#and also a bullet hole in my forehead:)

[frankieplsrelax]

i didnt go out w my sister last night bc i was so exhausted from work on saturday and i dont think im gonna get out of it again tonight but i have a headache and i just started my period and i can feel every muscle in my body like the seams where they meet and i wanna crawl in a hole and never leave so instead im gonna abuse my weed pen and take the hottest longest shower and hopefully be okay after<3

[draconic-desire]

💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥

Yandere Boothill x Reader

Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???

You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.

“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.

Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.

That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.

He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.

You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.

Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.

“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.

Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.

You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.

It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.

That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.

After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.

He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.

His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”

You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.

Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.

You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.

His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”

Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.

“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”

“And if I refuse?”

That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.

Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.

It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

“You just want to hear me curse because you can’t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.

He forgets you’re not the only one armed.

You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”

The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.

That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.

“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.

“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.

His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”

The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.

~*~

Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.

The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.

Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”

“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”

He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.

“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”

“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”

He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”

“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”

“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”

In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.

The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.

Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”

As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.

Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.

Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.

Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.

“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”

[callofdudes]

So, uh, I was watching Bad Boys 2 with my dad and when the shootout scene happened and Marcus accidentally got shot in the ass I couldn’t help but wonder after I was done LMFAOing; how the COD boys (or the guys from 141 if you have a character limit) would react to and deal with having been shot in the ass? Especially if their S/O or best friend was there?

Ouchie ouchie. Here ya go anon! Sorry it took so long!

Getting shot in the ass.

Fucking humiliated.

First off, it hurt and oh boy he would not talk to anyone. If you're not in the immediate vicinity of medical attention he is going to have to be taken care of by one of you.

He'd probably trust either you or Price. He loves Johnny but not enough to touch his whole ass.

If you're his spouse you will 100% try to make jokes to calm him down, and it doesn't end up making it any better. Simon laying on his stomach writhing in pain while you've got him pantsed.

He's never speaking to any of you again. He'd rather be buried alive than have you bandaging his whole asscheek so he doesn't bleed everywhere.

"Are-fuck! Are you done yet!?" He growled, turning into a whine near the end because he's in pain. Come on man...

"Almost Simon, just hang in with me ok?"

He whines, and you continue to as gently as you can patch the wound. And like a meanie you're trying not to laugh the whole time.

When you're done you'll pat his butt gently and help him up. "Fuck you, and fuck that last 20 minutes of my life." He winces, attempting to stand.

"It's an occupational hazard y'know-"

"In my ass. MY BLOODY ARSE!"

"Well it's not bloody anymore...??"

Yeah he's never speaking to you. Or the others. He'll go back to that coffin where he was safe and his beautiful ass wasn't being threatened 24/7.

When you get back if you tell anyone he's suffocating you in your sleep. Not like the medical team will let him go. Surgery to get the bullet out of his arse and then was hurting for weeks.

Glaring constantly because now he has one of those butt pillows that you'd sit on after a BBL. And the recruits are bugging him because, "Got a lift Lt??" "Thought it was already big enough."

His arse is a point of contention for him and now he's being pointed out for the masses.

"You... You want me to help??"

"Nope." He dragged his leg, limping his way as blood spilled.

"You've uh, got a hole in your-"

"I'm very well aware!" He grimaced, trying to ease down on his side. "Other room." He demands.

"I can help-"

"OTHER ROOM."

"Yes sir."

You step away and let Price undo his belt and survey the damage himself. The last time he was bleeding from his arse his military dad was spanking him upside down and sideways.

By the time he realizes he's going to need a little help he's already regretting his life. He's nearly had his balls shot off before, this shouldn't be news to him, but also, why....

Begrudgingly he calls you back in after messing with it enough it hurts twice as much as before.

So you grab some bandages and get to work.

"Don't-"

"I'm very well aware of where my hands are going captain, you're fine."

"Gross."

"You're bleeding."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He rubbed his forehead, sighing.

You feel less inclined to snicker at Price because the poor man is just trying to make a living fighting crime. He doesn't deserve this. His beautiful soft ass doesn't deserve this.

When you get back he is just wanting the bullet out by that point so he doesn't fight medical. They get the bullet out and he is taking painkillers like they're going out of style. (No, not in an unhealthy way)

Will probably stay between his room and his office. He wants to do work very badly and hasn't enjoyed sitting around doing nothing for long periods of time.

Can't wear his favorite pants now because they're tighter and the seam cuts right into the stitches. Sweatpants and butt pillow it is until he's out of this hell.

Most recruits know not to poke the bear, unlike you. Or Simon.

"Whew, that was close." You panted and looked at Johnny with relief. "No kidding." But as the adrenaline wore off, Johnny felt lightheaded, and fell to his side.

"Ow-" He winced, his leg feeling numb. You quickly rushed to him and looked him over. He wasn't shot anywhere... Oh. Oh, no never mind, yes he was.

"Johnny..."

"Yeah..?"

"You're shot."

Johnny followed your gaze and saw.

Surprisingly calm. Like, out of everyone he doesn't panic as much. Pulls up his shirt into his mouth and tells you to get it out.

You're hesitant because it's trying to pull a bullet out of someone's ass. And pulling a bullet out is never... Fun. But he trusts you, even if his cheeks are glaringly red from utter embarrassment.

But he doesn't want anyone else to do it for some reason, so you do your best.

Long story short, it did not go well. You ended up messing with the wound that his right ass cheek was so swollen. He looked like an idiot. Laying on his stomach in pain while waiting for Evac.

"I'm sorry..." You rubbed his shoulder.

You'd pulled his pants down further, while still being respectful. But man if he didn't look stupid, and it looked like it hurt. One cheek much bigger than the other, red and swollen.

Johnny promised to never get shot in the ass again. After he was put on bed rest because he had an infection. So uh... That was a fun adventure.

"Why the hell did you try to dig the bullet out of my ass??" He looked over at you when you visited him.

"You told me to do that! I told you it was a bad idea."

"Oh yeah..." He sniffled and crossed his arms, pouting his lip.

"Johnny.. come on, it'll get better."

"Well it can't get worse. Can it?"

"Ow!! Bloody- shit!" He slid down a wall and looked down at his side, expecting the stinging pain he felt to have hit his leg, he was dismayed to find the bullet had got him in the ass.

"Oh fucking of course!" He groaned and tried his best to hold something over the wound while still getting bullets pelted at him.

"How're we looking, sergeant??"

Kyle looked back briefly and then adjusted his gun. "Fine! But I've got a bloody hole in my arse!"

"Say again?"

Kyle groaned. Falling out of helicopters, getting shot in the ass, what was next huh?

"I've. Got. A. Bullet. In my ass!!"

