#AND a gun holster.. made a knife holster too

[no-mercy-bby]

If you don't believe inspo comes from the most random things, you're wrong.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hello if you’re still doing Bucky one shots can you please do a Bucky x f!reader who gets kidnapped and controlled/programmed by Hydra and Bucky fights to get through to her and break the programming by having filthy sex

Break Through » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x HYDRA Agent!FemaleReader

Summary: Y/N got kidnapped by HYDRA and Bucky tries to break through the programming to get her back to her normal self in a different way.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, use of pet names.

A/N: Y/N is referred to as HYDRA’s Princess.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky cautiously walked through the HYDRA base with his gun held out in front of him, in search for you. You got kidnapped by HYDRA three months ago and Bucky finally found the base you’re being held in. Bucky’s attention was quickly turned on the room down the hall when he heard a loud noise. When he walked in the room, he checked every part of it. That’s when the door slammed shut. Bucky quickly turned around with his gun held out.

“Y/N?” Bucky says softly, slowly lowering his gun.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked, tilting your head.

“What did they do to you, doll?” He asks, putting his gun in the holster.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m HYDRA’s new princess.” You tell him, slowly walking towards him.

“No you’re not. You’re an Avenger.” He says.

You chuckled and looked at him, stopping just a few feet from him.

“How would you know, Soldat?” You questioned.

Bucky cringed when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a while.

“The Y/N I know is sweet and loving. Not a HYDRA agent.” He says.

“That Y/N is long gone, Soldat. I haven’t been her in quite some time.” You tell him. “Now…” You pulled a knife from the holster on your thigh. “Let’s get down to business.” You start, twirling the knife in your hand. “You have two options. One, you willingly come with me back to the lab and get your memory wiped and back under our control. Two, we fight. I suggest you choose wisely.” You say.

“I’m not going to fight you, doll. You’re my friend. I don’t fight my friends.” He says.

“Then I’ll choose for you.” You say.

You lunged at him with the knife, but Bucky quickly grabbed your arm with his right hand and took the knife from your hand with his vibranium hand, throwing it somewhere in the room.

“Y/N, listen to me. This isn’t you. They have you under their control. You have to fight this and break through it.” He says.

You threw a punch at him with your free fist. Bucky let go of your arm and put his hand on his jaw where you punched him. You threw a few more punches at him before lifting your leg to roundhouse kick him, but Bucky grabbed your leg and made you fall to the floor. You used your foot to knock Bucky to the floor next to you. You got on top of him, straddling him.

“Is that your gun or are you happy to see me, Soldat?” You asked with a smirk when you felt his bulge pressing against your clothed pussy.

“Both.” He answers.

Bucky caught you off guard by flipping the two of you over so now you’re on the floor and he’s on top of you. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. You squirmed in his hold to get out, but he was too strong.

“You gonna show me a good time, Soldat?” You asked.

“That depends. Are you going to be a good girl for me or are we going to do this the hard way?” He asks.

“I love doing things the hard way.” You say with a smirk.

“Hard way it is then.” He says.

Bucky’s vibranium hand unbuttoned and unzipped the button and zipper on your tactical pants. He slid his hand inside of your pants, rubbing your pussy through wet panties. You moaned and bucked your hips against his hand. He moved your panties to the side, his vibranium fingers rubbed from your clit to your tight entrance. His unexpectedly slid two of his vibranium fingers inside of you, making you gasp. He thrusted them in and out of you at a fast pace. You were almost like putty in his hands.

“More!” You begged.

“You want more? I’ll give you more, doll.” Bucky says.

Bucky pulled his vibranium fingers out of you to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip the button and zipper on his tactical pants. He pulled them down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. He let go of your wrists to pull down your tactical pants and panties in one go. You couldn’t help but stare at his cock.

“My eyes are up here, doll face.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.

Bucky flipped you over onto your stomach and lifted your hips up so your ass was sticking out towards him. He pumped his cock in his right hand a couple times before rubbing in between your wet folds, covering it with your slick. You gasped when you felt his tip at your entrance. He slowly slid his cock inside of you till he was balls deep inside of you.

“Is that it?” You asked teasingly with a giggle.

Bucky pulled out almost all the way, only leaving his tip inside of you and unexpectedly thrusting back inside of you roughly, making you moan loudly. His hands held onto your hips tightly as he fucked you, occasionally bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“C’mon, doll. You know me.” Bucky says.

You shook your head no, not able to form coherent words, just moans. Your mind was all over the place. You wanted to fight him and finish your mission, but at the same time you wanted him to fuck you senseless like he’s doing in this very moment. Bucky moved your hair and leaned down, kissing along your neck. You gasped when you felt his teeth nip your skin hard enough for hickeys. Your cunt squeezed around his cock as a reaction.

“That’s a start.” Bucky says against your skin. “Your pussy remembers me.” He says with a light chuckle.

“Shut up and fuck me harder!” You managed to say without moaning.

“Fuck you harder? Your wish is my command, doll face.” He smirks.

Bucky sat up on his knees and got a good grip on your hips and began pounding into you. That’s when your mind went fuzzy, along with pleasure taking over your body. Your mind was moving a million miles an hour. It felt like there was so many things going on. You couldn’t tell if this was HYDRA’s control on you or if you were trying to break through it. Either or, you were loving what’s happening in this very moment.

“I- mmm fuck!” You moaned, trying to form a sentence.

“C’mon, doll. You can break through the control. I know you can.” He says.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a loud moan left your lips instead when his cock hit your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You say, followed by a moan.

Bucky smirked to himself. His vibranium hand left your hip and found its way to your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. Nothing but moans and screams of pleasure left your lips.

“Talk to me, babydoll.” He says, his voice raspy.

“I’ll help you find what you came here for if you keep fucking me.” You say.

“I already found what I came here for… you.” He says.

That’s when a floodgate of memories came flooding in your mind. Memories of Bucky being restored back in your mind. Your breathing got heavier. Pleasure was about to wash over you when you felt your orgasm building up.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. “Please let me cum!” You begged.

“Cum for me, babydoll.” Bucky pants.

His fingers rubbed faster on your clit. A moan left of his name left your lips as you came. Bucky fucked you through your orgasm with his own orgasm building up. He lost rhythm with his thrusts, but quickly regained it. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you with a moan leaving his lips. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees to catch his breath while you laid on your stomach on the floor. You panted and squeezed your eyes shut as you rolled over onto your back.

“Bucky…” You say breathlessly, looking at him.

“Do you remember me?” Bucky asks.

“Mhmm.” You hummed with a smile.

Bucky hovered over you and leaned down to kiss you passionately. He put his cock back in his boxers and redid his tactical pants. Bucky helped you pull up your panties and tactical pants and helped you stand up. Your legs were wobbly and you fell against Bucky’s chest.

“Let’s get you out of here, doll.” Bucky says softly, picking you up bridal style.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 2

pt 1 / pt3

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)

Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.

TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting

I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.

I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off. 

I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there. 

"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.

After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.

"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."

I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.

There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.

"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.

At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over. 

I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."

At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."

I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.

"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.

"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid. 

We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.

"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed. 

"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed. 

I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring. 

After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.

-

I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."

I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.

"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.

"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.

He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"

I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again. 

"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."

"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."

"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.

He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"

"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out. 

We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him. 

"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. 

"Wha-" I asked confused.

"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me. 

Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off. 

I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me. 

"A fiend." I thought to myself.

Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.

-

The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed. 

"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me. 

I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"

"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along. 

A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal. 

I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"

"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.

"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.

Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office. 

"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face. 

"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.

I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.

"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him. 

"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.

"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.

I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.

I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.

I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me. 

"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.

He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."

"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face. 

"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.

"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve. 

He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him. 

An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.

tag list: @msrawog

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 1 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: this work has been quite a while in the making and im very excited to finally share the first chapter! a huge thank you to the wonderful josie for being my beta reader and listening to all my rambling <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 1 - The Before

‘‘I will be very sad to leave here’, Yves said, suddenly. ‘I have never been happier than I have been in this house.’ ‘I have been very happy too. I wonder if we will ever be so happy again.’’  - Another Country, James Baldwin

You’d been on the run for what felt like weeks but could only have been days when you found the gas station next to an abandoned mall. It had looked promising, the half-rotten advertisements plastered to the walls, reminding your stomach that it had gone far too long without a proper meal, or any meal for that matter.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so starved or so tired, you would’ve heard them coming, the Infected that stormed through the back door practically the moment you slipped into the building. A yell escaped your throat, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife you kept buckled to your leg. You didn't even get the chance to pull it out of its makeshift holster before the creature was on top of you, pinning you to the floor with what felt like inhuman strength.

“Fucking- get off-” you grunted, but even if the thing on top of you had been one that listened to commands, your thin and shaky voice likely wouldn’t have impressed it.

So this was how you were gonna go out. In a town you couldn't even name, somewhere in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, after finally escaping the life you’d been stuck in for so long. You hadn't even made it a month.

For a second, you considered trying to reach for your gun, still tucked into your pants and pressing into your back uncomfortably. You could feel its outline against your skin, a pain shooting through your spine as the Infected seemed to double its effort to reach your neck with its mouth, half-rotten teeth close enough that you could recognize the foul smell of death.

Then, the gun went off. Or you thought it did. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in your ears as the Infected collapsed on top of you. But the feeling of your pistol pressing into your back was still there. It had been a gun. But not yours.

“I got her!” a voice above you bellowed out, an unmistakable southern drawl. “Tommy, give me some cover here, goddammit!”

You hadn't even noticed the second man, who was now aiming his gun at another runner storming towards him. He fired, once, twice, and the Infected let out a howl before its body hit the tiled floor with a thud.

“Hey, you with me?” The man above you leaned down, shoving the Infected that had been on top of you to the side unceremoniously. He was dressed in a worn jacket, jeans and boots, the latter two splattered with blood. His right hand, covered in a weathered leather glove, was stretched out towards you, an invitation to, well, you weren't exactly sure.

“She good?”

The second man approached the pair of you, your eyes flying over to him for a split moment. He was dressed similarly, except that he looked a little younger than his partner. He shouldered his rifle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your gaze flew back to the man in front of you, to the brown eyes that carried an unexpectedly gentle look, not quite matching the gruff way he looked. Shaking slightly, you placed your hand in his, and the next moment, he was pulling you to your feet.

“There you are.”

You nodded, a motion that looked more like your head was jerking on its own accord. But the man seemed to accept it. As the other one stepped towards you, the taller of the two men spoke again.

“You clean?” When no response came, he pressed on, his tone getting a little more impatient. “Did it bite you? Scratch you anywhere?”

The other one gently placed a hand on his chest, forcing your attention onto himself. “Can you walk? Our horses are two houses over, we've got a place where you can rest, get some food-”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you blurted out. You'd had your fair share of people, of men offering you ‘help’ and it never stopped there. There was payment, always. In this world, it was stupid to think there wouldn't be, that anyone would help you out of the kindness of their hearts.

“You're not going anywhere else by the looks of it, either,” the man with the gloves muttered, more than loud enough for you to hear. “You won't last a week.”

“I've lasted longer, asshole,” you shot back, suddenly angry at the stranger in front of you. He didn't know you, he didn't know the things you'd gone through to get here. So what if he had saved your life? It didn't give him the right to predict your death.

The other man nudged his ribs, extending his hand to you as well, though it was more of a formality this time. 

“Name’s Tommy. The asshole is my brother Joel.”

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to approach this the right way. “Look, I'm sure you've been traveling for quite some time. We can give you a place to recover. You can leave anytime, I promise.”

You eyed him carefully. It did sound too good to be true. But it also did sound- good. A roof over your head, warm food in your stomach- two things you'd been craving for quite some time.

“Okay.”

The man who had introduced himself as Tommy gave a short nod and led the way to the horses, following tracks in the snow the two men had left while coming to your rescue. Joel pulled up the rear and you had a feeling that his eyes were trained on you, watching carefully, maybe for a twitch or anything else out of the ordinary. Again, you weren't sure why, but it made you angry.

“I told you I wasn't bit,” you repeated in his direction as Tommy began untying the horses. 

Joel raised a brow, clearly surprised by the attitude in your voice. “‘ts what they usually say.”

“Well, I'm not,” you replied, turning your back on him and focusing on his brother instead. Tommy pretended not to have heard either of you but somehow you were certain he had.

“C’mon, you can ride with me. It's not too far.”

Not too far turned out to be a good hour, the crisp autumn air making you shiver, and you were thankful for the warmth of both the horse and Tommy. But what the ride lacked in temperature it made up for in views, the sun coming out just as you passed the first sign that read ‘Jackson County’.

You didn't even mind Joel's occasional glances towards you as much, finding that with the sunlight playing in his brown curls, his look screamed less of danger and more of concern. Whether it was concern for Tommy or you or something entirely different, you weren't sure.

The answer came to you in the form of your housing arrangements. After getting over the first shock of riding up a busy mainstreet in what looked like an actual, functioning town, a thing you hadn't thought possible anymore, you had made use of what must have been the first functioning toilet you'd seen in months. You felt like a child being steered through the crowd at a busy carnival, if the food hall, the functioning plumbing and electricity and the music drifting from one of the smaller shops was any indication.

“You know we ain't got any unoccupied places and Maria and mine’s no good with the baby screaming all night,” Tommy muttered urgently and you frowned a little. The two men were standing a few feet away, clearly unaware that you were already back and you awkwardly shoved your hands in your pockets, considering going back inside for a moment. But then Joel opened his mouth and you couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. The older man seemed as much a mystery as the entire scene around you.

Tommy piped up before Joel even had a chance to argue. “It's just for a couple of nights. I’m sure Ellie and you will manage. You take her in, explain the basics and as soon as we got a place, you can go back to shutting yourself off from every goddamn person in this town-”

“I don’t-” Joel interrupted before shaking his head, a low grunt leaving his throat.

“Fine. Until Thursday, no longe-” He broke off at the look on Tommys face, one that was aimed directly at you. You shyly nodded in his direction and closed the distance between you in a few quick steps. 

The younger man cleared his throat, giving you a reassuring smile. “Find everything okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied politely. You hated how forced the conversation felt, already regretting listening in on it at all.

“Joel here’s gonna get you settled for the night, you let him know if you need anything else. I'll stop by in the morning and introduce you to Maria, she’s-”

“The boss,” Joel finished for him, earning a small glare from Tommy. 

“One of our elected leaders,” he corrected, another smile playing around his lips at the mention of what you assumed must be his wife. “Well, I'll leave ya two to it.”

Joel took you home. He still gave you that look, and with Tommy gone, you could be sure that it was actually aimed towards you. It was like he was still on guard but whether it was of you or something else, you couldn't tell.

“Here's how this is gonna go,” he started as he fumbled with the front door of the house clad in white. “You get a quick check-up, a shower, some fresh clothes- you get the idea.”

“I get the idea,” you repeated as he led you into the hallway, unable to keep yourself from glancing around for a moment, catching a peek of the dining room. “You live here by yourself?”

“Why?”

His question hit you out of nowhere and you stuttered for a moment, racking your brain for a good response, “Just- I was making conversation. Jesus.”

“Right,” Joel nodded, his gaze softening a bit. He placed his bag onto the floor and tapped his right thigh absent-mindedly. “Come on, follow me.”

He took you into the upstairs bathroom that smelled faintly of soap, reminding you that you hadn't had a proper wash in more days than you cared to count. There were a few small containers, mostly re-used mason jars, that were labeled ‘shampoo’ or ‘body wash’, sitting orderly on the small shelf next to the tub.

