcohol!” he said. You sat in silence for a moment, chewing and thinking. You narrowed your eyes at him. It wasn’t exactly the most attractive thing you could do in the moment but the defiance in his eyes made you want to act anyway. You got up, the chair squeaking as you pushed it back. You walked over and hit the side of the vending machine. A coke fell out. It was an arcade secret that it did that if you hit it just right. Will had taught you. You didn’t think he had it in him. 

You walked back over to Steve. You sat across from him, shoved a hole into the bottom half of the can and put your lips over it. You opened up the tab and tilted your head upwards, keenly away that some of it was spilling over your chin.

Once the coke was gone you put the can down, crushed. You wiped your mouth. 

Steve looked like you had just reignited his reasons for living. 

“You happy now?”

He leaned over the table and kissed you. You tasted of coca cola, your lips still seemingly fizzing. You gasped into his lips but didn’t bother pulling away. You wanted this. You wanted to taste him for the first time, even if he had the aftertaste of soda. He wanted you to be closer to him. He didn’t want to have to pull away to get you closer though. 

You pulled out for air. 

“That was so hot.” You laughed gently, sitting back in your chair. You wanted to tell him that he was so hot but you refrained from making the moment any more cheesy. You crossed your arms. 

“Your turn.”

“I’ll do it when we drink together. You should see me shotgun two.”

“That sounds like a sight for sore eyes, Harrington.” You wrapped your foot around his lower leg, pulling it towards you. It was weak but he didn’t need a lot of prompting to kiss you again. 

“Hey! This is a public space!” Keith called. Seeing him after kissing Steve was quite the come down. “Save it for the bedroom,” he hissed. He had cheeto dust on his mouth. Steve eyed him with a slight annoyance. 

“We’re paying customers, you can’t tell us what to do.” 

“I can,” Keith promised. “I can kick you out and your little group of children.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Relax Keith. We’re just hanging out.” Your chair had moved closer to Steve’s. You wondered if he had pulled it towards him while you were distracted. You were now right next to each other. You threw your arm over the back of his chair. “Eating our fries. You caught us.” Keith gave you a glare. 

“Okay mom and dad Jesus.” You and Steve met each other’s eyes for just a moment and then his eyes were back on the road. It felt right being here. It felt like this was where it was all supposed to lead to. 

“So you guys should get married,” Dustin suggested. The car filled with laughter. Steve’s hand was on your thigh. The level of domesticity led you to believe he had been thinking about this a while. You loved his hand being there. You loved that he was touching you. 

“Don’t jinx anything Henderson,” Steve said to the rearview mirror.

“I didn’t jinx anything.” He turned to Mike and gestured to his left ring finger. He mouthed something you didn’t catch.

“No gossiping,” you snapped.

“Okay mom and dad Jesus.” You and Steve met each other’s eyes for just a moment and then his eyes were back on the road. It felt right being here. It felt like this was where it was all supposed to lead to. 

Though you didn’t want your second date to be at the arcade. 

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #steve harrington fanfiction

[invivoinsomnium]

Shower sec is top notch so...

I've been watching you for a while I've picked you. You are going to carry my babies so one day while you're in the shower I silently break into your apartment I sit in your bathroom for a minute watching you before stripping off and getting in behind you shoving you against the wall.

"oh don't fight baby I don't wanna have to break any of your pretty little limbs" of course you still do but I easily over power you holding your jaw forcing you to lay against my chest looking at me while I fuck your tight pussy "You gonna carry my babies" you scream and cry but I just carry on.

"I know it hurts but it'll be worth it" I smile you were tight and sore whimpering and crying begging me too stop if already stretched you to a slight tear and now I'm brutally pounding you bruising your cervix "Gonna fill you up baby"

I finally cum shoving you against the shower wall pulling out while you fight I just get hard again picking you up taking you to your bed rummaging in my pocket handcuffing you to the bed. I use you for a few more hours before having had enough for now.

I knock you out and dress you carrying you to my car avoiding any cameras and people. When you come to you are in my bed ropes thing your wrists and ankles into a star shape. I was overtop of you mercilessly pounding you're tight overfilled pussy "Gonna fill you till you give me those babies Hun"

You wriggle and scream but it's no use we are in the middle of nowhere. It didn't take long with in 8 weeks of daily torture I had knocked you up you were growing quiet quickly as well. I didn't stop though still fucking you through every night untying you by the third month you couldn't get out of the room anyway.

You had free roam once I'd finally fucked you enough for you to stop fighting. I sit you in my lap one day rubbing your bump "look at you" I hum. "can't wait for you to push these out" if you dared to speak up asking about a hospital I'd just laugh in your face "Hospital why would you need a hospital you're doing it right here"

At around 8 months early in the morning you wake up to your water breaking you shake me awake but I just grab your jaw telling you to shut the fuck up not to make a sound until my alarm goes off five hours from then. I roll over to fall back asleep leaving you in agony.

You cross your legs shifting to relive the pressure as best as you can. When my alarm finally goes off I get up forcing you onto your back spreading your legs "I'll call the Dr shall I?" I laugh seeing the hope in your face before just pulling on a medical glove checking how dilated you are.

I hold your thighs to your chest as you were only 8 I instruct you to get up and walk around ignoring your pain. When you were ready to push I stripped you naked tying you to the bed.

As the contractions occur and you push no progress seems to happen you spend almost an hour in agony as you push with nothing you feel intense burning in your birth canal and you are begging me I put a new glove on checking just to feel feet "Oh looks like baby wanted to be stubborn as well" I push down on your stomach screaming at you to push and stop hurting our babies.

It took two hours for the first baby who tore he lays on your chest screaming and I hold your face shaking your head "Keep pushing Hun" I rub your thighs ome baby feeding the other refusing to come sitting in your birth canal he sits there for four hours of painful agonising contractions he seems to be kicking at your insides as well.

I won't step in as you bare down screaming in agony. When finally with a ripping sound his head pops out I watch as you scream and try pushing the rest of him out he pops out and I put him on your chest.

After your placenta comes out I decide to clean and stitch you up with no numbing or anything. I kiss your head "Good job mama starting tomorrow we'll try for more yeah" I walk out leaving you in agony with screaming crying babies

Anon, that was hot. I loved it. I really have nothing more to say because that had everything. I'll admit, when you mentioned calling the doctor I though for a fact you'd be bringing in a doctor you paid to assist the delivery or even a midwife. One who only truly cared about ensuring a successful delivery.

I do admit I'm torn between the idea of this taking place in a basement and me birthing on a matress or iron wrought bed or having been moved into a bedroom (yours) for the pregnancy and the basement being turned into a makeshift delivery room.

Either way, this was a wonderful read.

#invivo answers #rp idea #dark #forcedimpregnation #birthing #tw forcedpregnancy #tw kidnapping