Mortified when the others get to him and see he was not lying. Kyle must have just about the worst luck because what the hell is this?? They got him to medical and they did indeed confirm he had a bullet where the sun don't shine.

His perfect, pretty, unscarred butt was now about to be dug into to get a bullet out. How humiliating. He had bad stuff happen to him, but this he refused to talk about.

"How're... How're you feeling?" You asked after he came out of surgery. Still high on drugs, Kyle glared at you. "Don't even..."

"Don't what?" You snickered slightly.

"Oh fuck off..."

You smiled a little and sat down. "Hey, you'll recover. It sucks, but you've gotten through worse."

"Bullet in the ass."

"Had a bullet in the ass."

"It was still there at one point. That was my reality, y/n!"

You lovingly shushed him with a glass of water.

Kyle did not say a word about it. Even when he needed a pillow to help him sit after the surgery, he never pointed it out. And the others saw the look, if they said anything Kyle would drag them behind a shed and suffocate them with said pillow.

And therefore, for everyone's collective safety, it was never brought up.

[star-suh]

Bounty Hunters

Kim Jungwoo x Male Reader

cw: wild west au, top jungwoo, some angst ig, hate fucking to fluff fucking idk, bareback, creampie, a kinda toxic relationship between them, some spit play.

—

this is the story of kim jungwoo and yn ln, two 'silly' bounty hunters that can't stand each other except when it comes to sex.

“hey you son of a bitch” jungwoo exclaimed shooting at yn's feet. “what are you doing with that poster. that reward is for me, i am looking for him already.. forget about him, go get another".

“oi you bastard, look where you're shooting at”. he sighed. “and this” he signals at the paper with his finger “this is my reward, i came here first, bitch”.

“who are you calling bitch?” jungwoo's left eye twitching in anger, “should i remind you who's the bitch?” he came closer towards yn grabbing the hair on the back of his head, pulling his face closer “huh?” anger laced in his tone. yn laughs, pulling his lips closer to jungwoo’s and when they're about to kiss yn’s lips ghosted the others lips and instead went straight to his ear “you're just jealous i’m not your bitch”. yn kiss jungwoo’s cheeks and left. leaving a flustered jungwoo even more angry. “cute” murmured yn.

the day passed and jungwoo still has not found the wanted guy on the poster but then something caught his attention, yn was coming out of the police station with some bags of gold coins. then both made eye contact, something that yn took advantage of to mock jungwoo. showing him the bags of coins and ripping the wanted poster in pieces.

jungwoo’s blood was boiling, how is it possible that that dumbass has collected the reward and not him. yn went to a saloon and bought a bottle of liquor to celebrate. just when he was going to taste the liquid the bottle exploded into pieces. confused he looked to the floor and then to the sides, and there he was. jungwoo with a sinister smile, he had shot his precious bottle of liquor.

“what the fuck kim jungwoo” yn sprinted towards him. “stop or i'll shoot” jungwoo aimed his pistol directly at yn's forehead but this didn't stop him, “i'm not scared to die, what about you?” yn pulls out his gun and puts it on jungwoo's forehead too. the cold metal of each other's guns pressed against their heads. veins popping in their necks and faces red, showing how angry they were…

jungwoo was back in his room. reflecting about his actions today, he almost killed the only person who has been with him since the beginning of becoming a bounty hunter. he hated yn but he also cared about him, something he would never admit in front of the other.

it was almost midnight when someone knocked at jungwoo's door. his sleepy form stood up and opened it when something fell to the floor. jungwoo turn on the lights and saw yn covered in blood. “what the- what happened?” jungwoo said concerned, something that surprised yn. “i got into a fight and they shoot me on the arm” he answered.

“you're such a dumbass, a stupid motherfucker and a pain in the ass, you know that?” jungwoo hit his head lightly, “they should've shoot you right in the middle of your forehead”. he went to his nightstand pulling out a leather bag with some first aid elements.

yn takes off his jacket and shirt so jungwoo can patch his wounds, thankfully the bullet passed the arm and is not stuck on there. “you look pretty when you're focused” yn jokingly praised. jungwoo in return pressed the wound making the other squeal in pain “shut up” he whispered.

after some back and forth whispers between them they stare at each other, lost in the moment and with their lips a few inches apart they kiss. it was their first kiss, their lips didn't touch each other even in the nights of wild sex. it was a sign that they couldn't hold it anymore. “i hate you so much” jungwoo whispered, discarding his pants and yn's.

“then… hate me more” yn replied.

the top didn't wait to impale his shaft on the bottom’s hole, it went straight in, drawing some whinings from yn’s mouth. jungwoo channeled all the hatred he had for yn into the sex session. he was rude, rough, using yn for his pleasure, not caring if he's being hurt or not… for now… “slow.. down” yn pleaded unable to match jungwoo’s pace. “shut up” jungwoo opened his mouth using his thumb and index finger to spit on it and kiss, “use that mouth for something more interesting” he introduced his fingers and then licked the saliva on it, repeating the process more times.

jungwoo pushed yn's face against the mattress using his right foot, while he made sure to keep pounding him. “you're hole is perfect for my dick. you were made to pleasure me.. learn your place” if words could kill yn would be already in hell. he just nodded, his whimpers being muffled by the mattress while tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and his eyes were rolled back. jungwoo didn't realized, until now, that yn's arm was bleeding. his roughness had opened his lover's wound, something that made him stop his thrusts, positioning yn in missionary.

yn could finally see jungwoo's face, he was crying but not for pleasure, he was sad. “what happened?” yn asked, worried about his companion. jungwoo lost for words just plop himself on top of yn, hugging him making sure to not hurt his wound more. “you're a fucking fool, you know that?” he cleared his throat, “i'm sorry” he apologized “i didn't mean to hurt you. b-but… you know how scared i was when i saw you like this” he took a deep breath trying to calm down “i-i don't like seeing you like this yn.. please take care of yourself” jungwoo finally let out his feelings for yn, “i like you. please don't get hurt. i wanna keep seeing your ugly face for a long time”.

“i… i appreciate this vulnerability moment from you but, how you manage to say that while still being rock hard inside me” yn responded, earning a soft punch from jungwoo in his chest. “you're really good at ruining special moments, dumbass” jungwoo exclaimed and yn just laughed.

“i like you too”...

the sex continued but this time it was slow, more intimate. they both felt liberated, letting go of the burden they had been carrying on their shoulders, their repressed feelings. before, sex for them was like a way to release stress, now it has become a more intimate act where they can be vulnerable and connect with each other. their happily ever after moment. yn keep kissing jungwoo, his lips were one of his favorite parts from him.

“i wanna keep seeing your pretty face too” he said.