You felt more than heard Joel shift behind you and turned to meet his gaze. He was still watching, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for something.

“Do I- shower?” you asked softly and he sighed a little at that. 

“I need to check you for bites.” His voice was low but still carried a small note of sternness in it. 

Oh, right.

“I didn't agree to that.”

You could see his hand twitch, the handle of his revolver still sticking out the back of his jeans. “You're bit.”

It was more of a statement than anything else, like he already knew what was waiting for him under your clothes, maybe a bite on your leg, a scratch on your stomach. Joel had dealt with enough people that had been marked for death like that to know the signs of it. The thing was, he was wrong.

“Is this what it is?” you asked, quietly, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Excuse me?”

“Is that why you go outside, save people? So you can bring them back here, get them to take their clothes off for you-”

“Whoa-” Joel held up both hands, shaking his head very slowly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I need to check you for bites, it’s protocol.” His voice was still deep, that southern drawl you heard earlier in the gas station still present but somehow softer. His features had shifted, seeming genuinely surprised by the turn of your conversation.

“Now, if you want someone else to do it, I can get a lady and let her look you over. We just want to be sure we don’t bring Infected in, that's all.”

“That's all?” you asked as he kept his eyes trained on you, his hands still up in the air and his expression soft.

“I swear, that's all. If you can show me you're not bit, I'll get you that shower, some food, you name it.”

You gave a small nod at that, your body deflating a little. It had been an incredibly long day and the man in front of you seemed genuine. If he wasn't, you could still try and bail.

Joel turned slightly under the pretense of grabbing a towel from below the sink but you knew he was attempting to give you a bit of privacy- even though he clearly didn’t trust you enough to fully turn his back on you. With shaky hands, you began to strip, holding back a wince as you forced your bruised body to move. The fabric of your shirt clung to your skin, dry blood forcing another whimper out of your throat.

You felt Joel's head snap towards you at that but ignored him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing quite how uncomfortable you felt about going through this with him next to you.

He was quick and professional, his large hands brushing over your skin as he made sure you were clean.

“All good,” he commented shortly when he was satisfied, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he reached for a stack of folded towels. Then, his gaze rested on your head again, more specifically, on your matted hair.

“You want me to get someone to cut that for you? Might be easier than-”

“No,” you quickly piped up. You knew your body was malnourished and likely had a dozen other things wrong with it. You didn’t want to lose your hair too.

Joel nodded, his hand absent-mindedly trailing over a particularly nasty knot. “I think I got some soap conditioner in the closet. You want to give that a try?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you responded curtly and Joel disappeared from the room for a few moments. He came back, as promised, with a soap smelling of jasmine and cotton. 

He didn’t seem as hesitant, now that he knew you weren’t bit. At least that’s what you assumed had caused the shift in him. It didn’t occur to you that it might be the fact that you were sitting on his bathroom tiles, shivering, assuming the worst in him, in men, hell, in society. That you looked like a wounded deer, ready to take off at the slightest notion of danger, no matter how badly you were already bleeding.

Joel was a lot more gentle than you would have expected a man of his build to be. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, reaching just far enough to cover your entire hair, but never letting any conditioner run down onto your face. It made you wonder if he was a father. Then you remembered his brother had mentioned a girl earlier, Ellie. Still, you knew better than to ask. You’d likely be gone in a few days anyway.

But, there was one question that you couldn’t keep from slipping out of your mouth.

“Why did you think I was bit?”

Joel paused for a moment, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he seemed to think about his words.

“You weren’t fighting hard enough. To stay alive, I mean. You were acting like someone who knows that their time is up.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt his hand brush over the crown of your head, lathering the matted mess that was your hair with soap in small, circular motions.

“I thought it was,” you whispered, honestly. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't bring yourself to explain it either.

He didn’t ask.

Neither of you spoke again until you were curled up in his bed, him insisting to take the couch for the night. He’d fed you some soup, relieved when he saw that your stomach could handle that. He’d warned you that it might not, after getting so used to going days without food. You’d gotten some worn but warm clothes to wear after the shower and now your body was sinking into an actual mattress. It was more than you’d dreamed of just that morning.

Joel paused in the doorway, his hand tapping against his jeans, a habit you had already picked up on. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands when they weren’t holding a gun.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Your mouth went dry as you tried to keep your tone nonchalant. His expression told you that it wasn't exactly working. “Who said I was leaving?”

“You look like you will.”

Again, a quiet fell over you and you shook your head softly. “What, you were a psychologist before or something?”

He smiled weakly. “Contractor.”

After a short pause, he went on. “I know it's hard to- to trust. When ya first get here. I felt the same.” 

You felt a small breath leave your throat at that. “But it gets better?”

“There's hot water, three meals a day, fair working conditions. I don't think it gets much better out there,” he pointed out softly before giving you a small nod.

“I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Good night.”

27 months later

The almost-empty soap sits on your bathroom shelf, the one that’s screwed to the wall just above the worn-out bathtub. You’ve gotten it refilled every few months, sometimes sooner if you wanted to allow yourself a little treat. It still reminds you of your first day in Jackson, of the safety that you so quickly felt in every room of Joel's house.

You still have some time before you have to head to work and the blue sky promises a cold but clear day so you decided to go and check if you’re in luck with any available refills today. Stock always changes throughout the week and while there’s usually something available, you prefer to get your chosen products if possible.

No such luck.

“Sorry, we’re all out. Think patrols cleared out the store that had these a while ago,” the woman behind the counter says apologetically. “We have some others if you’d like to try a new one, there’s-”

“I’m good,” you quickly insist, giving her a small smile when you notice you may have sounded a little harsh. “I’ll just wait and see if some more comes in.”

In one quick motion, you turn around and head towards the door- only to run face-first into a broad chest draped in a thick, brown coat.

“Whoa.” The deep voice above you immediately sends a gentle warmth through your body and you take a small step back to be able to squint up at the man you bumped into.

“Sorry, Texas, didn't see you there.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Joel mutters weakly, fumbling with the small bag he is carrying before handing it over to the woman behind the counter. She thanks him and quickly begins to sort the items he has brought back from patrol. He’s wearing the thick coat you see on him whenever it drops below freezing, his dark boots leaving small pieces of wet mud on the floor of the small store. He’s been doing the creek trails then, most likely.

You’ve rarely been on patrol yourself, focusing your energy more on tasks inside the community. If it hadn’t been for Joel, you know you probably would have taken off in the first few days, maybe stolen some food and been on your way. But he’d gotten you to stay. With him, for a few days. Then they had found space for you in a small guesthouse close to the mainstreet, to be shared with a young woman not unlike yourself that had offered up her vacant bedroom.

You’d taken an instant liking to Lane. Joel had dropped you off at your new home, with the few things you owned, and you and her had both stood in the small kitchen in awkward silence, racking your brains for a good conversation starter. Of course, you’d come up with the one she probably heard every other day.

“I like your hair.”

It wasn’t a lie. Her hair was cut short but thick, and most importantly, it was blue. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen colored hair. It seemed to fit her though. The roots were brown and the overall color a little less vibrant than you’d seen in magazines of people before the outbreak. If anything, you liked this more.

“Thanks,” she said lamely, twisting her hand around the small cup she was holding. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m the worst at social shit,” she finally blurted out and it looked like she was half glad to admit it and half afraid of your reaction.

“Don’t worry. Me too,” you admitted, a grin spreading over both your faces, the silence seeming a lot more bearable now. She shrugged towards the counter, half a dozen muffins sitting on it. “You like blueberries? A friend let me nick these.”

She paused for a moment, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I mean, technically they’re not real blueberries, the ground here is too dry for those. I think they’re called juneberries, but we never call them that.”

You figured she’d be a solid roommate if she’d just met you and was already sharing her sweets. Half an hour later, when you had vomited the blueberry muffins back up in your shared bathroom, Joel’s warning about solid food still ringing in your ears, when she was standing beside you, holding your hair back and handing you a washcloth when you were finished, you knew she’d be more than a roommate. She’d be your friend.

She had also been the one to get you into teaching. You’d been fascinated when she first told you about her job in town, teaching the children of Jackson practically every subject she could. Neither of you had been in school before the outbreak so it was all the more impressive, the way she managed to control a class without the need to get loud or hand out punishments.

You’d taken a liking to the classrooms of Jackson as well, reminiscing on the last summer before the world had gone to shit and the way you’d looked forward to being in school, learning all the things big girls did. Not getting to sit in a classroom, and you didn’t count those at FEDRA as actual classrooms, had been only one of so many things you felt you had missed out on.

So it felt even more special now when, after you got Maria to assign you as teacher alongside Lane, you spent your days in the colorfully decorated classrooms, teaching a variety of subjects and a variety of ages. It was similar to life in Jackson, not without its fair amount of challenges. But, just as Joel had promised the first night, you learned to trust and the more you did, the easier it was to let yourself be. Above all, to let yourself be happy.

Joel steps outside alongside you, his head jerking back towards the small supply store. “Did ya get everything?”

His voice is soft, and you like to imagine that he sounds a little more gentle when speaking to you compared to the others. Not that you see him talking to a lot of people either way. You're pretty sure it's why he prefers the patrols, less people to bother him and less voices to listen to. Even though you had a feeling, about a year after you arrived in Jackson, that he also preferred being paired up with Esther, a pretty woman who took care of the horses and frequented the patrols. Especially those with Joel.

You had almost hoped for them to end up together, to drive the images of Joel alone at his too large dining table out of your head. But they didn't and the images stayed. You had him over for dinner, every other month. It started as a thank-you for helping you through your first days and quickly developed into a rare but regular thing. Ellie or Lane joined you occasionally, happy to get a nice home-cooked dinner and some of the wine Joel usually brought along.

You didn't see too much of him outside of your little gatherings, only the normal occasions that presented themself around town. But it was nice to know that he was there, that he would bring his wine and compliment your cooking and make small-talk and listen to the new developments of your life.

“It makes sense for you to be a teacher,” he’d agreed after you’d updated him on your new position, causing you to raise a brow. 

“What is that supposed to mean? Think I can’t handle myself out on the group patrols?”

His face slowly changed at that, Joel urgently shaking his head, “I didn't mean-”

You cut him off with a small laugh, no longer able to stay serious at how panicked he looked. “I’m messing with you, old man. I know what you meant. I think it makes sense too. I like it.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, grumbling a little under his breath.

It's Joel's voice that brings you back to the present. “I asked if you got everything?”

You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts, then it turns to shaking your head no. “They’re out of conditioner. But it’s fine, I can stretch mine a bit longer and maybe they’ll get some next week.”

“Ya still using the same one?” Joel asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and you nod. It's sweet that he remembers. It's been over two years, after all.

“Yeah. Liked it, never saw a reason to switch,” you explain lamely. He only gives a short nod, motioning for you to follow as he starts walking. 

You do, though perplexed. “School’s in the other direction.” “Thought your class didn’t start until ten today,” he points out. It never appears to you to ask how or why he knows this. When your steps slow down and your thoughts speed up simultaneously, he nudges you along.

“You want your soap or not?” he grumbles and your face lights up a little at that. 

“You got some?” 

Joel gives another quick nod. “Brought them back a few weeks ago. I would’ve given them to you if I knew ya still used them.”

You trot beside him like a puppy, making your way down Rancher Street and up the flight of stairs that leads to the small house clad in white. The noise of the wind chimes tied to a beam above his front porch drifts over to you, the gentle breeze creating a slow melody.

You haven’t been in his upstairs bathroom for years. It’s odd and it feels too intimate, seeing the place where he brushes his teeth in the morning, where he washes himself after a long day. You don't belong in a space this personal. You don't belong to him.

It felt different when you were curled up on the same white tiles, letting him check your bruised and battered body for signs of Infection. For a split moment, it did feel like you belonged, in a way.

Joel's hand brushes over yours as he hands you the soap, the one smelling of jasmine and cotton and safety. 

The rest of the day is a blur of lessons and grading, but the smell of the soap seems to linger, the comforting feeling in your stomach getting you through the work day. It doesn’t end until seven with you staying behind to tutor some kids for an upcoming exam and then to finish preparing said exam. The smell of food fills the air as you open your front door and you smile as you poke your head into the kitchen, “Smells good.”

Lane is seated at the table, a few papers in front of her. Likely an exam of her own, you think to yourself. Even after the world has ended, finals season still exists.

“My mum made that pasta you like so much today. Figured I'd save you some,” she says, nodding towards the tupperware sitting on the counter.

“You're an angel.” You whistle as you head deeper into the house, putting away your jacket and bag, fishing the soap out of the latter and placing it on the bathroom shelf. It makes you pause for a moment. You give a nod to yourself at the sight of the refilled container and make a silent vow to treat yourself to a nice bath today.

An hour later, your stomach is filled with warm pasta, the bathroom damp with steam and your hair soft, smelling just the way you like it. The clock in the small hallway reminds you that it's already past twelve and the knowledge that tomorrow is another day filled with teaching makes you want to crawl into bed fairly quickly. But you're thirsty.

Lane is still in the kitchen, her blue hair a little messy and crowned with a pair of headphones. The music spills out a bit, enough for you to be able to hear the low, steady humming of a song that seems mildly familiar.

You do remember a few songs from before the Outbreak- mainly the ones they played on the radio. But you know that Lane doesn’t, being a few years younger than you, meaning that she barely has any memories of the before.

You're already in your pajamas, shuffling to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Somehow it always tastes better at night. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks on you.

“Hey, you remember Joel is coming over for dinner on Sunday, right?” you ask with your back to your friend. When no response comes, you gulp down the last bit of water and turn around, giving a small wave in the air between you. 

Lane sits up a little more, pushing one side of her headphones back just enough to free her ear. “Hm?”

“Dinner with Joel, Sunday,” you repeat, a yawn escaping you. 

After a moment, she nods. “Right, I remember. We’re out of blueberries again, by the way.”

“I’ll make sure to restock this weekend then,” you agree, already halfway across the room. You give another small wave and finally head to bed. It looks exactly the same way you left it this morning, the blanket tucked into one side, the pillows arranged against the headboard.

“It's so good to be home,” you mutter to yourself as you crawl under the covers, stretching your body a little. Your left hand reaches for your nightstand and finds the book you've been reading, hoping to get just a tiny bit further tonight. With all the work and the winter festival coming up, you’ve barely made progress, the wooden bookmark still sitting near the front. You put it aside, glancing down at the finely carved piece of woodwork for a moment. Joel gave it to you for your first birthday in Jackson. Then you open the book properly, the worn-out spine cracking slightly. Just a couple of minutes.

But your eyes start to droop after just a few pages. After half a chapter, you're in a deep slumber, the book slipping out of your hands and onto the wooden floor below just as the front door slips shut.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting <3

[forgetminot]

hi hi! I really loved your other fic, it made me all giddy <3

may i request reader who suddenly starts to distance themselves away from/avoiding (wandering off, offering to split up, less talkative - which is unlike them) Leon because of their growing feelings and they hope it fades away soon since they're on a mission. And then they get chained together like that one scene and Leon confronts reader about it since they can't escape him and reader plays dumb at first but Leon pulls them in (like he did Luis) and made them talk

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THISS DHRDSER THIS HAS JUST BEEN ON MY MIND RECENTLY

Have a nice day!

Talk To Me

~ Leon Kennedy x gn reader ~

[ Warnings ; Guns, knives, blood, death (of an infected villager) violence, profanities, angst, angst and more angst, lil bit of fluff at the end. ]

A/N ; Thank you for the kind message! And to everyone else for the support on my first fic it actually made me sooo happy!! I hope you enjoy this request sorry if the violence is a bit too much i just wanted to add more to the story. ♡♡

----

Lil' overview: You have been trying your best to avoid Leon; Ignoring his questions and running off into danger. What happens when he confronts you about it and you have nowhere to go?

----

Gif belongs to @eurodynamic

You were acting differently; giving short blunt answers to all of Leon's questions, walking away as soon as he turned his back for a split second and putting yourself in unnecessary danger. Leon knew something was wrong, he just wasn't quite sure what yet. "Y/n" You ignore Leon, continuing to make your way to the small house in front of you that looked like it would collapse the second you turned the door handle. You hear Leon sigh deeply from behind you "Y/n" he repeats, this time you turn and just as you open your mouth about to reply with some short, smartass answer you hear a thud.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, your hand reaching for your gun holster. Leon nods doing the same. Thud. He steps in front of you opening the door slowly, aiming his gun forwards.

"Stay behind me." You enter the house behind Leon closing the door quietly, listening for the same sound again. Thud . Making your way through the house you follow the sound as you go, picking up any supplies that look like they could be useful. "Shh!" Leon points to the man hammering the ground in front of you and he approaches carefully, his knife tightly gripped in his hand as he sinks it into the man's neck and he falls to the ground suddenly - blood from the stab wound oozing onto the floor planks . Leon loots the dead man's corpse, taking the pesetas from the man's pockets, before removing the planks from the trap door that's in the floor to the left. "C'mon". He makes his way down the ladder, you following closely behind. Flicking on your flashlight you shine it around the dark and misty tunnel, there's nothing special down there apart from a few crates and barrels and a small green herb hidden behind a dusty old sheet, but as you move your flashlight to the end of the tunnel you see a bag, In the shape of a body and... its moving.

"You're not going to open that are you?" You whisper. Leon doesn't answer you, instead he takes his knife cutting the bag open; there's a man inside tied up with his mouth taped closed. Leon leans closer to the man and removes the tape from his mouth, quite harshly.

"That hurts you know" The stranger says, he sounds pretty relaxed, considering that he's tied up in a body bag at the end of a random basement tunnel.

"Seemed like you really wanted to talk" Leon replies bluntly.

"How observant, señor. Now. Say- you got a smoke?" You can't help but crack a small smile at the man.

"You know, those things can kill." You pipe up.

"Oh, well, maybe just untie me then." The stranger rolls forward, giving Leon room to release him. You watch carefully seeing the man's eyes widen and his face drop. "¡Joder! Not this guy." You and Leon both turn around swiftly, drawing your guns and pointing them at the huge individual that stands in front of you; it walks towards you, slapping your gun from your hand and throwing you across the room with force.

Darkness.

You wake to the rattling and clashing of chains above you, opening your eyes and squinting from the change of light. You pull down on the chains, hoping to loosen your restrained hands - You feel someone behind you and turn your head. "Leon?" You pull on the chains again. "Leon is that you?"

"Yes. It's me - Fuck, stop yanking on the chains." He groans. You both step back and turn around to face each other. Great, this is exactly what you wanted right now; to be chained to the one person you were trying to avoid. His eyes are scanning the room, looking for some way to break out of whatever contraption you were in.

"What happened to the other guy?" You look around the room and well, he's nowhere to be seen.

"No idea." Leon responds, glancing up at where the chain is connected to the roof.

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know Y/n. Right now I'm more worried about getting us out of here." You roll your eyes, pulling your hands down causing Leon to trip forward; you bite back a laugh smiling at Leon.

"Every time I move, you move?" You ask. Leon raises his eyebrow and yanks hard on the chain forcing you to stumble towards him.

"What the fuck?" You glare up at him, holding your hands against his chest to steady yourself.

"Talk to me."

"What? About what?" You're trying to act oblivious and Leon knows it, he's not dumb.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You try to step back, away from Leon but he's holding you in place. "Talk." He repeats.

"This really isn't the time to be having a one to one Leon!" He stays quiet, looking down at you, waiting for a response.

"I can't." You respond softly. Leon loosens the chain, letting you step back and you do. "I- I thought maybe if i tried to ignore it, it would go away."

"Ignore what?"

You laugh gently, refusing to make eye contact with the man ahead of you. "That I like you - as more than friends, more than co-workers."

"You thought ignoring me and putting yourself in danger would - what, be a distraction? " You tilt your head up to look at Leon nodding softly. "You're such an idiot." He mumbles.

"Wow, thanks!" You retort. "What a great way to respond to my confession." Leon grins, yanking hard on the chain again but this time he steadies you. "What are you doing?" You question shyly. He stares at you, his eyes looking at every small, minor detail on your face.

"Just go with it." He whispers, placing his lips softly against yours. "Such an idiot." He repeats smiling into the kiss.

----

[tnt-kokoo]

Savior

Arthur Morgan × fem!reader

summary: You're a biologist explorering the nature. But sadly the nature was mean and had you in an wolf's attack involved. Luckily your savior Arthur Morgan was there to help.

warnings: wolf attack, guns mentioned, knife mentioned, I can't write accents, dead aninal mentioned; English isn't my first language; rushed kinda

Crouching down, you cut a piece of the plants growing on the ground. After so much time spend on your discoveries, you were sure you were able to go back home soon. Sure, you were happy to live your dream but this area sure was dangerous.

____________________________________________

Walking back to your makeshift camp, you were ready to to write your report of the day. But the second you stepped close to your camp, you noticed it was ruined.

Tend ripped apart, conserves broken, your journal... gone??

Confusion turned into worry and that worry turned into fear when the hungry growling of a group of wolf's was heard behind you.

'Oh no..'

You quickly grabbed the revolver stuffed into your holster. You didn't have to think twice to shoot and scare two wolf's slightly to make them step back. Suddenly though, another wolf came from your ride side and jumped on you. Your revolver slid away from you and your only hope was your strength pushing the hungry wolf away.

Looking around, you searched for a weapon and there it was. A knife.

But if you were to remove your arm of the wolf above you, you were to lose this fight. And that's what the other two wolf's realized as well because the second you saw the knife, another wolf was about to jump on you as well. Lucky for you, it dropped dead on the ground right next to you with a single shot echoing in the forest.

That sound made the animal above you confused and that's when you made the decision to grab the knife and hit the wild beast over your body. With a whine it ran away and you were now breathing out your anxiety.

Silently thanking your savior.

"..You alright, miss?" A gruffy voice asked.

Looking up, you saw a hand teaching down to help you up and you took that hand.

"Yea, I was just not expecting that attack I guess." You smiled thankful, that this wasn't your last day.

"Well your camp looks ravished, you need help, miss....?"

"Y/n L/n, biologist. And you are?" You questioned teasingly despite your situation.

"Arthur Morgan, a normal guy."

____________________________________________

After Arthur helped you look for still intact things in your camp, you slowly lost hope for your journal to be still in one piece.

The man noticed your melancholic thought and wondered out loud, "What's making you so sad, Miss L/n?"

"You can call me Y/n and I think the wolf's have my journal, that I've worked on for forever." Frustrated with the situation you didn't even care that much about your tent having holes or your food being gone.

"What if we go search for it, Y/n?" He asked and you nodded thankfully. With whatever left of hope, you agreed to go with Arthur.

He held out his hand from above you in the saddle, as you took his hand, it felt like before when he pulled you if the ground.

"So? How do your journal look like?"

"Its a brown-reddish book with a small deer on the front cover and a charm hanging down on a cord as a bookmark."

____________________________________________

Time passed and the sun began to set. Your hope now completely gone as you now only wished to rest.

"I think we should stop searching. We ain't gonna find the journal in the dark."

You agreed and searched for a good place to set up Arthurs tent. Unsure if you were welcomed to sleep in the temporary camp, you awkwardly stood by the side.

"You gonna get in the tent or do you wanna sleep outside, Missy?"

"Uhm.. sleep outside?"

"Well too bad you don't have a choice. Go sleep in my tent." He joked. As serious as Arthur looked like, he sure knew how to be sarcastic.

"Well damn, why you gotta be so nice to me? You don't know me?"

"I know enough to know that your own tent is gone!" He argued. Still managing to sound sarcastic though.

"Why don't you just lay with me in the tent? I'd feel bad if you weren't." "...Fine" Arthur looked down and sighs but nonetheless agrees.

____________________________________________

As you both lie down inside the tent the awkward phase began to hit. You turned around not wanting to deal with that.

As you closed your eyes, you heared a husky voice quietly ask you, "What is this journal to you?"

The question wandered around in your brain before you gave your answer, "In that journal I've written down everything I've discovered. I've worked so hard to prove to those privileged men that I can be a biologist as well. But now, I bet these damn men will laugh when I come back home empty handed..." Your frustration was visible in your voice. You didn't needed to look at Arthur, for him to realize that you really needed your book back.

Arthur didn't say anything anymore and took a look at you. Slowly letting sleep consume you.

____________________________________________

Waking up with much more place to move around, you already knew that your temporar companion was not inside the tent anymore.

Once you made your way out of the tent, you saw the man sitting infront of the fire, cooking some meat that you guessed belonged to the cut-up animal next to him. He most likely went out early to hunt.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night, Arthur."

Your voice made Arthur aware that you woke up and offered you the meat that is already done cooked. "Have some,"

You took it and and started eating away as the man continued, "I've found your journal I think."

He then pulls out the book you've worked on for the past months and you gasp in surprise.

"These beasts were not willing to let go of it" He then jokes, showing a few cuts and bites on his arms.

Instead of taking the journal out of his hands, you search for some alcohol.

"I knew you'd be happy but 'ya already going to celebrate with alcohol?" He teased.

"Yes- wait what no??" You sit down next to him, "I want to clean your wounds but you don't seem to have any bandages or so around here" worry audible in your voice.

"It's gonna sting a bit."

____________________________________________

"Stay safe now, miss L/n" Artbur said as the train behind you was waiting for you.

Now that you had your journal back, you finally could go back home. Just sadly, it so meant to say goodbye.

Without thinking, you suddenly ran down the stairs of the train to Arthur and reached up to give him a small kiss on his cheek. A surprised look on his face as you could only ran back to the train to catch it in time.

"Goodbye Arthur, I hope we will see eachother again soon!"

____________________________________________

'I met somebody. An interesting girl, might I add.

She was a biologist working to show men how smart she is. Now she's gone to prove them she can do as good as them- or even better.

I've read through her notes and was impressed at how good and precise they were, some things even surprised me!

I can't lie, she was a beautiful women that I hope to see again. I mean, I do have to repay her with that sneaky kiss she gave me right before departing.'

Arthur wrote down on a page in his own journal, next to a whole page of a portrait of you smiling. He liked looking at it, it made him smile as well.

[h0rnyauth0r]

on a mission with 141, you and ghost are forced to act as a fake couple to gather intel on an important political figure. when he comes out without his mask on and ends up kissing you, there comes a point where neither of you can handle holding back anymore

i'm back from my break for now :) i'm sorry if this isn't that great but i tried so that's all that matters

word count: 2.8k

warnings: semi-public sex, cumming inside, unprotected sex, reader w/ vagina (who uses she/her pronouns to be safe), pussy eating

the whole group has convened inside of a hotel room across from where this big scandal will be occurring. there’s a politician who has made plots with a terrorist group and you’ve been ordered to partner up with one of the many men of 141 to act as a couple to gain entry and find your way inside to get evidence.

soap was the initial choice, but he is well-known within the ranks of this terrorist group as he’s been apart of raids involving them before. actually, all of 141 has. however, a conclusion came about when price suggested that ghost join and participate.

and here you are now, putting on a dress all too formal for you, with a dramatic face of makeup and hair curled loosely. you’re nervous to fuck this mission up as you tuck a gun into the holster you have around your thigh, knife placed safely in the smaller addition.

you’ve done infiltrating before, but this is on a whole other level. your body is tense as you finally make your way back into the room with the rest of 141. “okay, i think i’m ready. how are we gonna do this?” your voice is shaky with nerves, but gaz places his hand on you and gives you a warm smile.

“we’re going to be right with you. just say the code word and we’ll be there.”

“yeah, and ghost is with you too. he’ll take great care of you.”

you nod at the men in the room, inhaling deeply and eventually making your way across the roads and to the grand building. it’s a museum that has a ballroom on the lower floor, used for special occasions such as this one.

you have no idea where ghost is and it’s making you worried sick, standing in this line with one of your fake tickets for entry. you find yourself tapping your foot to the ground repeatedly, an action that has a couple in front of you glaring and scoffing at the noise.

you stop, feeling embarrassed that you’re drawing attention to yourself. “nervous?” you hear a voice behind you, recognizing it as ghost’s. when you turn around, your mouth goes agape and you freeze up at the sight of this foreign man.

a suit that matches in color to yours, gelled hair, and such a handsome face. you’re in awe of the fact that ghost even had a face behind the mask, especially one so handsome.

“simon.” you say softly, holding out your arm for him to grasp onto.

he does, strong arm gripping yours tightly as he pulls your body close to his own. “remember, love, we need to look official. we’re married tonight.” his lips, oh his lips, are right next to your ear as he whispers to you.

your face feels as though flames may burst over your skin as you breathe deeply, nodding at him and facing towards the entrance again. the line’s moved forward a bit, so you opt to continue following until you’re nearing the security guards.

not much time passes before you’re handing your invitation cards over, and your eyes quickly pass over a tattoo on one of the guards’ forearm. the guards are apart of the terror group, you realize from the familiar symbol pressed in red ink.

when you notice that the guard’s noticed you look, you opt to pass off your staring by leaning into ghost’s arm with a giggle. “‘m so excited to be here tonight.” you fake a little slur, noticing the guard’s stiff demeanor go lax as he motions to two of you through.

you even opt to trip a little over your heels to ensure that he thinks you’re already tipsy, which seems to work as the two of you finally walk through the entrance.

“you saw that too, right?” you ask him quietly, pulling him into a hall.

simon nods, “we have to let them know that the security is involved like we thought.”

he presses down on the small button on his suit, speaking lowly into it. “the security is also apart of the terror group. tread carefully once backup is needed.”

you hear footsteps approach and push into his body a little, nerves bubbling up. when a random staff member comes in, he wraps his arm around you and smiles at the worker. “i’m afraid my wife and i are a little confused, we’re trying to join the party.” he says.

the staff person leads the two of you out to the main ballroom, adorned with seating and what looks to be a dancefloor. you aren’t shocked by the classical music playing rather loudly, announcing your fake names with simon for the person to help find your seating arrangements.

once you’re seated, the most boring part begins. more people show up, and then the man you’re investigating does an announcement. it happens to be some bullshit about how he wants nothing more than to help the community. after this, it’s time to finally do some snooping around.

“we should stay together.” simon says, and you nod at him.

as you begin walking around the space of the building, you opt to have some conversation. “what’s this guy up to exactly?” you ask your superior.

“trafficking.”

“oh, guns? drugs?”

“neither, actually. children.”

you decide that asking anymore questions may be pointless as you find a room that has several others inside admiring artworks. “should we look here?” you ask, looking up at him.

he glances down at you with a nod. “could be something useful.”

unfortunately, there’s no evidence of anything suspicious inside of that room. you keep looking around together in different rooms for anything that’s suspicious: a lot of the terrorist members, large groups of people acting shady, anything. but there’s no luck yet.

you start feeling off though, like someone may be following you. you think simon can feel it too with the way his walking becomes more rushed and careful.