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ POLY!MINLIX X READER HEADCANONS

𝝑𝝔 cw : bullet point format, smut under cut, sfw and nsfw sections, mommy kink (everyone act surprised), sub and dom dynamics, some sub!reader and some dom!reader, pegging, mxm action, poly!minlix, petplay, rimming, some stoned! sex, some stoner!minlix

𝝑𝝔 SFW :

oh my fuck literally the best bfs everrrr

just so so so much love??? it's almost overwhelming???

Minho is so gentle and he takes so much pride in knowing every single stupid thing about you and lixie

oh oh oh he also thinks it's so cute when you and Lix give him nicknames

AND LIX :c MY LIXIE PIXIE :cc

he gives so so so so much love just all the time

whether it's bc he's cuddling into your side at night or he's making you brownies or he's buying you cute little gifts

"oh I saw this and I thought you'd like it!" - Lix (as if the gift isn't an EXPENSIVE ass designer bag or perfume or novelty item)

oh yeah Minho buys you and Lix jewelry a lot... like gets you 3 matching sets for Christmas, birthdays, holidays, new years, anniversaries, etc.

but Minho is a simple man, he lovesssss quality time

oh yeah aquarium dates SO MANY AQUARIUM DATES???

the kitties love looking at the fish

oh oh oh and Lixie loves physical touch???

so the 3 of you are cuddling in bed and probably either playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo switch (which always gets complicated bc Felix rages everytime he gets hit by one of minho's red tortoise shells) or watching a movie (it can't be a horror movie bc lix will cry, and it can't be a movie where an animal dies bc Lix will cry, and it also can't be a detective movie bc Lix will get bored halfway through) or taking a little cat nap (Minho curses, tosses, turns, and talks in his sleep so most of the time he is waking you or lix up, but you 2 don't dare say anything bc it would make Minho feel bad)

oh oh oh and you never have to step foot in the kitchen bc mimo lovesss cooking for you :c

so much praise??? you could literally just breathe and they'd be telling you just how much they love you??? LIKE HELLO?!--

also also also they FUND your hobbies and interests

oh, you like an anime series?? Guess who bought you 5 new figurines of your favorite character just so you'll smile? Lixie did!!! it doesn't matter that it costed a ridiculous amount of money bc it made you smile and that's what matters to Lixie!!

oh, you want to visit Japan someday?? Guess who booked a flight there just bc he loves you sm?? Minho did!!!

oh oh oh they're def sharing their clothes with each other and with you

they think you look so cute in their clothes

𝝑𝝔 NSFW :

the most versatile duo ever oh my fuckkkkkk

oh yeah, two mommys... when they're dominant at least

felix is def nicer when he's dominant :c he's so sweetieful, he's brushing back your hair and kissing your forehead while Minho fingerfucks and spanks you

also also also pet play with them :c

a pair of cute kitty ears and a cute little butt plug??? maybe even a pretty little collar??? oh yeahhhhh

oh oh oh and they're just so full of love for you :c constantly worshipping you like you hung the fucking moon

ORAL FIXATIONNNNNN holy shit lix has the craziest and most insane oral fixation

he's CONSTANTLY sucking on your tits <3

oh oh oh ohhhh and Lix loves sucking on minho's fat cock <3

lix has the CUTEST little cock :c and lovesss when you and Minho take turns kissing it :3

OMG AND Lix lovesss getting pegged and getting his ass fucked by minho??? oh yeahhhhh he'd KILL FOR IT

also also also rimming with the two of them??? letting Minho sit on your face while you lap at his cute little hole?? IF I EXPLODEEE

oh oh oh and minho loves fingering you while you lay on his lap, especially if you have your kitty stuff on, oh oh oh and while lixie humps his leg??? LITERAL HEAVEN

and they're subby too ??? :c

subby Minho needs to be spoken of more bc yeah :c

after a long day of dance practice and Minho is tired and you and lix just want to help him feel better?

sit him down on the couch and let Lix ride him while you let him suck on your pretty tits <3 he'll love the two of you forever

oh oh oh and fuck minho's cute little hole while Lixie sucks on his cock?????

they're just so full of love for you and it shows <3

also SHOWER SEX!!! this is the only form of a quickie that they like is early morning shower sex

also also also wake and bake + sex??? they loveee especially on their mornings off or their days off?? they're taking turns eating your sweet cunt as the sun comes up >:3

[webslingingslasher]

trouble asking peter if they're still friends after a fight bc not only are they lovers but also best friends🥲❤️‍🩹

it's been hours since the argument. you've both talked it out, apologized and made up to each other. so why do you still feel unsettled?

'peter?'

you scoot backwards on the bed until you bump his back with yours. 'peter?' you bounce against him, you earn an unhappy whine.

'peter?'

'what?' peter's talking like he's in a library.

you barely rest against him, you're scared you'll annoy him even more with your touch. maybe you shouldn't have woken him up, you might've just dug a deeper hole for yourself.

you stay silent, he might just think you were sleeptalking. peter doesn't buy it for a second. normally he'd be totally fine with going back to sleep but he can always sense when you're upset and really need him.

'please tell me you didn't wake me up just to pretend to be asleep.'

you turn to lightly scratch his back, he hums and arches into your touch. 'it's stupid, sorry for waking you up.' peter could leave it there, but he's a damn good boyfriend.

'tell me.' he's already awake, what's the harm in a light conversation?

biting the bullet, you ask the looming question on your mind.

'are we still friends?'

peter rolls onto his back and looks up at you, your hand is nearly squished in the process. he's disoriented from sleep and you just threw him a curveball. you feel silly but it's important.

'what?' he heard you loud and clear, the randomness of the question caught him off guard.

'are we still friends?' peter relaxes into his bed, he's going right back to dreamland. 'trouble, you're my girlfriend.' that's not the answer you wanted.

'but i'm still your best friend, right?' your voice cracked with your ask, peter opens his arm for a cuddle and you stitch yourself into his side. 'of course you are,' it's solidified with a small peck at your hairline.

'even if i say mean things?' you were the reason for the fight, you jumped at peter the second he got home because he promised he'd do dishes and he didn't. it made you spew a dozen things you've been holding in and peter was caught off guard while you backed him into a corner.

you weren't nice, even when peter said he understood why you were upset. it took him softly humming as he rinsed out cups for you to realize how nasty you were. peter just let you go off on him, he told you he was sorry and he should've cleaned them before he left and he didn't forget, he just adjusted his schedule.

peter took your upset in stride and didn't bicker back. instead he agreed and told you he'd make sure to put his chores first and all it took was him humming for you to come to your senses.

you had tucked your tail between your legs and approached him, resting your forehead on his arm so you could hide the shame. 'i'm sorry.' you know there's more to add, you just needed to say it before anything else.

peter brushed off your apology, he said sorry for some things too. you both made dinner together as a patch to your argument and peter thought it ended in the kitchen but your mind is still replaying your mess up.

'you weren't mean, you were venting. it wasn't just about the dishes, it's how i started to slack off on everything because i got used to you offering. i've been a bad roommate and you called me out on it, i didn't take it as a personal attack on our relationship.'

it's true. peter wasn't used to having someone do his laundry or pick up the little messes he leaves behind and it reached a point where all he was starting to do was burden you, the dishes were just the final straw.

he doesn't hate you or resent you. but does he still like you?

'so are we still friends?' peter almost lets out a laugh but he holds it in for your sake. 'you're my best friend and my girlfriend, trouble. that's never going to change.'

'it isn't?'

'well,' peter kisses your shoulder and tightens his hold. 'until i give you a ring.' 

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

Request from @witheringpain - Could you make a headcanon of how all the autobots/decepticons would react if you died in a war (G1) ?

Will do 🫡🫡🫡

Sorry this is so late but I’ve got so much going on I’ve ended up going through my requests at a snails pace lol.

I haven't done transformers requests in 3-4 years so hello pls don't beat me up over this but here we go anyway:

Warnings: Character Death (Reader), Heavy Descriptions Of Gore And Violence, Themes Of Grieving And Depression

Autobots: (This is mostly Optimus-centred but I included most of the Autobots reactions because this first part was already too long to repeat for each separate character – I’ve also made it platonic)

Also PLEASE keep in mind that I’ve only seen short clips of G1, which is why I don’t write for them often, so the characters may seem a little OOC – if they are I apologise but it’s the best I could do

Ooooh boy, they’re not gonna like that

Let’s say you’re Optimus’s bestie (along with the other autobots ofc)

And let’s keep in mind that G1 Optimus is not as calm/ level headed as TFP Optimus and not as ‘death/kill/angry/rage’ as Bayverse Optimus

So he’s not gonna go round on the battle field murdering left right and centre

But he’s also not gonna just stand there

He’s more likely to turn towards the loud gunshot behind him and watch as your body hits the ground and take a moment

Like it’s not gonna click instantly

He probably thinks you’ve been shot in the leg and he waits a second for you to scream or writhe around in pain

But then your body lops to the side and he sees your eyes frozen wide in shock, with a gaping bullet hole still sizzling and steaming away in the middle of your forehead

And when I say it hits them all

It hits them

HARD

Optimus sort of just stumbles for a moment cuz he can feel every part of himself short-circuit

He also thought his audio receptors had stopped working

But no

It’s the battlefield

It’s dead silent

Everyone seems to have just stopped

He can’t see (cuz he literally cannot take his eyes off your body) but Prowl and Ratchet are nearest

And they’re desperate to run to him but the fact that he’s so still

Ratchet doesn’t dare go near you for a hot minute because it’s not normal for Optimus to be still for that long.

Prowl’s too busy trying to see who shot you, and eventually he spies the steaming barrel of the gun from across the field and he’s instantly seeing red

The decepticon that owns said gun doesn’t look any better

You can practically hear him from how much he’s shaking

Eventually, the dead silence is broken

“What did you do?”

It’s Megatron

He might be Optimus’s sworn enemy

But he knows when to not cross a line

As in murder Optimus’s closest friend

Megatron only murmured it since he was only frozen in place a few metres away

But it was loud enough to break whatever spell Optimus was under

Both decepticons watched in terror as Optimus’s head snapped towards them, his optics wide and glowing brighter than ever

And you know what’s even worse?

His face guard is gone

Sheathed away and full face on display

Now, let’s clarify that you, are the only person in the existence of ever, to know what he looks like under the mask

And the fact that everyone can see his full face right now shows exactly how out of control his emotions are right now

He’s heaving, he’s shaking, and there’s coolant streaming down his face because guess what cybertronians can cry

In his millions of years fighting wars, Megatron can’t recall a time he’s ever seen such despair on a bots face

Let alone on Optimus

The sounding of creaking metal brings everyone’s attention back on Optimus

And it takes a moment for everyone to realise where the noise is coming from but soon enough they watch as his servo tightens even more around his axe, the creaking noise becoming louder

And all of a sudden everyone’s like:

Oh shit

The decepticon that shot you is like

Shit shit shit shit

And Megatron accepts he’s gonna be a Con down after today because looking at the state that Prime is in he knows it’s not worth it

He looks to the Con who is pleading for help with his eyes and just shrugs

“I think you’re on your own now :)”

Megatron along with everyone else takes a step back as Optimus begins to move

He’s not running, no

Just walking

His optics not moving from the con in front of him as he strides over.

Eventually the con drops his gun with a cry and frantically runs into the woods behind him

But Optimus keeps his speed at walking pace

Which is even more terrifying

Megatron just moves aside raising his hands in surrender as he passes

Because a heaving, blank-faced, mask-less Optimus unconsciously dragging a weapon behind him is not something he wants to try and pester right now

Soon Optimus disappears into the woods after the Con

And everyone remains silent and unmoving as they listen

Pedesteps every now and again are heard from within the trees

Minutes pass and no one is yet to move, too occupied with straining their audials for a noise

Though it isn’t long until everyone flinches as a terrified shriek rips through the air, causing the birds to scatter

A string of frantic pleads of help follow

Until they are replaced with screams as loud clangs of metal on metal are heard

But soon the screams are drowned out by the clangs and soon enough the sounds of the Con are no more

But the clanging doesn’t stop

It just keeps going in a steady rhythm

Until one final loud smash reverberates through the air

And it is silent once again

Everyone else takes this as their cue

Megatron instantly transforms and takes off

And it isn’t long before the rest of the Decepticons follow, leaving the Autobots to themselves

The following silence is soon broken as Ratchet finally moves towards your body

Wiping the coolant that won’t seem to stop streaming down his face, he kneels down to scoop your lifeless form into his arms

Prowl drags himself over to you both, his pedes never feeling so heavy

With a dark solemn look on his faceplates, he stares at your corpse in the medics arms

After a moment, he slowly lifts his servo towards your face, where your face is still frozen in a terrified expression

And as gently as he can, he takes two digits and places them above your optic lids before sliding them closed

That seemed to be a tipping point for Ratchet as he broke down in heaving sobs

His frame trembling as he tried to keeps both himself and you balanced as everyone around looked at him in both surprise and pity

This is a first because Ratchet is probably the least likely to react so emotionally to death

He been witnessing it almost every day for the past few million years after all

But you were someone special

Someone he thought would be the last person to die so suddenly

Someone he thought he would have time to save, and time to grieve

But that’s what war does

It has no mercy with anyone

No matter who someone is and how special they are

And Ratchet thought he had come to terms with that idea

But the scene he gave showed everyone he hadn’t quite accepted it fully

Prowl wanted to break down too

He wanted to scream into the heavens and beyond, cursing out those who took you from them but also hoping you could hear him

A sign to show that you were still here with them

But he knew it would prove useless

And with Ratchet gone too far into his own mind

He knew it was his turn to be the level headed one

Now wasn’t the time to flip tables and punch walls

He didn’t want to show his emotional instability in front of the others

So he joined Ratchet by his side, a servo slowly soothing up and down the medic’s trembling back struts.