“follow my lead. please understand that what i’m going to do is for the sake of the mission.” his voice is soft as he mumbles, leading you into a distant bathroom and shutting the door without locking it.

you look up at him curiously, head tilting the slightest. “what are we doing?” you ask, eyes anxiously looking into his.

he pushes you against a wall, lips immediately crashing into yours in a deep kiss with his hands pulling yours to hook around his neck. you freeze for a moment before reciprocating his touch, leaning into it and even letting out a small moan at the feeling.

his body is pressed into yours, teeth knocking against yours for a moment before moving more comfortably. you can’t tell if this is even for the mission anymore with the way his tongue is invading your mouth and just how hard you can feel him getting in his pants.

however enjoyable this may be for the both of you, it’s cut short.

the door bursts open and you both pull away rather hesitantly, seeing two of the security from earlier backing away from the doorway. “i’m sorry, do you mind? we’re busy in here.” simon says in an annoyed tone, watching the two men sheepishly walk away and close the door.

your breathing is heavy and you feel dizzy as you look at him, seeing an emotion in his eyes that can only be lust. you gulp and try to do anything to look away from him and focus on the mission at hand, but when his hand pulls your chin up to keep your eyes on him you couldn’t give less of a fuck about anything else.

“we need to-”

“no. just shut up.” he says before leaning down and kissing you once more. his movements become more feverish as his hands run down your body, caressing your waist and squeezing at your hips.

his lips are downright addictive, leaving a yearning inside of you that you’re certain can never be satiated. one of his hands reaches to the side and you hear the lock on the door click before it’s wrapping around your throat.

you sigh against his lips and finally give into it all, a certain thrill rising up and making you even more desperate as you whine against his lips. his thigh presses in between your thighs and it makes you gasp, which is when he takes the chance to let his tongue enter your mouth.

his lips begin moving down your jaw to your neck and he bites at your throat before he’s playing with the bottom of your dress and pulling the fabric up and showing off your cute little panties.

“you can be quiet, yeah?” he asks, and you bite your lip and nod.

he props you up onto the counter, dress lifted, before getting down onto his knees and letting his fingers brush against your panties. the small amount of stimulation has you closing your eyes tightly, sucking in a deep breath.

his thumb brushes against your clit through your panties before firmly caressing the area. you throw your head back, whispering out the word ‘please’ to him.

he reaches towards the top of your panties and pulls them down, also opting to remove the holster that holds your gun and knife. when your panties are fully removed, he stares at your glistening pussy like it’s a meal ready for him to eat.

“beautiful.” he mutters, face leaning down closer. when he presses a kiss against your clit you mewl out, clasping a hand over your mouth and clenching your eyes shut tightly.

his hands reach down and pull your lower lips open, tongue reaching out and circling against your clit in repeated motions. your head is spinning, body beginning to grow sweatier and pleasure rising through your lower half.

his lips eventually suckle around your clit and you find yourself gasping out, free hand reaching and pulling at his soft hair. you know you’re probably fucking up the style he did, but don’t care with the way he plays with your pussy.

as his movements continue, never faltering, you can feel your orgasm grow quickly. the music plays distantly behind the door but you can barely hear it over the wet noises his mouth makes against your pussy and your own quiet moans.

his assault feels never ending, sparks igniting up your spine and sending goosebumps across your body as you reach your high. you try hard not to cry out, biting down on your lower lip so hard that blood is drawn and your eyes are rolling back from both the pleasure and the pain.

“there ya go. good girl.” he says lowly, lightly rubbing on your clit with his thumb until your hips are twitching and trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation.

he finally lifts himself up and leans towards you, capturing your lips with his own once more intensely. you moan against his lips when his hips grind into your bare thighs, opening your knees to invite him in for more.

he’s quick to undo the belt on his trousers, quickly tossing it aside and then finally releasing his cock from his pants. you find yourself looking down at it and biting your bottom lip.

you should be working right now, but instead you’re about to do something that could get the both of you into so much trouble. any logic or reason is thrown out of the window when the tip of his dick rubs against you, slick sounds filling your ears as you look at him with the utmost want in your eyes.

“you ready?”

“please.”

his lidded eyes gaze at you lazily as he pushes just the tip in, searching your face for any discomfort or pain. your mouth falls open loosely as you sigh at the feeling of how big he is.

as he pushes inside of you, he lets out a soft moan, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you just know that his moaning will now be one of your most favorite sounds. he keeps pushing in, and eventually, bottoms out with his pelvis brushing against you.

you feel so full and already exhausted, but there’s a buzz that’s bubbling up within you that has you so ready for more. his breathing is so heavy in your ear as he leans into you, lips pressing against your own gently.

gentle for just a moment, before it becomes more needy and forced. that’s when his hips pick up movement, and you’re reeling away from his lips and pressing against him at the heaviness of his movements inside of you.

“oh my fuck.” you whimper out in a high-pitched tone, teeth gnawing down on your bottom lip once more as your pussy throbs against him.

his thrusts start going harder and more urgently in a manner that has clapping echo against the walls of the bathroom. you can tell he wants to finish this fast, to get back to what you’re both supposed to be doing.

“gonna make this quick. i can take my time with you another day.” he says in a rushed tone, voice cracking a little as he picks up his pace even more.

one of his hands reaches out and grasps at your throat, squeezing just enough to have you wheeze out a moan. you find yourself lightheaded and in a dizzy haze that makes his cock feel even better than before.

your hands grip onto the arm latched out in front of you, eyes shutting and biting down on your bottom lip through struggled breaths as he continues his assault on your pussy.

you can already feel an orgasm brushing up on you from the friction against your clit, which only worsens as he leans closer to thrust at a different angle. 

“y’doing so good, yeah?” he says in a gruff tone, going faster and faster.

you feel like you’re going to cum in any moment with the way his thrusts angle so he’s rubbing on your clit, and your toes curl once it hits you for the second time of the night.

you cry out, wheezing when his hand tightens its grip on your throat. you feel like you might pass out as it hits hard, simon’s thrusts becoming somehow inhuman as he moans out quietly.

eventually his hips stutter and he’s cumming inside of you head leaning down and resting on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting with small grunts and groans escaping his mouth. 

both of you are breathing heavily as you sit there for a moment, him pulling out and quickly fixing himself. he helps you regain some composure silently, eyes continuously finding your own with a certain glint to them.

“we shouldn’t have done this.” you whisper to him.

“but we did. let’s get this over with. quickly.”

you follow him out of the room after you both fix up your hair and clothing to look the same as before. you don’t know it but your makeup is smudged in a way that makes it obvious to those around you that you were up to something in that bathroom.

it doesn’t take long before you find yourself in a room with two guards knocked out cold, and you’re helping ghost with looking through some important documents that show what the politician has really been up to behind the scenes.

after just a few minutes, you and ghost have to call for the rest of 141 to come inside for backup. it’s hard to not make all of the citizens panic when gunshots end up fired, but eventually you’re all packed into a room and finding out that this location is holding a group of individuals who would be traded for money for this politician.

it’s a long and tiring mission with a hopeful conclusion. the politician ends up arrested and you help the local police with rescuing and assisting many of these children with getting to a local area where they will be reunited with their families.

you feel like you will die of embarrassment when soap drops the news of ghost accidentally turning his mic to communicate with the team on during your lovely adventure, and specifically while he was fucking you in the bathroom.

neither of you get into trouble due to the success of the mission, but price sternly warns the both of you (mostly ghost) that if this ever happens again you will both be forced to clean every surface of the base using only a toothbrush for each of you.

despite everything, you and ghost reach a different level of intimacy on a free night. and you make sure it’s not in a bathroom surrounded by people who might kill you if they know what you’re up to.

-

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[leonw4nter]

could you do a fic for re4 leon where he and fem!reader are in a relationship (secret bc they can’t let the agency find out) they are on the spain mission together and luis starts flirting with her and its taking everything in leon for for him to not say “thats my girlfriend” or something like that?

sorry if this is specific i just thought of it in the middle of class

Music For Two People in A Secret Relationship

RE4R!Leon x F!Agent!Reader

Leon is a stickler for the rules. Well, he was– he made sure that he followed the rules he was made to obey, even when he didn’t exactly agree with them. One fine training day, you lunged at him with a combat knife, a deadly fire in your eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. He had to move and dodge away from the next offense, even if he wanted to give himself time to admire you. You moved like a panther, your gaze much more penetrating than the blade you held in a reverse saber grip; you embodied one too, light footfalls as you circled him before pouncing with your claws out towards the man in front of you. If giving in to the calling of his heart is a crime then he’d gladly be an outlaw.

Here he is now, dancing around the rules in order to be your boyfriend; twisting, bending, and extending his will to resist the temptation to hold your hand in the walls of the USSTRATCOM headquarters, proudly referring to you as “his” and for him to hear you call him “yours” towards colleagues and higher-ups. He had to settle for the tension-filled stares across the briefing room, the kinds of looks that set off sparks in his chest, and the electric accidental brushes of his finger against yours as he reaches for something.

Although Valdelobos is everything but idyllic, he’s thankful for the opportunity to be with you despite this decrepit village being another reminder of Raccoon City; he wouldn’t want to relive Raccoon City again but it’s less triggering for him because he’s with you … and a certain Spanish gentleman with a penchant of flirting with his girlfriend; he didn’t trust the man one bit but what choice did he have? The man held vital information regarding the villagers and Umbrella; a former scientist, Luis claimed. Despite him being a little different from the usual scientists behind BOWs, he seemed to know a lot regarding the cult and the parasite– Las Plagas. Charming and charismatic too, the perfect man all in all. He also served as the brains behind the group, oddly familiar with the puzzle mechanisms that the Los Illuminados employed.

Now, all of you were stuck in this misty baroque ballroom somewhere in Salazar’s palace. As soon as everyone was inside the room, the big wooden doors closed and several locks were heard clicking in place. Silence followed, Ashley huddled in the middle by you, Leon, and Luis’ bodies as you formed a protective circle. The fact that silence followed and not the groans and cultic chanting unsettled everyone, unused to this odd peace. After a few moments of guns being out, Luis’ Red 9 is holstered back into its brown leather confines.

“Do you smell that,” he softly whispers. “The rusty air. This ballroom was an old bastion for the Los Illuminados, held their sacrifices here but albeit more… morbid. Sacrifices were released like bulls in a bullpen, they all tried to escape while trying not to die on the way– had to escape booby traps and avoid stepping on the wrong tiles. There’s a lot more with the trap system they set up and they’re all elaborate.”

The atmosphere that hung over everyone was heavy and miserable now that Luis had to point out the history behind the room. No one stepped foot away from where they were standing, afraid to trigger something to fly out and impale someone.

“What ballroom is this,” Ashley asks.

“The Birdcage,” Luis responds. “La Jaula de Pájaros.”

“I’ve read somewhere about certain macabre ballrooms being connected to cult hide-outs and traps and usually, the ways to beat those traps is somehow connected to culture like dances and poems,” she begins to explain. “Basically, we might need to dance or make music to make it out alive for this one. Just like… just like a bird. Wait– this place’s name is ‘birdcage’ so we have to escape like birds by means of making music and moving around like how birds chirp and fly!”

“Make music? How exactly,” you ask.

“Rhythmic tapping might be one of them,” Luis suggests.

You look at the people around you, eyebrows meeting in the middle as their foreheads crease in focus and worry. Leon bent down and observed the ground, calloused fingers grazing over the cracked tiles. With each lengthy swipe of his finger, he noticed that the imprints on the ground had a pattern. He leaned closer to the ground and observed what looked like musical notes; he turned to the ground Ashley stood on and noted the same patterns of notes and symbols used.

“There’s musical notations on the ground, maybe we can use that for the rhythm of our tapping,” Leon informs the group. “Who here can read music–”

“I can,” you interrupt. You bend down, fingers skimming over the etching. After a few seconds of remembering which notes sounded a certain way, you get back up and relay the information you just got. You get everyone’s attention and start humming the tune before softly stomping your boots on the ground, asking everyone else to follow along to make sure that they remember the beat.

“Uh guys,” Ashley speaks up. “We have to start soon.”

She points to the ceiling, several ganados kept in cages dangling overhead. The ceilings may be high from where you all stood, but there was nothing separating your group and them. With a determined yet wary nod, you nod to Luis. He approaches you and bows, to which you respond with. He slowly places his hand on your waist, the other gently holding your gloved hand. You glance at Leon, seeing him do the same with Ashley with the placements of his hand in areas that don't make Ashley feel uncomfortable. You give Leon another nod, signifying the start of the dance. Your pair and Leon’s slowly drift to opposite parts of the room, dancing a fierce tango with rhythmic footfalls. You could dance but not in this way and you were lucky that Luis was there to guide you. In the drop of the beat, he spun you and for a quick moment you saw Leon glance at your direction before turning his gaze back to Ashley and making sure he doesn’t mess up his part and involve Ashley in whatever fuck-up he might make. You wouldn’t admit this to Luis but you wished that it was Leon who was spinning and dipping you, that it was the large hand of Leon’s that was perched on your waist. Maybe you’d like to go dancing with Leon once this shit is all over, maybe invite Luis too but you’ll spend most of the evening slow dancing with Leon when you’ve both had one too many drinks. You knew that Leon felt the same based on the gawking Leon unintentionally does, those types of gawks that once you blink, you’d miss and assume that you were just seeing things differently. As much as Leon admitted that Luis was a gifted dancer to his standards, he wished that he could just swoop in and swing you around, to feel your hand around his neck and for you to gaze up dreamily at you when he dips your body. It doesn’t take long for you to get into the dance, the twirls and spins along with the echo of the taps of shoes helping you get into the feel of dancing even though this dance could very much determine whether or not everyone will make it out of this ballroom.

After a few minutes of dancing, all of you finish the beat and you hear a faint click. The eyes and mouth of a tarnished Tarasca statue moves, its neck opening to reveal an ornate conical capsule. Hastily, you run to the statue and take the capsule and twist it open. An intricate copper key falls out.

“We might be able to get out of this,” Leon points out. Hurriedly, he runs to the doors and inserts the piece of metal to the keyhole.

“Careful, Sancho. This thing is brittle,” Luis reminds him. “All that dancing will be for nothing if the key snaps while it’s inside!”

“I know what I’m doing,” your partner seethes.

The faint sound of the door lock’s mechanisms clicking to unlock causes everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, Leon pushing the doors open to let everyone out before himself. You mouth a small thank you to him, to which he responds with a small smile. He finally gets out and urges everyone to run, since the cages holding the ganados were being lowered. After a few minutes, everyone is now out of the palace. All of you stop by the ruins of an old stone house, sinking to the ground to catch your breath.

“Hah… D-didn’t know… hah… you looked lovely in pink,” Luis points out with a tired yet smug smirk bringing a finger up to motion to the flush in your cheeks. “Etérea.”

The Spaniard doesn’t miss the way the blond’s gaze slightly darkens, moving to you as he places a hand on your back as you still catch your breath. You look at Leon as he asks if you’re okay, to which you give him a small smile and a thumbs-up. Leon withdraws his hand from your back to radio back to Hunnigan, giving her information on where you just came from and how everyone’s doing. Since you managed to catch your breath, you check on Ashley who’s doing a lot better now. You offer her the remaining water in your flask, to which she gulped down audibly.

“Water never tasted so divine, holy crap,” she exclaimed as she handed you your flask back.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Since you and Leon were unsure of the safety of the area, you decided that it would be best for you to start moving somewhere less dangerous. Ashley was growing tired, grumbling about her feet hurting but she was still soldering on, walking without breaks. Luis’ chatter made the trip less boring, occasionally talking to Ashley and then flirting with you. After seeing Leon’s subtle reaction to him complimenting your flushed cheeks after running, the cheeky side of Luis decided to flirt with you some more to see how far he can push the reserved and stoic man.

“Hey,” Luis begins. “After all this, what do you say to a little Spanish countryside getaway? You and me.”

“Sounds nice,” you say. “But I’ve got a little night out scheduled with someone when I get back.”

“You aren’t exactly saying ‘no’.”

“I’m going to have to confirm this with my boyfriend. You’re a chill man but I still have to let my man know.”

Luis simply chuckles, his steps slowing down so he’ll fall in step with Leon who is busy craning his head here and there, trying to spot any threat before a possible threat spots you. Well, this is only half true. As soon as he heard Luis proposing the future prospect of him showing off the Spanish countryside to you, he forced himself to pay attention to something else other than the fact that you’re smiling and laughing softly at the Spaniard. The agent brushes whatever he heard off, knowing that his girlfriend loves him and only him but the fact that he can’t do much, especially that their relationship isn’t exactly encouraged at their agency and the fact that they’re both at work; he’s relieved that you aren’t returning his flirting. All he can afford to do is to ask if you’re fine by masking it behind the simple concern for a coworker and nothing more. 

“How’re you holding up, Sancho Panza,” Luis whispers to which Leon responds with silence.

“Ah, I think I know why you’re silent,” the chatty man beside him observes. “It’s because… you like her!”

Leon stops in his tracks and looks at Luis with a slightly baffled expression, head tilted with his eyes slightly squinted before proceeding to walk again, the squelch of his boots against mud resuming again.

“I know just the remedy to this, Leon,” Luis excitedly begins, lowering his voice just before he continues the rest of his sentence. “Y’know, I know a nice bar somewhere in Madrid. Good drinks, good music. I’m sure she’d love it there.”

Leon stays silent again but mentally notes the ‘good drinks, good music’. It would be nice to take her somewhere upbeat.

“But if that’s getting a bit too ahead of our current predicament then you can offer to tend to her wounds, best done in the evening when the night is cold and the fire is the only thing keeping us warm. It’s a sincere tender moment, just imagine it: you, her, and the rustling of trees. She–”

“She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done plenty of that and more so she’d go out with me,” Leon interrupts.

Luis freezes on the spot, eyes the size of golf balls, with his mouth ajar. Leon simply smirks and scoffs at the sight, trudging on. After a few moments, Luis comes rushing back to him. Luis is just staring at him, going off at him in Spanish while he just continues walking and tries to hide a smug grin. Luis wraps up on whatever he was saying, now staring back and forth at you and him before walking a little faster to join you and Ashley several steps ahead. The usual cocky expression makes its way back to Luis’ face, shooting you and Leon a knowing look now before chuckling along. Moments later, Leon decides to speed up walking to be able to catch up with everyone. He hears Ashley and Luis exchanging jokes with you occasionally laughing and butting in with your own. Out of the blue, Leon nonchalantly wraps an arm around your waist, much to Luis and Ashley’s shock.

“Ash, don’t tell HQ about this,” you whisper with a wicked grin before getting on your tiptoes and planting a kiss on Leon's cheek.

NOTE - Thanks to the lovely anon that requested this, I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I had a lot more fun writing this since I had to think a little more than I usually do when I write (if it makes sense), especially for the ballroom part of the fic. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon soon since I mostly write about RE2 Leon. Also, does anyone know the manga 'Veil' ?? I've recently (yesterday) got into it and now I'm hoping that physical copies are being sold where I live... Aleksander is cute I'll say that (I NEED AN ALEKSANDER IN MY LIFE IM SO ALONE AND SINGLE RIGHT NOW- SINGLE SINCE BIRTH EVEN). Anyways, that's it and thank you soo much for reading my fics!! I <3333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[cumikering]

Werewolf Keegan x reader

2k | fluff Keegan had the stiffest neck known to man (part 2)

It all started with a recon duty.

Alone, Keegan lay prone, seamless in the bushes in his dark attire. The full moon perched high, softened by the thick fog. The gentle rain tricked down the back of his neck under his mask.

He aimed down his sight, following the guard on patrol as he waited, waited for him to separate from the other. He took his time rounding the corner, puffing on his cigarette, rifle slung against his body.

As Keegan positioned his finger on the trigger, a branch snapped behind him.

His head whipped over his shoulder to see a shadow a few feet away, crouching. He jumped to his feet, heart pulsing in his ears. He yanked out his sidearm as the large beast pounced and pinned him down with a thump. The force knocked the gun out of his hand.

He freed his right arm with a grunt. He ripped his blade out its sheath, ramming it into the creature’s side repeatedly. It howled in pain and leapt away.

He staggered up, panting. In a swift move, he reverse gripped his bloodied knife. The beast growled, its brilliant yellow eyes glinting. Head lowered in caution, it stepped sideways, blood pouring out of the stabs.

“Come at me, bitch,” he spat out, mirroring its movement.

It snarled, the sound piercing, baring its pointy teeth before retreating into the woods.

He dropped to his hands and knees, heart beating out of his chest as sharp pain ran up his thigh. His pant leg had been shredded, the cuts under gushing blood. He let out an uneven breath. The bastard got him after all.

“Six-Two, how copy? What was that?”

He tried reaching for his comms, but fell to his side as he heaved, eyelids growing heavy.

“Keegan, do you copy?” The urgency in Merrick’s voice grew.

The crackle of his radio was the last thing he heard before everything went silent.

When Keegan woke with a grunt, the sun had just peeked over the horizon, casting a blue hue upon the woods. Leaves and twigs crunched in the distance.

His eyes fluttered open as he sat up, his head spinning. He reached for his holster before he realised he was all skin.

“What the fuck,” he muttered, wincing as he turned his neck. His clothes and gear strewn not too far from his camping spot the night before.

“Keegan,” a hushed voice called out, growing closer by the second.

He dove to his clothes, slipping them on frantically despite the dried mud on his body. Had it been that cold that he was delirious, like hypothermia victims who’d paradoxically shed their clothes? But if he’d got to that point, he wouldn’t have been alive then.

“Ajax! I’m here.”

His head whipped to Keegan. He breathed a sigh of relief as he jogged over. “We thought we lost you!” His eyes scanned over his body. “Oh shit, what happened?”

He followed his line of sight down to his mangled pants. He’d forgotten about his thigh. It didn’t hurt anymore.

“Oh. I- Fuck, there was a wolf. Huge.”

“Holy shit,” he muttered, reaching for his comms. “Scarecrow, he’s secure. Need medical. We’re heading to LZ.”

Ajax’s brows furrowed at how he made his way back with the state of his thigh, but Keegan was just relieved the mission had been a success despite the setback from his side.

On the ride back to base as he recounted the night before to his peers, his pants were cut to reveal his wound which had mostly dried up. He could have sworn the cuts were deep – look at the blood soaked cargos, but maybe his team was right, he just couldn’t see well in the dark.

Back on base as he cleaned his blade, the only evidence that the beast even existed, the bits of his dream came back to him. He tore through the woods on black paws to his heart’s content, each step light, unbothered by the nightfall.

It had felt impossibly real, the ground wet under him, the cold rain on his skin despite the thick fur. The smell of earth was comforting to the point of intoxicating, calling him back home.

Keegan chalked the night up as a fluke, a once in a lifetime occurrence he’d recall and brag about to the recruits. He got the scars to prove it after all.

But he had that dream again the month after.

Often when adjusting back to life after missions, his senses would overload the first few days. This time though, it was even more so. The hair on the back of his neck stood and the sweat only trickled more as the sky darkened.

This time as he lied on his couch, he remembered the warmth instantly rising to his skin, the tingling at his fingertips, the ringing in his ears. He couldn’t control his limbs when he stood and ripped his clothes off, before white hot pain seared his body for a split second.

Despite the light head and what felt like the worst case of sleeping wrong, he was surprisingly stable as he got off the floor and made his way back to the couch. But instead of turning to sit, he swiftly climbed onto it and lied down on his belly.

Wait, that’s not right…

He looked down. Two black paws on the upholstery. He let out a scream, but it didn’t sound right either.

He jumped off and barged through the bathroom door to meet a large black dog. Keegan jumped, making it bark. He froze in place as its growling resonated within the walls.

With the delay in his thoughts and movements, it took him way too long to realise he was dreaming. You never look right in mirrors.

He boofed, paws up on the counter. He tilted his head, tongue lolling as he revelled in his long snout and sharp teeth. His pointy ears and jet black floof made him feel far more like an oversized dog despite the yellow eyes – the only tell that he was a wolf. He chuckled to himself, or whatever the canine equivalent was.

It was dark outside, but he’d always wondered what it felt like to roll around on the grass. He pranced out, standing on his hind legs to open the door to no avail. His front paws slid right off the shiny, round door knob.

After a few attempts, he let out a sigh as he turned back to his apartment. What else would a dog do? Drink from the toilet bowl? Chew on shoes? Rummage through trash? None of those sounded particularly interesting.

Oh, he had a soft rug! He’d take what he could get.

He rolled on it as he panted for what felt like hours before his movements slowed and things went fuzzy again.

As vivid as the dream was, Keegan couldn’t write it off as another glitch because once more, he woke up bare with the stiffest neck known to man. The evidence stared back at him in the form of black fur all over the couch and rug.

“What. The. Fuck.” He sat up, reaching for the fur around him. He rubbed it between his fingers.

If not for the snarl over the comms, his team mates didn’t even believe him about the wolf with how shallow the cuts were that morning. They would certainly laugh at him if he told anyone about what just happened. He knew he’d lose his marbles if Ajax told him something similar.

He had to get to the bottom of this on his own. But first, he had to quench the odd craving for dry cereal.

Legend had it, you turned into a werewolf if you got scratched or bitten by one. Every night of the full moon, you’d get the urge to-

He scrolled down further, shoving more cereal into his mouth in his boxers.

A werewolf experiences his rut 2-3 times a year… His body would feel like it’s on fire… The wolf will then begin his journey to find his fated mate…

The mating bond is to be made within 7 full moons… Rejection would cause the werewolf to stay in his wolf form permanently…

He snickered. What a load of bullshit.

If this whole thing was real, he’d hear it on the news. But he never did, because this was insanity.

Yes, yes, he couldn’t explain the very-much-physical floof all over his apartment. But if for whatever reason he could chill as a wolf once a month, he wasn’t going to complain. As far as he knew there were no drawbacks to it if he could time it with his days off.

Maybe next time he could finally turn the door knob.

With every full moon, Keegan grew more and more comfortable in his new body. Every weekend he was home, he rented a humble cabin off the hiking site, thoroughly enjoying running through the woods and the solitude at the top of the mountain.

See, the lore was nonsense. He didn’t get sick anymore during the full moon (or ever). He could even shift on demand now - his deployments didn’t deter the doggo lifestyle. This was actually fun!

Until he burnt up during a mission. He could barely stand with his spinning head, and so he was sent to the safehouse to recover. He popped each and every pill he was prescribed, but his fever only worsened. He felt so hot… and bothered.

Was he given the wrong meds on accident? Who the fuck would prescribe medications with such side effect, during a mission at that?

He waited. An hour. Two hours.

With a sigh, he did what every man would to get the situation over with, yet the problem remained. Now sweating even more, he collapsed onto the floor with a pathetic grunt; his body like it was on fire.

On fire… On fire…

With the remaining energy he had, he grabbed his phone and navigated back to the lore from months before.

A werewolf experiences his rut 2-3 times a year. For days, his body would feel like it’s on fire with the desire to mate, marking his entrance into adulthood. The wolf will then begin his journey to find his fated mate…

His eyes narrowed.

Some say fated mates share scars and/or birthmarks, but one would ‘know’ he has found his mate when he can single out their scent and becomes possessive of them.

His face scrunched.

After meeting his mate, the mating bond is to be made within 7 full moons.  Failure or rejection would cause the werewolf to stay in his wolf form permanently by the 8th full moon, often turning feral from the heartache.

He dry retched. He never doubted the fact that he liked women, of the human variety.

To make the bond, the werewolf draws the blood of his mate from between their neck and shoulder under the full moon. The bond is only sealed if the pair loves each other and shares a dream that night. The mate can then choose to remain human or be turned into a werewolf by getting bitten in the same spot.

Wait. Human, you say?

As ridiculous as the lore seemed, he had nothing to worry about. There were no soulmates for him. The timer would never start because he knew he was meant to be alone.

So yeah, that was Keegan P. Russ.

He served his country as a Sergeant, kissed his mum on the cheek when he came home. He recycled, paid his bills on time, and gave up his seat to pregnant women and the elderly. He abided to traffic rules and had no road rage (at least that’s what he told himself).

Oh, and thanks to one recon duty, he was now a werewolf.

Heh. Good luck trying to ruin my life.

But as we all know, fate has a funny way of catching up to you.

More Keegan: second chance, fake dating

Special thanks to @tiredmetalenthusiast and @shadofireshinobi who helped me with this!

@glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

[nataliasquote]

I Know What You Are | n romanoff

Summary: The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily.

Warnings: blood, weapons, character death (oops), angst with no happy ending :)

wc: 5.9k (I got really carried away!)

note: this is part 2 of the ideas that were given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova so thank you love ❤️ this was fun

-⧗-

“I’ve got your six,” a familiar voice crackled through the redhead’s earpiece. She rolled her shoulders back and adjusted her grip on her gun, eyes darting across the smoke covered landscape that loomed before her. They’d picked a good vantage point but it was far too exposed for the assassin’s liking.

Natasha turned away from the edge and nodded to Clint, who’s arrow was already strung in his bow, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Her flash of red hair was the last thing he saw before she disappeared down the dark stairwell and back out onto the street.

“How long are we going to be circling like this, Nat?” Clint asked, a little out of breath as he finally caught up to his partner. Her eyes were distant, darting between the loosened bricks of the wall they were currently hiding behind. “Are you sure she’s here?”

“She is, I can feel it.” The echoes of gunfire and explosions rattled through their skulls, although the assassins were quite deaf to it now. Clint more than Nat. They clearly weren’t the only ones disturbed by the actions of one woman and her organisation.

A particularly loud bang went off nearby and Clint winced, his hand flying up to the hearing aid in his right ear. Natasha would have sent her best friend a sympathetic look if something hadn’t caught her eye across the desolate square.

A flash of silver, glinting in the orange sunlight as golden hour descended across the war zone.

“Got her.” Natasha scrambled up from her place and raced after the dark figure, her movements as silent and deadly as the night. Frustration spurred her onwards. This woman had been the source of Shield’s stress for months, but that was all about to end.

Her target’s preferred methods rather intrigued Natasha, who was all about efficiency when it came to killing. Guns were always in her arsenal, widow bites too. Her thighs often felt empty without a full holster. But the mystery woman never touched a gun. She was a master with a blade, stabbing and slashing her enemies with a brutal grace, silently dancing across the battlefield leaving disaster in her wake.

She was a free spirit, which drove Natasha mad. No one should be allowed this amount of freedom with her track history and there was no way Natasha was going to return to Shield empty handed. Not today.