He noted that Optimus still hadn’t returned from the woods

But that wasn’t who he was concerned about at the moment

As if on cue, three sets of bouncing footsteps along with energised voices were heard as they got nearer

Everyone tensed at the sound, and slowly turned towards the outstretch of cliff nearby where the voices owners would soon be revealed

Prowl left Ratchet’s side after one last reassuring pat, leaving the now slightly calmer bot to cradle you

Turning the corner, he was met with two bright sets of yellow and one red

Bumblebee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had returned from their reconnaissance, playing and shoving at each other joyously after a seemingly successful mission, ready to hear what had become of the fight they missed

Though that all halted when they caught sight of a silent Prowl who was suspiciously not scolding them for returning so late

Coming to a stop, they eyed him, Sideswipe talking first:

“We just saw Megatron and his goons flying away! Did you flip enough tables to scare them off or something?”

That set the three of them into another fit of giggles

But coming to a stop again at the sight of Prowls door wings not springing up in frustration like they usually do

“Say Prowl, what’s got your tailpipe in a twist?” Sunstreaker piped up

Prowl opened his mouth, and got exactly one vowel out before going silent again. He did this several times before eventually giving up.

Ok this was different

Prowl always has something to reply with

“What happened.” Demanded Bumblebee

Despite being a joyous bot, Bumblebee knew when it was time to be serious, and Prowl being lost for words meant that only the worst could have happened

Prowl tried to reply again, but his voice box betrayed him for a second time

Without a second thought Bumblebee strode ahead, brushing aside Prowls outstretched servo and rounded the corner

At a first glance all he could see was every bot crowded around something, but when he called out they all parted to reveal something he wished he could never see

A pained cry of despair echoed throughout the forested valley, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker didn’t hesitate for a second as they sprinted around the corner to their friend with Prowl hot on their heels

The sight before them was the one thing they never wanted

Bumblebee was being held back as he tried to reach for whatever Ratchet had in his arms, howling and crying out as he stretched his arm as far as he could

The two bots rushed to try and help the others in restraining him, but both stumbled in shock as they caught sight of your lifeless corpse

Soon the bots had to be divided as they wrestled the three young bots that were wailing in anguish for their friend

Bumblebee had given up at this point, his head on Prowls shoulder as he stared at you with a glazed unmoving expression

The twins were worse off, crying and screaming in everyone’s faces until their voice boxes gave out, demanding what had happened and why they weren’t able to save you, why Ratchet wasn’t able to save you, but all the bots and the medic could do was look down to not make any further eye contact.

Not long after the screaming match another set of footsteps were heard getting nearer, and a hush fell over everyone, including the twins after pleas from the others, as they all stared at the silhouette emerging from the foliage

As the bot moved into the sunlight, everyone’s optics widened at the sight

Optimus had returned, but he was barely recognisable

Well

You could still tell it was him

But his paintjob was almost unidentifiable

Blue and red peeked through the streaks and smears of pink and magenta, the energon from the unlucky con splattered all over his frame

The worst parts were on his axe and up his arms, his paintjob covered almost entirely with energon still dripping from those areas along with chunks of metal that slowly slid down his frame, looking suspiciously similar to the con’s paintjob

The most horrifying part, though, was his axe

Which looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie

Through the energon and bits of metal that covered the blades, one half seemed to have bent, the blade curving in a way that would fit a cybertronians head shape after hitting it with the force of a mountain

Which is probably what happened

It’s also probably what made that extra load bang at the end

But no one really cared about that

They were too busy trying to figure out what Optimus would do next

Which was a bit difficult considering he was just standing there not saying a word and just staring ahead into the distance

A beat passed before shuffling was heard and Bumblebee broke away from Prowls embrace and rushed towards the Prime

Despite everyone wanting to stop him, they were too scared of going near Optimus at this point

Reaching Optimus, Bumblebee threw himself around him, not caring about the height difference

This seemed to bring Prime out of his trance, half lidded optics looking down at the smaller bot

Though it wasn’t long before Optimus gently pried Bumblebee’s servos away, holding them in his own

The bots watched albeit tense as the taller bot stared down at his smaller companion

All it took was for Bee to look up whilst blinking back tears of coolant for Optimus to drop his axe with a clang and scoop him into his arms, their helms buried into each other’s neck cables, and Bumblebee’s sobbing started up again

After a minute, they pulled away from each other, and Bee tried to say something through the hiccupping of his voice box, but the Prime stopped him with a servo on his shoulder and a small smile that was far from reaching his optics

Which everyone could see since he had yet to re-engage his mask

But they made sure not to bring it up

Soon Optimus was back on his pedes and picking up his axe, gently leading Bumblebee back to the group

Reaching Ratchet, he placed a servo on his shoulder

“Let’s get them back to the ship old friend."

Decepticons: (This one’s a bit shorter I’m afraid – I struggled with coming up with anything for anyone else so this is more headcanon-y)

Warnings: Character Death (AKA YOU), Heavy Descriptions of Gore, Themes of Grieving and Depression.