The cacophony of noise ceased suddenly and Natasha felt Clint’s presence on the rooftop to her right. The hazy air was still so Natasha stuck to the shadows, the rough brick pressing through the fabric on her suit as she skulked around a corner.

But a sharp pain struck the back of her knee and she collapsed to the ground, a grunt of pain escaping her chapped lips.

A five inch blade thrown with horrifying accuracy had lodged itself in her upper calf ,only inches away from her knee. The pain was nauseating, but Natasha barely had a chance to properly process it before two dust covered boots stepped into her eyeline. With another grunt, she looked up at the figure before her, determined not to show pain on her face.

Her icy glare was met with a mask-covered face, one she knew well. The black mask was made of hard plastic and resembled two hands that covered the wearer’s mouth and nose - basically a muzzle. But playfully glinting eyes peaked over it and it was obvious they were paired with a smirk. Gloved hands twirled a knife, almost daring Natasha to step up and attack. But the redhead had been knocked off her game by those very eyes that taunted her.

She knew them…

Too well.

She used to love them. And as those gloved hands moved to slowly lift the mask from her face, Natasha felt her heart fall into the pit of her stomach.

“Y/n?” She dared to ask, voice barely above a whisper. She got no reply, but the subtle tensing of her opponent’s muscles told her all she needed to know. Fate was laughing at her. The woman she thought had been ripped away from her when they were teenagers was now towering above her, forcing suppressed memories of the Red Room to come crashing down onto both women, leaving them breathless.

This moment of hesitation was all Clint needed to fire, but Y/n was one step ahead. She’d seen him on the roof and knew what he was waiting for, so by the time his arrow had implanted itself into the wall, she had disappeared into the smoke, leaving Natasha alone. The knife in her leg and the rubble indenting her skin did nothing to shake her from her mind, still staring into the empty space where the woman had just been.

Clint came rushing over and dropped to his knee to inspect Natasha’s wounds. He didn’t dare address how much his best friend looked like she’d seen a ghost, pale face and wide eyes and not just from blood loss.

“Cmon, we have to get out here.” He hooked his arms under hers and tried to get her to stand, but Natasha was far too spaced out too even notice what he was trying to do. But Clint’s main concern was the knife. He couldn’t pull it out lest she bled out before they made the jet, but Natasha couldn’t exactly walk far either.

He propped her up against the wall and lightly tapped her face a few times, her green eyes shooting back to his.

“Where did she go?” She asked, suddenly breathless.

“I really don’t know. But you need to get to medical, Nat. We have to let her go.”

“I knew her. Oh my god, I knew her, Clint. Why is she here?” Clint didn’t know how to answer. Part of him thought she was just rambling nonsense from the bloodloss, but a small part of him knew she was making sense. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out where they knew each other from.

“We’ll figure it out when we’re back.” His eyes widened as Natasha’s hand gravitated to the knife lodged in her calf. He reached for her hands, holding them up and away from her injury.

“Clint,” she warned, trying to pull her hands away. “Let me pull it out and we can go after her.”

Clint had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Natasha’s stubbornness was infuriating sometimes. “That’s not gonna happen. She’s gone, Nat, and you need medical attention. Fury wouldn’t be impressed if you bled out from a knife wound.”

Natasha glared at him but stopped struggling and allowed him to help her limp back to the jet. They’d parked on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, so the stairs were a killer. Natasha’s lip bled from how hard she was biting it to muffle her cries of pain.

But the moment she sank down into her seat, memories flooded her mind, both positive and negative, but all involving Y/n. She wasn’t fifteen years old anymore with eyes full of hope, but the same spark was still there, one Natasha had fallen in love with.

What had happened to her?

~~~

The low clunk of a heavy metal door echoed through the chamber, three pairs of footsteps following suit. A female assassin, flanked by two guards, made her way to the centre of the room, her mask resting loosely between her fingers as her eyes remained fixed on the cracks in the concrete floor. The lighting was harsh, yellow bulbs buzzing, making her eye twitch.

Hushed voices became silent as she was presented before them and Y/n knew what was about to happen. She’d lived this day a thousand times.

“Agent,” one of the men called out, his voice gruff. “Mission report.”

“There was an ambush. I could not complete the mission, Sir.” Her eyes remained at her feet but she felt the air in the room shift and the guards beside her tense up. No one failed a mission in Hydra.

A pair of boots approached her and stopped only inches away. A calloused hand firmly gripped her chin and tilted her head up to the light, fingers bruising the skin on her jaw. “We taught you not to fail,” he spat, jerking his hand to emphasise his words. Y/n didn’t flinch. “All of your training, everything we’ve done for you and this is how you repay us?”

“There was a complication.”

He jerked her jaw again, forcing her to look him in the eye. “What complication?”

“The Avengers were there. I couldn’t-”

The sound of a fist slamming on a metal table made her jump and her mask clattered to the ground. The Avengers were a sore spot, and judging by the amount of Russian curse words intermingled with the Avengers’ name in only a few sentences, that hadn’t changed in the three days she’d been gone.

The agent in front of her returned to the group and Y/n finally took a breath, readjusting her jaw after its rough treatment. Although she worked willingly for Hydra, Y/n wasn’t that bothered with keeping track of exactly who they hated each week. She just did as she was told and breathed through the punishments that followed after. Work was work, unfortunately for her, and Hydra provided food and a roof over her head. Luxuries, as far as she was concerned.

A door opened to her right and she watched from the corner of her eye as a figure slipped through, sticking to the shadowed walls on instinct. The glint of a metal arm gave her a weird sense of peace and she turned to meet his eyes, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

“Soldat,” Pierce called, finally rising from his chair after staying silent for so long. He smiled slyly at Y/n who only ignored him. “Take our prized possession to the training room and make sure she never fails again. Use whatever measures you have to.” He directed his orders at Bucky who clenched his metal fist and grabbed Y/n/s forearm, dragging her out of the room.

Neither spoke a word until they reached the training room, just as dark and cold as the rest of the facility. You’d think an organisation like Hydra would have the funds to buy some decent light bulbs. All this yellow light was on Y/n’s last nerve.

Bucky threw her down onto the mats and stood with his arms behind his back as he watched the woman try to get her breath back. He didn’t intend to wind her, but the cameras in every corner were monitored so he couldn’t go easy on her.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his hair swinging beside his face and hiding his lips from view. Y/n waved him off and climbed to her feet, bringing her fists up to her face and setting her feet in a fighting stance. The cameras had no audio, so as long as they fought and he got a good few punches in, no one would suspect anything different.

“Don’t. Just hit me.” They circled each a few times, blocking a couple of punches but nothing major until Bucky grabbed Y/n’s arm and trapped her in a headlock, squeezing just tight enough that her airways were constricted. She tapped out and regained her position before they fought again, this time with her sending a few hits to his stomach.

“I need to ask you about something,” Y/n said through gritted teeth, deflecting a series of punches. Bucky grunted, which was his way of saying ‘go ahead’. “You know when you saw Steve for the first time since… you know, how did you handle it?”

Something shifted behind his eyes at the mention of his old best friend and he sent a strong left hook towards Y/n’s jaw, metal colliding with the bone with a crack. Her head whipped to the side and she let out a cry of pain, palm coming up to cradle her cheek. Bucky just watched for a moment before pulling her in front of him and forcing her to fight. They both hated this, but Y/n’s punishment would be ten times worse if he didn’t get enough good hits in. And Y/n preferred to be bruised by him than some old guard with unbridled rage and unchecked anger issues. Not a good mix.

“Was that not the right thing to ask?” How she could joke with a cracked cheekbone and bruised ribs was beyond Bucky, but humour seemed to be her preferred coping mechanism so he let her at it.

“It’s fine.” His words were more of a grumble than anything, but Y/n was used to that. He wanted to help, but you had to read deep between the lines. “I smashed several helicopters and almost killed him.” Wasn’t quite the response Y/n was expecting, or needed, really. “But they did brainwash me so I don’t suppose that helps.”

“Well, kind of?” Bucky narrowed his eyes and ducked, avoiding a punch before sending a kick to the back of Y/n’s knees. She wobbled but stayed upright, kicking him in the ribs to buy herself a couple of seconds of breathing time.

“Why do you ask? Did you see him?” It wasn’t hope that interjected his words, but Y/n noticed a flicker of something she couldn’t place a finger on.

“No, but I saw someone who reminded me of the same thing. Someone I thought I’d lost.” Natasha’s eyes, full of recognition and aspiration filled her mind and for a moment she faltered, lost in the dizzying memory, encapsulated by a flaming halo of hair. The scar in her eyebrow, her full lips, the ash that had settled on her black tactical suit; all flooding back and hitting Y/n like a truck.

She barely realised she was on the ground until she felt Bucky pin her arms above her head. She just stared into his eyes, a crease between her brows, unable to shake Natasha from her mind. Bucky watched her for a second before slapping her across the face.

“I’m sorry. Again.” He helped her to her feet. “But if they find out you know someone on the other side, they’ll do it to you too.” She’d watched many of his brainwashing sessions and even supervised when he’d come out of cryofreeze and none of it looked the slightest bit appealing. “I don’t want that for you.” She was the only good thing about this place and for his own sanity, he couldn’t lose her too.

“They couldn’t do that to me,” she said with a cocky smirk, her eyebrows quirking upwards. “I’m too valuable. Besides, Natalia won’t forget me again and would probably go on a killing spree if that happened.” Bucky shot her a look. “You’re right. That’s more my style.”

Bucky rolled his eyes slightly, unable to smile at her words. He was supposed to be an emotionless killer - they couldn’t know he had a soft spot for her.

“Luckily for you, you won’t see her again,” he said, swiping her legs from underneath her and sending her crashing to the floor. She scowled and scrambled up, jumping to wrap her thighs around his head in an attempt to bring him down. “It’s better that way.”

“Who says I won’t?” Y/n used her momentum to swing herself around, feeling his hands grip her thighs. “I want- I have to see her again. So I will.”

Successfully flooring him with an ‘a-ha’, Y/n straddled his waist and held her forearm to his throat. But she didn’t expect him to suddenly flip them both and mirror her actions, pushing her down into the thin mats and letting the cold seep through her suit as he held her there.

“So what, you’re going to kidnap her?”

Unbothered by her compromised position, Y/n just smirked, relaxing her body as she accepted defeat. “Who said anything about kidnapping?”

~~~

“Natasha, it’s a trap.” Clint was trying to talk some sense into his best friend, who was clearly having none of it.

“You think I don’t know that?” She gave him a look and returned to fixing her belt. “I’m prepared for this, so please stop stressing.”

“Oh, well forgive me for being sceptical seeing as the last time you encountered her she threw a knife into your knee,” Clint remarked with his arms folded over his chest. Natasha just rolled her eyes and stood up, adjusting her collar.

“I’m going to be ok,” she reassured, although her words fell on deaf ears. “I know who I’m dealing with.”

Clint looked into her eyes for a moment, trying to find a hint of doubt behind her bright green irises. But he found nothing but confidence, as usual. “But, do you?”

Whether it was part of her plan, no one knew, but Natasha walked straight into the trap with her head held high. It was easy, too easy. Natasha knew it, Y/n knew it. Yet that changed nothing. The blindfold was tugged from her eyes and she blinked, trying to adjust the dim light above her. The bulb only cast a small pool of light that spread not far from her chair, plunging the rest of the room into an eerie darkness. There was no sound, no gunfire or wind howling, and no windows as far as she could see. But her assessment of her surroundings was cut short when a figure stepped into view.

A small woman, slim, but muscular and toned enough to make it known that she could take down anyone of any size. Her posture was impeccable and she balanced a small blade between her fingers as if it were a feather and not a deadly weapon. Her lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t all that inviting or warm. The yellowy light cast shadows across her face as she observed her hostage for a few seconds.

“I thought interrogations were supposed to be your thing, Natalia.” The way her old name dripped off her tongue was like sweet honey and Natasha clenched her jaw, eyes fixed on the woman prowling in front of her. Sure, she could get out of the ties around her wrists, but something kept her there. A desire to learn more about her. “You gave up pretty easily.”

“You know damn well I didn’t give up,” she spat, glaring up at the woman who was now standing so close their legs brushed. “I came willingly.”

“Oh I know,” the woman said with a smile, tracing the sharpness of the redhead’s jaw with her knife. “You can’t resist me.” Her Russian accent was thick and had Natasha completely transfixed. The tip of the knife trailed down to her collarbones so gently. “I didn’t think it would take years though.”

“I knew where you were.” Not exactly a lie - she’d been tracking Y/n’s work for years. She just didn’t know it was Y/n behind the killing sprees and assassinations.

“You break my heart.” There was a mischievous sparkle behind her eyes and it frustrated Natasha to no end. “Guess you thought you were too good for me now, huh? All caught up in your Avengers business and no time left for me.” She pouted like a child.

Natasha looked up at the dim light above her head before answering. It was cliche really, tied to a chair in the middle of a damp room with only a single string bulb as a light source. But the woman before her was far more calculated than she ever let on, so Natasha knew it was part of some much bigger plan.

“Well I can’t exactly have a coffee with the enemy,” she said sarcastically. “The Avengers would take you in if you stopped murdering people for no reason.”

“Ha!” She spat out, turning back around to face Natasha, her knife spinning casually between her fingers. “Avengers. What a pathetic excuse for an organisation. You think they mean well, and that’s just adorable really.”

“They’re not pathetic.” If there was one thing Natasha was protective about, it was her family. “Take a look at who you work for, you’ll find some pretty pathetic business going on there.”

Y/n’s eyes darkened. “Hydra is not stupid. At least our scientists actually do something useful instead of pottering about building metal suits.” A jab at Tony Stark. Classy.

“Yeah sure, if you call illegal human experimentation ‘useful’.”

Y/n let out a soft laugh. “Don’t get all big and bossy with me,” she replied, watching as Natasha’s stony expression cracked slightly. “The twins signed themselves up, I did nothing.”

“You lured them in.”

“What can I say, I’m irresistible.” She winked at Natasha and disappeared into the shadows, leaving a very disgruntled redhead alone.

To say she was the most annoying person Natasha had ever met was a severe understatement. That woman got under her skin and just festered there, and no amount of focus would ever make her go away.

Whether she was knocked out or drugged, Natasha didn’t know, but when she next woke the room was a lot brighter and her hands were no longer tied behind her back. Y/n sat opposite her, the same blade laying flat in her palm.

“Took you long enough.” This wasn’t the same place as before and Natasha reached for her belt, wanting to feel protected. “Don’t. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s reassuring, considering you kidnapped me.”

Y/n finally looked up and scoffed, pushing her chair back so it scraped harshly across the wooden floorboards. “I did not kidnap you. We went over this Natalia. You came willingly.”

“And then you tied me up.” Natasha gestured to her wrists, now free of course.

“What can I say, I’m into that kind of thing.”

Natasha sighed. This was her chance. She wasn’t restrained, Y/n seemed relaxed and no one else was around. She could save a lot of lives, and her own ass by killing Y/n now. But somehow she couldn’t shake the memory of all the stolen kisses and touches they’d shared within the icy confines of the Red Room. How that young girl had been through so much and yet still felt so familiar sitting in the chair opposite.

“Y/n,” she started, switching her approach completely. “What happened to you?” The woman looked up, eyes dark, scanning across every inch of the redhead’s face.

“Why would you care anyway?” Her witty sarcasm was gone, replaced by a steel wall behind her eyes that fully blocked Natasha out. The redhead plagued her mind and tugged at the knot in her stomach, but she refused to let it win.