Now with the decepticons it can be a little different

Depending on what kind of relationship you’ve formed and with who

The Autobots are all tight knit in some way

Whereas with the cons

You could’ve been working with them for eons

But if you’re just another soldier that has been recruited

Then those higher up aren’t gonna bat an optic

They might notice your posts being replaced

But that’s it

However

If you’re higher ranking and have formed some type of relationship with them

Then things are going to go down differently

Soundwave would be inconsolable for a while

The only ones allowed near him were his minicons

Who would scuttle out his berthroom to grab some energon for their robodad, before quickly disappearing back into the dark room

He wouldn’t come out until Megatron demanded entry

And the minocons along with a few others would wait around the corner in the corridor

Tying to get within earshot but failing nonetheless

Megatron then walked out, not bothering with the troops who scattered as soon as he appeared

It would be another day before Soundwave would emerge

But he wouldn’t answer anyone about how he was

He simply got on with his tasks as he did before

Overworking so much that he would have to be dragged to recharge

Life would resume as normal

But during his weekly spying sessions through the security cameras

Starscream would note the pauses the quiet con would take

Each time in the exact same spot

Standing in front of the doors to the comms room where you had worked

Staring in as if he was looking for you to spring out on him

But you never did

Speaking of Starscream

It’s a bit of a 50/50 with him

You could be any rank

And considering how desperate he is to overthrow Megatron and lead the Decepticons

There’s a chance that he could be so obsessed and caught up in his scheming

That he just doesn’t have the spare time to get to know you or basically care about you in any way

But if we went with the other half

And you were someone he had befriended and roped into his overthrowing plans

Then your death would throw him off track big time

It would take him forever to comprehend the fact that the one con he could trust properly on his ship was in pieces that were now drifting somewhere through space

To the other cons he was just being himself after your death

So just annoying

Complaining how he now had to figure out how to achieve the tasks he had set you for universal dominance as well as his own

But the heaving sobs and wails that echoed through the ships corridors late at night said otherwise

Ravage made the unlucky mistake of walking in on Starscream as he curled up underneath his desk

Though not much time was spent inside as Ravage high tailed it out of there, narrowly dodging something being thrown as the seeker screamed for them to get out

Skywarp and Thundercracker had a hard time as well

Feeling the immense grief flowing through the bond of their trine mate’s spark as they watched him brush you off as just another accomplice in front of everyone else

Now

Onto boss man

Megatron would practically explode

He would be throwing himself into every battle and every autobot he can get his servos on

The one commander, apart from soundwave, he could trust with his life

Gone

In a puff of smoke

Well..

More like an explosion

AKA you were blasted to smithereens before he could pull you free from the collapsing power reactor

He would be frozen in place, your decapitated servo still grasped in his own

Bits of wiring and armour plating surrounding him on the floor

Along with the pink flames of your energon that had ignited as it hit the burning debris

He doesn’t quite remember what happened next

All he could recall were flashes of the bodies of other autobots as he tore them apart

And he found himself sat in the medbay, glaring unfocused at the metal floor

And now, in his berth room eons later, he still finds himself staring at the floor

Feeling as useless as the glass case that sat upon his shelf

Where a single servo laid, refusing to rust

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Thank you so much for reading! I will reopen requests at some point, but for now, I'll be posting what I've already written. See you soon!

Do not repost

[floralpascal]

Could You?

Summary: Having survived your bullet wound, you and Ghost both face the consequences of your deepening relationship as Ghost grapples with the impact of almost losing you. (Set right after the events of Nightmare)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: reader was hit by a bullet, medical talk, canon-level violence, talk of death, secret relationship, mentions of smut, some hurt/comfort

A/N: Thanks to everyone who requested this chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

Ghost knew pain. He could handle the bite of the feeling, no matter how intense or prolonged. He had never hit a breaking point from it. 

But guilt? It cut deeper than normal pain. Guilt was a nebulous feeling - an affliction of the psyche that was impossible to stop and damn near inescapable. It gnawed at him from the inside out, like a poison running in his veins. It haunted his every thought and even found him in sleep. The pain of guilt was damn near unbearable. 

Two weeks. You had been in the hospital for two goddamn weeks. For a while, it had been touch-and-go, your situation fluctuating from dire to stable to dire again as the doctors worked to repair the damage from your gunshot wound. A few days after the incident, they had put you in a medically-induced coma. 

Ghost picked at the peeled plastic leather on the armrest of his chair. He scratched his nail under the dried edge of the plastic and pulled, snapping another bit of it off before flicking the flake to the floor absentmindedly. Then, he began the process again with a new section of the material. As the days had worn on, he had slowly torn a gaping hole into the covering. Each day, the hole in the armrest grew wider, just as the hole in his chest did. 

You laid in the bed in front of his chair, tubes and wires crisscrossing over your body. Your face held none of the defining characteristics of sleep that he had come to know. Instead of peaceful, you looked distressed, your eyebrows now pinched even in sleep. A shade of gray now clung to you, almost as if you were sick. 

“Simon.” 

Ghost looked to the door of your room, following the deep, gravelly voice to a disgruntled Price. He stood in the doorway, his eyes trained on Ghost. He wore simple camouflage fatigues, a change from the last time Ghost had seen him in your hospital room. Ghost also noticed that Price had trimmed his beard since then, as well. 

How long ago had that been? 

“I told you to get out of here,” Price grumbled.

“‘n I told you I’m fine.”

Price let out a huff of air before he moved closer. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Price looked tired and solemn. He eyed the flakes strewn around the hard linoleum at Ghost’s feet. “Why’re you here? Why’re you doin’ this to yourself?”

Ghost leaned back in his chair, eyes falling back to where you laid. He couldn’t hold Price’s gaze anymore. Price was a quick, calculating man and Ghost was sure that it wouldn’t take more than a few missteps on his part to guess exactly why this really hit Ghost so hard. With the mask and his usual stoic demeanor, he already had a guard against the Captain’s incredible gift for reading people. But Price had adapted, learning instead to read Ghost only by his eyes. 

Lying wouldn’t do. Price would see straight through him if he did. He’d have to give him the truth, just not the entire truth. “This happened on my watch. This is on me, Cap.”

It felt like only yesterday that Ghost had been sitting in a hospital bed just like yours warning you not to get hurt on his watch. Not when you were putting yourself on the line for him. It was a bit of sick irony now that you laid in this bed after taking a bullet for him - irony he wasn’t fond of at all. 

He couldn’t tell Price that you had been in Ghost’s bed only a few nights before that mission. That Ghost had fucked you slowly then, his forehead pressed to yours as he unraveled you. It was the most intimate he had ever been with you. Usually when you fucked, it was hard and fast. Feelings were there, only covered by rough desperation, but this was different. It had been something soft and vulnerable, something that was more than just sex. A wall had broken between the two of you, one that had held you both back from admitting that this was an actual relationship. 

Ghost had long stopped ignoring the fact that he had strong feelings for you, but now he was finding that those feelings had no discernible bottom. The deeper he fell for you, the deeper those feelings ran.

Maybe if Price knew all that, he would understand. But Price couldn’t know. If he did, he would be obligated to report that his Lieutenant had started a relationship with his Sergeant, a subordinate. The fallout would be disastrous. 

“You were watchin’ each other’s six,” Price asserted, his voice even and insistent. Ghost could tell that he was trying to be the voice of reason for him, a role the Captain played well. Even if Price didn’t know exactly why, he could see that what happened to you was eating Ghost alive. “You both did your jobs. Sometimes shit happens and good people get hurt.”