“You were there, and then you left. And I never knew why.”

“No. I didn’t leave. You did, Natalia.” Her tone was accusatory as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You left me alone in that place and you let them take me.”

“I didn’t leave you. They told me you got out, escaped, so I asked to go on more missions. I couldn’t bear it there without you.” Natasha’s voice dropped on the last few words, almost scared to admit her feelings out loud. How could she? The woman she swore to love for the rest of her life had broken her heart to the point where she had never loved anyone since.

“And you believed what they told you?” Natasha said nothing. “Somehow you manage to escape and you don’t come looking for me. We had a promise, Natalia. No matter what, we’d find each other. What happened to that?” Y/n was no longer a deadly Hydra agent gripping the handle of her knife like she was ready to send it flying into a target. No. She was a little girl again, holding onto promises as the last sign of hope in her life. Holding onto Natasha’s pinky finger with her own like their lives depended on it.

Noticing that Natasha didn’t want to break the silence, she continued. “Do you know how hard it is to find work with our skill set? For the ‘good guys’, I mean. You got lucky.” There was a hint of resentment in her words and it hit Natasha in the stomach. “When you tell people you’re an assassin for hire, they usually want to throw you into a penitentiary or shoot you dead right there and then. I had no choice.”

“If you knew where I was, then why didn’t you come and find me?”

Y/n hesitated for a moment. “You didn’t need me ruining what you’ve already got here.” This amount of vulnerability made Y/n’s skin crawl, but all her usual standards seemed to fly out of the window when Natasha was around. It had done ever since they were barely teenagers, soft lips pressed against each other in the gentlest of kisses. The fear of getting caught was worthless when compared to the comfort they had found within each other. “Besides, if I went after an Avenger, we’d both be dead.”

“They gave me a second chance, they would give you one too. You just have to prove it.” Natasha rose from her seat and joined the other woman who had moved to look out of the water-damaged window. “I can see how much you hate it, Y/n.”

“Hate what?”

“Working for Hydra. I can see it.”

Her grip tightened around her knife and Natasha took a step back. “No, they gave me everything.” But her words weren’t as convincing as she intended them to be, her lack of will to live and keep fighting catching up with her. “I owe them everything.”

“But Shield can give you more. You deserve to have something good.” Natasha squared her shoulders and reached out to place a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “No more pain, no more manipulation. You get to call the shots, make your own decisions.” Y/n wasn’t convinced. “We’d get a second chance too.” Her nose scrunched slightly, unable to gauge how Y/n would respond to her last words.

Y/n looked down at her hands, avoiding Natasha’s gaze and trying not to focus on how comforting her touch felt. She stared at the blood that had dried under her fingernails. It never seemed to fade, no matter how hard she scrubbed. She wanted so desperately to run, leave her problems behind like she’d always done. But part of her clung onto the prospect of a second chance with Natalia - she’d craved her warmth for over a decade.

Natasha saw the conflict flicker behind the woman’s eyes, a stark contrast to the sarcastic and confident front she’d put on only hours before. She was exhausted, anyone could see that and Natasha knew all too well what it was like to want to stop running. To stop fighting for other people and start fighting for yourself.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you came here to kill me?” Y/n’s eyes turned icy and she pulled her body away from Natasha, distancing herself once again. But the emotion in her voice couldn’t be masked, and it made Natasha’s expression soften.

“I made a different call.”

Y/n bit her lip, the knife between her fingers spinning rapidly but controlled. “I don’t deserve this second chance, Natalia. Just do what you came to do, earn yourself some more brownie points for the boss.” Her jaw clenched and Natasha pulled her gun from the holster. But instead of firing it, she simply slid it along the dusty floorboards, along with her belt full of weapons. Y/n scoffed at her actions, holding her knife as firmly as she could, but the tremble in her fingers gave her away. She didn’t mean this. Any of it.

“Well that was stupid.”

But her movements were suddenly halted. The door to Natasha’s left crashed down and three figures burst in, firing shots at Y/n before Natasha had a chance to protest. They’d seen the knife and reacted, ignoring the way Natasha yelled at them. The women threw themselves down onto the ground, Natasha shielding Y/n’s body with her own.

“Stand down!” She yelled, holding Y/n against the floor whilst turning over her shoulder. Steve, Clint and Sam stood in the doorway, weapons aimed and pointing at the assassins on the floor. “I didn’t signal anything!”

“You’d been gone for hours Nat, we had no choice. Fury gave the order.” Natasha ignored Clint’s words as Y/n groaned beneath her. Their weapons were still aimed at the Hydra agent despite Natasha’s glare.

The redhead slowly removed her hands and went to help Y/n sit up, but then she noticed the blood. It was visible even through her dark suit and Y/n gingerly pressed her hand to her stomach before pulling it away with a frown.

“I don’t know if we’ll get that second chance, Natalia,” she whispered, looking up at terrified green eyes. “You’ll have to do it on your own.”

“No, don’t say that.” Natasha replaced Y/n’s hands and began to press down on the wound, muttering her apologies as Y/n whined in pain. “You’re going to be ok.”

‘I want to be good, Natalia. I really wanted to be good.” Her words were strained as blood continued to pour from her wounds, coating Natasha’s hands instantly.

“I know, Y/n, I know. You will be, just stay with me please.” She pressed down harder, tears blurring her vision as she felt blood pooling beneath her palms. No one was listening to her cries for help- why weren’t they listening?

Y/n weakly grabbed Natasha’s wrist and pulled her hands off her wound, shaking her head at Natasha’s protests. She could taste metal on her tongue and the redhead’s face faded in and out of focus as she tried to shakily cup her cheek.

“Natalia-”

“No!” Natasha’s lip trembled and she shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Y/n/s grip. “You’re not leaving me now, I swear to god. You can be good, I know you can.” Y/n smiled weakly, barely conscious now as blood trickled from her lips. “Please, I just got you back! I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me, I’ll always be here.” Her nose scrunched up at how cheesy it sounded as she reached her hand up to point to Natasha’s chest. “Right here.”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk like that! You’re not giving up on me, Y/n. Pain only makes you stronger, come on!” She was just spewing words now, her sentences all jumbled and barely making sense as she pressed down on the wound. Y/n smiled up at her and tried to squeeze her thigh where her hand rested. But the energy in her body was fading fast and she could do nothing but look Natasha in the eyes in her final moments, wanting to memorise that specific colour one last time.

When her hand slipped to the floor with a thud, Natasha’s heart stopped. An eerie silence fell across the room, the feeling of death weighted like a blanket. The redhead didn’t make a sound, her sobs silent despite the tears trickling down her flushed cheeks. A stark contrast to her pale skin.

“No,” she shakily whispered, pushing Y/n’s hair back out of her face with a bloodied hand. “I’m sorry.” She cupped her bruised cheek and brushed her thumb over it, finally feeling her skin under her hand for the first time in years. It wasn’t as soft as she remembered, years worth of scars destroying the surface, but it was still perfect to her all the same.

Tears mixed with the blood and created a watery mixture that dripped down off Y/n’s chin and into the collar of her suit. Natasha dropped her head to rest on the other woman’s chest, hands moving to grip her shoulders tightly as though she might disappear. The redhead kept muttering apologies, wanting to make up for all the time they’d lost, even if it was fruitless.

The three men in the doorway shifted uncomfortably, the scene before them an unexpected one. “Natasha-“ Clint began, taking a step towards the redhead.

“What did you do?” Her voice was dangerously low and she slowly turned around, Y/n’s hand now clasped in hers. “Look what you did!”

Sam and Steve hung their heads, not wanting to see anymore of the dead woman across the room. Clint was just focused on his distraught best friend, who’s hands now matched the colour of her hair.

“Nat, we need to go-“

“Then go,” she spat. “I’m not leaving her.”

Clint let out a sigh and slung his bow over his shoulder. He gestured to Steve to help, who looked rather uncomfortable but followed anyway. “Well bring her with us-“

“What, so you can parade her in front of Fury and show off? Yes, well done, target eliminated! You don’t touch her!” Natasha was clawing and kicking as Steve pulled her to her feet. She held onto Y/n’s hand for as long as possible before Clint gently tugged it free, triggering an outburst from Natasha.

She was a mess of limbs, uncharacteristically uncoordinated as she struggled against Steve’s body as he guided her out of the room, practically carrying her as she refused to walk. The whole time she screamed out for Y/n, her voice growing more hoarse by the second. She took no interest in her surroundings, the dimly lit stairwell not even registering in her mind. All her spy training had completely vanished.

She was placed onto one of the benches in the jet and she watched, a shaking mess, as Clint placed Y/n’s limp body on the floor opposite, blood no longer pouring from her stomach. Natasha stayed frozen in her seat, knees pulled up to her chest as a defence mechanism. She didn’t care that there was blood on her hands, nor that it transferred onto her cheek when she wiped her nose. No, she didn’t care about anything except the woman lying in front of her.

The lifeless woman.

She wanted to scream but it was as if all the emotions had drained out of her body like a flood. She was numb, just staring with empty eyes, the light behind them barely flickering now. Clint shot worried glances in her direction once the jet was in the sky, and Steve and Sam stayed well away, not wanting to fall under the wrath of an extremely angry and emotional Natasha.

Not that she cared what the others did. She just wanted the one thing she couldn’t have. Fate had shown her time and time again that it was not on her side, but this truly was her final straw. There was no fixing this.

They had found and lost each other within the space of a months. But this time there were no second chances. It was set in stone, just like Y/n’s name would be for the rest of time.

Maybe, in another lifetime, they would finally meet again.

Maybe, in another universe, Natasha Romanoff could truly be happy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Your Six

Warnings: dark elements, stalking, violence.

Another sidequest complete (...or maybe you want more of this one? Let me know your thoughts!)

You have a second shadow. You're not alone. While your pursuer has given themself away, you're in no rush to do the same.

You keep going, slinking from pillar to pillar, balancing your target with whoever seems to have made you one. You keep your back to the wall as you grip your pistol, one ear listening ahead of you, the other behind you. You dip back into a pool of darkness and shuffle your foot to make it sound like you're running, let the noise peter off as you wait

A figure smoothly turns the corner and you stand unseen in the alcove. Shit, you know that goddamn strut. Even when he's trying to be covert, he's a dead giveaway.

What the hell is Hansen doing here? This isn't his kind of job. Unless you're his assignment.

You watch him creep past. He slows as he listens to the silence, stopping completely. You raise the barrel of your gun towards him as you tiptoe out from behind the pillar. He hisses into a cackle, raising his hands.

“Take it easy, toots,” he faces you slowly, “we're not enemies here.”

“Aren't we?” You approach with your hand steadied against your forearm.

“I'm just watching your six. Like a nice guy does.”

“Hansen,” you walk to him until you have the barrel to his back, “what the hell are you doing here? I'm not splitting the fee and I have no problem wasting a bullet in your ass.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he gives a dramatic shiver, unfazed by the gun between his shoulder blades.

“This isn't an open bounty,” you snarl.

“Toots, if you're not gonna use that thing, put it away,” he turns to face you slowly, “at least, that's what I've always been told.”

You shake your head and scoff, lowering the gun halfway. You sneer at him in the darkness and huff, “why are you getting in my way? Again.”

“Again? What– are you talking about San Paolo? I'm flattered you remember–”

“I nearly lost an eye.”

“Really? You're looking good, toots–”

You close your eyes and exhale through your nose, “I don't have time for this.”

You sidestep him and continue down the pillared walkway. You keep along the wall and stop as you sense him following once more. You pull back and holster your gun, just as swiftly slipping free your knife. You spin to bring it just along Hansen’s throat.

“I'll tell you one last time,” you hiss.

“I'm helping–”

“I told you, you're not getting a cent.”

“Trust me, honey, the view is worth it–”

“You are–”

“Deranged. Devoted. A total bottom.”

You bite down another snipe as the stone pillar beside you cracks and powder puffs in the air. Fuck. You dip into the shadows as Hansen shoulders past and raises his gun. Two shots before he crams into the alcove next to you

“Really?” You sneer.

“Tight fit, babe, but always figured it would be,” he chortles as he squints into the darkness. “Think I got th–”

Another shot silences him. You wonder if he's hit but don't really care. You duck down and switch out your blade for your fun. You creep along, listening to the approach of those that pest has drawn in.

You weave in and out of shadows, zeroed in on the echoing footsteps. The first silhouette falls before your silenced shot, the second doesn't notice his comrades collapse until it's too late and he joins him on the stone. The third you don't spend the bullet and use the but of your gun against the back of his skull.

You hear a scuff and raise your gun. Hansen waves and pants as he appears once more.

“Got one,” he puffs proudly, “damn, look at that.” He marvels at the bodies heaped around your feet, “you work fast, baby.. I'm more the type to take it slow.”

“Ugh,” you scowl and turn away.

As you do, you hear Hansen barrel towards you. It's too late for you to get your aim. You dodge as best you can as the rifle levels across from you only to be bowled over from behind.

You hit the ground as a shot fires and Hansen grunts. He fires back and the man lands on the rifle with a rattling gasp.

Hansen hisses and drops to one knee, grasping his side as he wheezes. You sit up, check your gun, and stand. He should've stayed away.

You flinch as suddenly a loud thrum cuts the night air. Fuck. You look above as the helicopter rotor whirls loudly. You harumph and kick a body near your feet.

“Fuck.”

“Don't worry, baby, I can take you on a nice vacation, you don't need the bounty,” he sucks in air and stands, “I got you.”

You look at him and scoff. You sneer and bring your gun up, aiming at his ass as you fire. He yelps and falls back down, grasping his rear. You shake your head and mutter.

“Fucker.”

You spin and walk back the way you came. Dimwit better get the hint. Next time you'll aim higher.

“See ya soon, toots,” he calls after you in a strained grit, “probably in my dreams.”

[cultofdixon]

That growling wasn’t a walker

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • You can handle just one walker…or a few…or really, yeah. Daryl is in for a surprise • SFW/Smol ANGST • TW: Minor Injuries / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

“It’s getting late, should set up camp somewhere”

“Go ahead and set it up” Y/N handed Daryl the few squirrels and one rabbit she caught, earning a confused look from the man. “Heard some walkers. Gonna take them out before setting up our trigger lines”

“Smart…just be safe okay?” Daryl reminds his partner always as she gave him a smile bringing herself close enough for him to meet half way for their lips to touch. “Don’t make me have to come after yea” a hint of a smirk peaked out when Y/N playfully smacked him in the chest before heading toward the low growling she heard.

Y/N went a bit further than she expected from where she was with Daryl. The sound grew louder so she half expected to deal with at least a handful of walkers. Nothing she can’t handle. She was starting to hear a different tone with the growling that it started to come off as animalistic.

“Hm…” Y/N kept her gun holstered and readied her hunting axe when it came to the bigger animals.

And boy. Wait til Daryl heard about this

She’s been gone a minute Daryl thought as he finished the fire and half the trigger lines, keeping the direction she went off to open so she wouldn’t trip and hurt herself. It’s happened. He’s learned his lesson.

Footsteps started to come clear and they were heavier than normal if they were Y/N’s. He knows it’s wrong but to be safe he readied his crossbow and soon enough her silhouette came clear. Daryl instantly glued his gaze to the amount of blood on her and tried not to think too hard about it.

“Rough kill?”

“Something like that—-Hey Daryl, have you ever like eaten a grizzly bear?”