Ghost shook his head. “I’m her superior, my job is to keep her safe. It’s the same thing with the others - Soap and Gaz. I should’a been better than that.”

Ghost had replayed that moment in his mind a million times over. If only he would’ve been better, then maybe he would’ve noticed the gunman’s hiding spot or reacted quicker to take him down. If Ghost had just been better, you might have never gotten hurt.

Price sighed, scratching at the side of his beard as he turned his eyes to you. “Shit like this is never easy when you’re in charge, Simon. You know as well as I do that blamin’ yourself is a dangerous game to play. The only thing you can do is learn from it ‘n move on. I know you two are close but tha’s no reason to sit here torturin’ yourself.”

Ghost bit back a scornful chuckle. If only Price knew how close you truly were. If only he knew that seeing you like this made him feel like the armrest of the chair he sat in - slowly being picked apart piece by piece. 

“Styx is gonna pull through. Go get some rest,” Price said resolutely. 

“Sir-”

“Tha’s an order, Lieutenant,” Price barked. “Out.” Reluctantly, Ghost stood and walked towards the door. As he passed him by the doorway, Price called over his shoulder, “You saved her life. She’s gonna live because of you. Focus on that.”

That was easier said than done. As Ghost pushed out of the room and down the bustling hallway, dodging doctors and nurses as he went, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had only saved your life because you had put yourself in danger for him again. 

It was his job to protect you - both his actual job and his job as the person you were in a relationship with. But he’d failed, and it was you who paid the price. 

It should’ve been him. At least then he would have some peace knowing that you were okay. He could take the pain if only it meant that he would take the pain away from you. 

As he made his way to his temporary room on this unfamiliar base, he could hear your voice in his head chastising him, could see the way your head ticked to the side as you challenged him like you had so many times before. It was a conversation he had with you on more than one occasion. 

“Oh, really?” you questioned, sarcasm lacing your voice. Your head had laid on Ghost’s pillow, only a few months prior, facing him in his bed. “So you can stick your neck out for me, but I can’t do it for you?”

“Precisely.” Ghost’s hand had slid up and down your bare side - the side that would later take the bullet that was meant for him. Irony was a cruel thing in retrospect.

You had narrowed your eyebrows at him, dropping your teasing tone as you leveled your serious gaze. “That’s bullshit, Simon, and you know it.”

At that, he had leaned forward and pushed his mask up above his mouth before he brought his lips to your neck. He pressed the plush of his lips to the sensitive spot at the curve of your neck - the spot he knew would drive you wild. A gasp escaped you as you tilted your head to bare more of your skin to him, your body slowly arching into his touch. 

“You can always stick your neck out for me like this, love,” he whispered against your skin before lightly nipping his teeth at the flesh there. 

An obstinate huff escaped you. 

“Oh, fuck you,” you countered, but your words had held no venom, your voice light with growing lust. It was more a concession to his caress than a genuine jab. 

“You already did that, Styx,” he had teased before rolling you over top of him so that your bare thighs straddled his large hips. Excitement flashed in your eyes as you smirked down at him, your face only inches away from his own. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear as he added, “But you can do it again if you really want to…”

Ghost opened the door to his room, trying desperately to shake the memory from his mind. To shake you from his mind. 

The room was plain and minimalistic. Gray walls, a cement floor, a small closet, a small wooden table, and a rickety single bed that could barely hold his mass were all that the small room contained. For years, accommodations like this seemed like staying in a five-star hotel. Hell, in the field, he considered a clean sleeping bag on the hard ground to be impressive. Although this guest room looked like every other quarters on every base he’d ever been on, it still felt colder somehow. More empty. 

Ghost ripped off his boots before collapsing onto the green bed, the springs groaning under his weight.

What if this relationship with you was a bad idea? Ghost and you had already broken a list of rules a kilometer long, enough to have both of your jobs if anyone ever found out. He would do everything in his power to keep you away from the fallout if it ever did come out. But that wasn’t the issue for him right now. What if this relationship with you was putting you in danger? What if it was compromising the both of you?

You had both swore to each other that you wouldn’t let this affect your work. Even though you had risked your life for him once even before your relationship started, he worried that you had taken that bullet for him because of your relationship with him. Had you done what you swore you wouldn’t?

Ghost had felt the moment he broke his promise: the second you went down, the mission meant nothing anymore. All that mattered was getting you to safety. He had been compromised, let his feelings for you rule him. It was the first crack in his armor, the once-perfect soldier finally slipping. The worst part was that, given the chance, he wouldn’t change a damn thing about how he reacted. He would do it all again. 

There were reasons for the rules that prohibited his relationship with you, just as there were consequences. A dark voice in the back of his mind said that it was his fault. He let this relationship start - let the both of you fall into this knowing damn well how you both felt. He had let the two of you compromise yourselves. As a result, you now laid in a hospital bed desperately holding onto life and he was going out of his mind. 