That made him look up at her confused stopping himself from making a makeshift grill.

“Nah, be crazy to hunt a bear”

Y/N crouched down a bit to his level as Daryl got a clearer look at the blood on her noticing it was fresh and part of his mind went to she got hurt.

“Would you…say they’re edible though? Never heard somebody eat a bear”

“Anythin’ is edible if you’re hungry—-You gotta sit down let me look—-“

“Cool. I got bear for dinner” She patted her legs as she rose from the crouched position taking a few steps back before dragging a dead bear into view. “Son of a bitch put up a fight”

The man was speechless watching her drag this grizzly bear next to him and immediately sat on the other side taking out her knife about to start skinny when he stopped her.

“Sweets, we gotta get you cleaned up and make sure you ain’t too badly injured”

“I’m not. Just a few scratches and probably a gnarly bruise on my side from getting almost knocked off my feet but I’m good” Y/N plopped herself down and started to get to work, and Daryl helped her knowing if he quickened the process he can access her injuries.

It took a few hours and a bit of convincing, but here they were. Sitting next to one another enjoying some of the bear meat while the rest was wrapped up and hung up to avoid losing the hunt to what was hunted. Daryl finished wrapping Y/N’s arm in the last of the bandage he carried letting her finally have a full grasp on some of the bear meat.

“You’re crazy you know that”

“I’m hangry, let me enjoy this”

The archer rolled his eyes watching her eat and occasionally adjust the bear pelt laid on her shoulders. It was still unsettling that his partner took on a bear, not surprising because she can definitely handle shit but how she didn’t get help or even wanted it.

“Just wait til Michonne hears about this”

“She’s gonna be so proud” Y/N laughs a little to herself knowing damn well Michonne is gonna accuse Daryl of not keeping a close eye on his partner. Because she has a tendency of doing radical things.

Once they packed up and headed back home, Michonne wasn’t the only one to greet them back as she was accompanied by Carol and Aaron who both noticed the bandages and bear pelt on Y/N.

“Daryl, what happened?”

“We brought back a lot of game” Daryl states dropping the bag by Aaron’s feet as he immediately looked inside with a confused look.

“Uh. That’s a lot of meat”

“Captain Obvious over here” Y/N laughs, shrugging the bear pelt off and handing it to Michonne as she kept her attention on her injuries. “Hey, it lost the fight”

“You two hunted a bear?? You know how dangerous—-“

“Ha!” Y/N cut Carol off immediately. “We…”

Then all three of them looked at Daryl with a hint of anger and worry but the second emotion was more directed toward Y/N.

“She hunted a bear”

“All by herself”

“When she could’ve just left it alone” Michonne finishes only to roll her eyes to Daryl’s shrug of a response.

“She didn’t die”

“SHE STILL GOT HURT!” Aaron pointed out the obvious one more time as Y/N sighs patting Daryl on the shoulder.

“They are ungrateful to my hard work” and with that she made her way back to their place. Knowing damn well Daryl was going to get chewed out by the three and she wasn’t going to stay there for that.

[dannyboy-writes]

Just some III

so part three is here!! hope you enjoy Part 4 will be coming soon and that will most likely wrap it up // tags @unicorniusfallapatorius @automaticdinosaurtaco

You woke to a strained neck, and Natasha still sleeping on your shoulder. Her soft curls tickling your skin as she leaned close to you.

You managed to squeamish out of the couch without waking Natasha, then tried to quietly make breakfast.

Her face was calm and she looked peaceful, so you decided to go for a jog into town, thinking of stopping to buy a few pastries on the way back.

Natasha startled awake some time after you left, her head no longer rested on your steady shoulder, and her hand laid on her own leg.

The sun peaking slowly through the window as she got up and smelled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

She gazed around the room as you waltzed through the front door, a bag in your hand and a smile on your face, your hair a disarrayed mess.

“Went for a run?” She asked, looking at you intently.

“And brought pastries.” You smiled. “Just baked.”

You poured some juice and opened the bag, picking one up and savouring it, as Natasha leaned to pick one.

“We have a location today,” she told you while taking a bite.

“Sweet, when do we leave.”

“In a few hours, you can probably finish your second breakfast with ease.” She smirked.

You raised an eyebrow, “I see you enjoying my breakfast as well.”

“Of course.” She smiled before drinking the last of her coffee, and moving to the sink.

You both got ready before leaving for the direction headquarters had given you and you made sure to pack the rest of the pastries, to Natasha’s annoyance.

You drove to the location, going over the plan with Natasha on the way, and before you finished discussing the specifics, you got there.

Placing your gun in your holster, and straightening your bulletproof vest, you handed Natasha an earpiece, and put one on yourself.

“Okay, so, I’ll go to the front, and you meet him in the back. And done deal,” Natasha told you, placing a few knives here and there.

“Roger that, seems easy. Stay on coms, we’ll get this asshole.”

Natasha smiled, locking the car and heading to her spot, as you left for yours.

“Y/n, come in.” You heard through the comms.

“Nat, missed my voice already?” You teased.

“Jerk. No, I- I wanted to say it was good being on this mission with you. You know, when Fury assigned it to me I wanted to pass it on so badly, I- I guess I thought it would be hard being with you not being with you, you know?” She sighed, “I guess I didn’t want to face my choice of leaving you.”

You didn’t answer.

“It’s not that I don’t still love you. I just… I couldn’t risk my life on the job knowing I had you to go back to, I couldn’t be reckless anymore, and I thought cutting you out was the way to work better… But I was wrong.”

You didn’t answer.

“Y/n…”

“Tasha I- I’m in the middle of something,” you grunted, clearly struggling against someone.

“Going.”

She got there as you fought with the suspect, taking a hit to your nose and dodging a knife to your stomach.

You pushed him as she ran towards you and kneed him in the ribs, making him drop the knife, sending him tumbling towards a wall where Nat subdued him and placed him in cuffs.

You leaned over yourself trying to grasp for air, blood running down your nose, as Nat approached you.

“What a team, huh,” you groaned, standing up.

“You seem to have done the rough bit there, Rambo,” She told you, handing you a tissue for the blood.

“So you do watch movies!” You laughed, grimacing at the sting of your possible busted nose.

“Of course, I have a life too, you know.”

“Yeah, right. Oh, by the way I couldn’t hear anything you were saying, dipshit over there threw a fucking smoke bomb and fell over a car. Car alarms really don’t do anything other than annoy people.”

“They’re supposed to be annoying. So people intervene, you know.” She remarked.

“I don’t think anyone ever heard a car alarm and thought anything other than ‘someone please shut it off’,” you shrugged. “Anyways, what did I miss?”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “Oh, nothing important. I just don’t believe you have an Elvis’ mark on the ceiling.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Romanoff?” You asked with fake hurt as she shrugged.

“You tell me.”

After some time, Fury’s agents came to get the suspect and take him off your hands, and you two went back to the house as you and Natasha both decided it was better to call today off, and head to sleep.

Your head ringed still from the hit, a slight monotone pitch interrupting your sleep, and a sting over your now bandaged nose. Annoying, more than worrisome.

A soft knock pulled your attention off the headache, and suddenly Natasha’s face peaked through the ajar door. Lit by the moonlight coming from your window.

“Hey…” She said, timidly.

“Nat? What is it?” You lifted your back, resting on your elbows.

“No- Nothing. It’s stupid, sorry. I shouldn't have woken you.” She rambled.

“Hey, no, I wasn’t sleeping.” You assured her. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither, my nose burns.” You chuckled.

“No.” She sighed. “I can’t sleep without you, y/n.”

Your eyes widened as Nat gazed down.

“Since when?”

“Always.”

You smiled sadly. “Come in.” You patted the bed beside you. “You need to rest, you’re tired.” You added when she didn’t move from the door frame.

Slowly she made her way to the bed as you moved to the side, and she got in.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you told her, placing your arm behind her back, pulling her closer to you. Your hand moving idly through her hair.

At first she was tense, but she slowly fell into a slumber, steadying her breaths with your own as your hand traced lousy patterns on her head.

You focused on your hand’s movement, your eyes blurring in and out of sleep. With a last glimpse of Elvis’ figure over you before falling asleep with Natasha.

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

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

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[xo-urban]

ehe may I request an x male reader for Ghost?

Ghost x Male reader where male reader is a medic who is really gentle with people's wounds and quick on his feet, but is secretly hella aggressive?

One day the team is compromised when a mission fails and are surprised to see their medic rawdogging the enemies with just a knife and a pistol.

Had fun writing this! First ghost fic, enjoy! 🫶

Surprise Me, Pretty Boy

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Medic!Male Reader

Summary: Everyone knows that gentle you patching people up after getting hurt, but desperate times call for desperate measures and you have chosen violence.

Warnings: Violence

Word count: 412

You were Task Force 141’s medic, you were like a walking first aid kit, trained to work on the battlefield with chaos all around you. You had this gentle touch when helping others, yet you worked quickly and efficiently. It's what you’ve been trained to do from the day you joined the military.

Right now you were patching Ghost up after the two of you barely made it out alive from Grave’s men. You worked quietly, cleaning up Ghosts scratches and minor wounds.

“You aren’t doing too hot doc.” Ghost murmured lowly, watching you work for a bit, glancing back at the environment that surrounded the both of you in a bog of darkness. “Tired and winded, but I’ll make it out alive” You reassured in a soft whisper.

Ghost nodded, eyes widening at the snap of branch ruined your moment. You both tensed when you heard more than just one pair of footsteps heading towards your direction from all around. “Shit!” You cursed, finishing up Ghost’s last wound that you were tending, “Let those bullets fly Ghost!” You stood quickly, pulling him up as he grabbed his rifle with a huff, shooting as many enemies he could as they came into view.

“Keep them off our trail!” You commanded, pulling a pistol out of its holster, clicking the safety off as you unpocketed your beautiful knife in all of its glory. You were never known for violence, but desperate times need some way out.

You saw them approach, aiming their guns at you. You fired your gun, emptying bullets to their skulls with a damn near perfect aim. You threw your knife at a man, going straight into his throat, blood spurting from his mouth as you reloaded your gun in the process. You tossed the empty round to the ground, sliding over to the corpse you just killed, grabbing your knife from his throat as you kept on running, clearing a path between the enemies and bodies.

“Here!” You called as Ghost quickly followed you into a truck. You both hopped in, Ghost settling in the driver's seat. “You are full of surprises.” Ghost chuckled as he began to drive as the truck roared to life. “Expect to see more in the future darling” You smirked, “I’ll be waiting any day love” Ghost spoke, tone light and easy. You looked over at him, his eyes scrunched up like a soft smile was formed under that mask.

“Surprise me, pretty boy.”

[sanguinedipity]

Somethings You Just Can’t Speak About.

simon “ghost” riley x reader

angst

wc: 1.2k

simon watches you slip slowly through his fingers knowing there’s nothing he can do about it.

TW: depiction of PTSD, violence and depictions of the military.

He’d known you were crashing and burning for a while now. There was once a cloudy sort of content look in your eyes that he had admired, the illusion of you being in one piece maybe, and he couldn’t seem to recall the exact moment it had been replaced with cold, grey stone. A wall you’d put in between yourself and what you did - and it probably helped for a while, to hide behind it and convince yourself you were doing the right thing. What was best for everyone else so the people in their homes, washing their dishes and working their 9-5s, didn’t have to see what you saw. The life draining out of eyes and the blood staining concrete. But a killer on a mission is a killer all the same; you’d ran out of justification for your actions. He wishes he could say he’d been concerned seen the changes in you but really he’d praised you for it. you’d become so much more obedient, so quiet. Your voice no longer filled the team’s communication channels, or the mess hall, or the briefing tent because you were somewhere else entirely, on some other plane of existence where he couldn’t reach you.

Simon only really began to notice the signs on your second to last mission together, he didn’t know that at the time and if he did he would never have let you step onto that aircraft. It was a routine stealth operation, no altercations, just smoothly in and out, but of course it would be too much to ask for a mission to go to plan. The village you were making your way through had been invaded by foot soldiers for an underground crime ring that the 141 had been tasked with gathering intel about. The organisation’s core members had recently abandoned their headquarters; a house at the heart of the completely remote village which was your team’s point of contact. Make it to that house, source the information needed, and escape, that was the plan. However, on the route to the house that you were walking with Ghost, the streets were littered with bodies from the gang’s invasion. Whole families had been forced from their homes and slaughtered on their doorsteps. This was your first shift in character he had witnessed, it was small but usually you’d utter an apology to the people who had died for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Instead, you disregarded them and you stepped over each body calculatedly like you were on autopilot. He wishes he had stopped you on the side of that road and shaken the life back into you but he was a creature of habit. The worst habit being that he never got too close, so he doesn’t have to feel weak and dependent. Feeling weak would be so much better than whatever he feels right now. The mix of regret and guilt and loss enveloped his chest and suffocated any hope he had left.

Suddenly, muffled voices were heard from inside one of the now ransacked houses. There were two men that were clearly gang-members and two other voices that belonged to civilians sobbing and screaming. You didn’t react, there was no suggestion that you’d even heard the voices over whatever was happening inside your head but you approached the house anyway. Into the doorway and through the living room until you were standing in a small kitchen where the voices were coming from. A mother and daughter cower on the tiled floor looking up at the two gang-members until a shot from Ghost’s gun wiped out one and your knife plunged into the other. You’d never usually use your combat knife. It was something Ghost used to muse about as the blade in your holster was spotless and without a scratch. At least it was. Watching the now dull and stained edge sink into the man’s neck made Ghost’s hair stand on end. Something had gone seriously wrong. Mind-breakingly wrong. He swore it had been only a few weeks since he had last saw it gleaming at him from your utility vest. This is when the dread set in. One of his teammates had slipped completely under his radar and into some inescapable darkness, he was responsible for you, how did he let this happen? You had already gotten up and began to usher the civilians upstairs and asked them to remain silent until help arrived.

“Good work Lieutenant.” was all he said to you and you didn’t say anything back, just gave a curt nod before exiting the house and continuing on your route. He would try to talk to you the rest of the way there but his fears had already been established. There was no saving a soldier lost to their own mind. He could only imagine what was playing over and over again behind your eyes and what was haunting your dreams as you tried to sleep that night. On your next mission everything unraveled which caused lead to your discharge, your entire team had watched something snap in you as you took down your target, unsheathing your knife and buried it in his chest again and again and again and again. You had to be dragged off of his long-cold body, kicking and screaming face drenched in his blood. He’d heard all of the wild stories about the incident; that you were possessed, were a secret serial killer, sleeper agent or a secret russian spy. He’d grown so tired of closing down every conversation that surrounded these theories and he could only imagine what it was like for you. To have so many witnesses as you broke down and not even be present yourself. You’d never be able to tell him what had happened, what had flipped some invisible switch inside you and turned you into a hollow shell. And he was the only one who seemed to remember the real you, the one that had joined the special operations unit after only 5 years of service because of your talent and drive, the you that would do anything to save a life but couldn’t forgive yourself for the ones you had to take, the you that had given her entire life to this job to be part of something bigger than yourself only to be thrown away at a moment’s notice and have your good name tarnished by locker room talk and conspiracy. It still makes guilt creep up his spine to this day, all of his repentance manifests in his dreams as he watches the inky black void swallow you whole or when he’s walking down the street sometimes he swears he saw your reflection in a shop’s window or heard your laugh from around a corner. But you’re long gone. When something dies, that’s it, it’s dead. You’ve got to let it be. He needs to let you be.