Just fucking sleep. He just needed to fucking sleep. 

~~~

Ghost found no solace when his eyes closed. He found you there, too. He was lost in the space between sleep and consciousness, a restless and aching plane of existence. He couldn’t tell whether the images he saw were dreams or memories or some odd mixture of both. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His eyes snapped open, his consciousness yanked back to the dark, cold room. It was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out what had woken him.

Someone banged on Ghost’s door again, the knocks hard and fast. 

“Ghost.” It was Soap’s voice that came from the other side of the door, though it held none of his usual energy. It was too somber. “The doctors woke Styx an hour ago.”

Ghost sat up and quickly pulled on his boots again. When Ghost opened the metal door, he found Soap poised to knock again, his fist raised before he froze. Soap relaxed then, dropping his hand to his side. 

“They’re lettin’ visitors in now. I thought you’d wanna know,” Soap told him, his voice low. He appraised Ghost with solemn eyes, his mouth drawn tight in apprehension. It was a rare look for the young soldier. 

Ghost offered him a, “Thanks, Johnny.”

He pushed past Soap, heading swiftly towards the hospital wing of the base. Soap ran to catch up, his boots smacking into the concrete hallway floor, falling in stride with Ghost. 

Soap was quiet until the pair entered the hospital section of the base, the distinctly sterile aroma making Ghost feel sick. 

“LT…” Soap drew cautiously as they traversed the packed hallway. “What happened to her?”

“What d’ya think, Johnny? She got fuckin’ shot.”

Soap rolled his eyes, dodging a nurse that dashed between them as she headed towards some unknown emergency. “Yeah, I know that. I mean, how’d it happen? You haven’t said a word about it to anyone but Price.”

Ghost simply shook his head. 

“C’mon,” Soap pushed, “what happened out there?”

Ghost stopped right outside of the closed gray door to your room. He had known Soap long enough to know that he would keep asking until he got an answer. He might as well pull the band-aid off now. “I had my back turned, a guy jumped out, she shot him, and took the bullet that was meant for me.”

Soap’s face dropped, some of the pieces of why Ghost had kept this quiet finally clicking into place. He tapped the fist of his right hand against the palm of his left hand nervously. The only thing he said was, “Oh…”

“Yeah.” Ghost gazed at your door.

“Well, at least you both made it out of there, yeah?”

Ghost grumbled, “Barely.”

“Ghost,” Soap chided, clearly catching Ghost’s irritation that you’d risked your life for him again, “you’d do the same thing for her. I know you would.”

“Tha’s got nothin’ to do with this.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure if it had been you who’d been shot instead of Styx, I’d be standing here having this same conversation with her. The two of you are more similar than either of you will admit.”

Ghost let out a long huff. 

“Just go easy on her,” Soap urged. “I’ll be waitin’ out here. Might call Gaz and tell him she’s awake. Then I’ll go in to see her after you.” He clapped a reassuring hand on Ghost’s shoulder as he passed by him to go sit in the waiting room. 

Ghost turned back toward your door, a knot forming in his stomach. All he had wanted for weeks was to see you awake, but now, the thought of facing you was paralyzing. 

Ignoring his apprehension, he grabbed the cold door handle and turned, slowly peering into your room. Price stood beside your bed, still clad in the same fatigues he had been in earlier, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened intently to you. 

You. You were reclined back on the bed, your hair wild from the weeks spent asleep. Your face showed the weight of what you had endured, eyes tired from the physical strain your body had been under. But you looked alive again. Some of the gray had begun to dissipate from your skin, your normal glow beginning to return. 

Hearing the door open, you and Price both turned your heads to Ghost, your conversation cut short. Whatever you were going to say died on your lips the moment you saw him. When your eyes met his, he felt like he could finally breathe again. 

You were alive.

Price cleared his throat before resting a hand on your shoulder. “We can finish this conversation later. I’m happy to have you back, kid.”

You nodded at Price, your eyes not straying away from Ghost for long. Ghost could barely tear his eyes away from you either. 

Price strode across the room, giving Ghost a pointed look before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. 

It was quiet for a long moment as the two of you simply took each other in from opposite sides of the room. While you were asleep, there had been so much he wanted to say to you, but now every word was lost. 

You looked relieved to see him, eyes wide like a doe. 

“Ghost…” Your voice was hoarse, almost painfully so. Ghost moved forward to the side of your bed, as if somehow he could fix it, could take away some of the pain. “Price said you were here,” you croaked. “And that he had to kick you out.”

He nodded. He had been by your side for weeks, had seen you almost every day, and yet hearing you talk to him made it sink in that you were really here. You were really alive. 

“He said you were gonna rip that chair to pieces if he let you stay.” You ticked your head toward the chair Ghost had occupied for days. You chuckled a little, but the movement made your whole body tense up, your face screwing in pain. You let out a hiss, your breaths going ragged. 

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” you claimed, but your voice was only a mock impression of being okay. Pain still drew your lips into a hard line as you pressed them together. It was the same thing you had done when you got shot, almost like a reflex: I’m fine. The memory burned his insides like acid. 

“No, you’re bloody not,” he retorted. 

You huffed out a long breath as you laid your head back on the inclined bed, your eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. You knew exactly where he was going, exactly what was going through his head. You warned, “Ghost…”

“Why?” He asked, voice calm but strained. “Why did you step in front of me?”

You shook your head, your gaze dropping to meet his once again. “Why? You know damn well why.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You think it was even a choice? If it was me, would you even have to think twice about stepping in front of me?”

Ghost huffed indignantly, looking at the ceiling. 

“That’s what I thought,” you said lightly. 

“Maybe tha’s the problem,” Ghost growled. You quirked a confused eyebrow at him before he continued. “We said we wouldn’t let this - us - affect our work. This was never supposed to be-”

He cut himself off, frustration marring every fiber of his being as he turned away from you. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Relief and pain battled inside of him, the combination enough to tear him apart. It was too much.

The silence hung over the two of you for a long time, the only noise in the small room being the steady, fast beep of your heart monitor. Each beep was a reminder of why this was a terrible idea. It was a reminder of what he had to lose, a reminder of what could be ripped away from him at any moment. He squeezed his eyes closed, his hand coming to grasp the back of the abandoned, torn chair to ground himself. 

He never meant to let you this close to him. He never meant to care like this. 

“Do you think you could go back?” you asked, your voice steady and hoarse. He knew you well enough to know what you sounded like when you were covering up how you truly felt, though. It was too calm, too measured. “Simon, I mean it. Could you go back to the way things were between us before? Because if so, just do it now while I’m hopped up on painkillers. Make it easy for me.”

He could end it now - tell you that it was over like he should have a long time ago. But the damage was already done. Even if things ended with you now, he would never be able to stop the way he felt for you nor stop it from influencing him. He would always care more than he was supposed to. He had already gone so long without you - been on the verge of losing you for weeks - and it was about to rip him to shreds. How could he ever choose to let you go?

With his back still turned, Ghost countered your question with his own. No matter how you answered, he wasn’t sure he could take the sting of it. “Could you?”

Your response was immediate and unwavering. “No.”

Your admission hung in the air, the revelation an indictment of his own choice. 

Then, Ghost said your name. Your real name - the name he almost never used. It dripped from his lips, the weight of it a confession of equal measure. 

He wasn’t strong enough to let go of you.

When he turned around to face you, your eyes were wide. He saw a small flash of relief cross your face, the medicine you were on surely hindering your ability to hide it. A small, weak smile slowly drew at the edge of your lips. “I like the way you say it.”

Ghost walked to the edge of your bed then, the plastic creaking under his added weight as he came to sit on the edge of it with his body twisted to face you. He dropped his bare hand to lightly run his fingers along the back of yours, being mindful of the wires and tubes attached to you. You caught his intention immediately, turning your hand to slowly slip into his grasp. It was quiet for a long time while he ran his thumb back and forth over your skin. Somehow the gesture was more intimate than any night spent tangled with you in bed.

“What do we do now?” you whispered, your head tilting at him. 

Simon met your gaze. Your eyes were heavy, the physical strain you were under taking its toll. 

“You’re gonna get some rest,” he commanded. “Get your strength back. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

You nodded before squeezing your eyes shut. “Think I’m gonna need some more meds soon. This headache is terrible.”

He leaned over you and plucked the remote with the “Call Nurse” button on it from the other side of the bed. Untangling your hand from his, he placed the remote in your grasp.

“You might wanna get out of here before that nurse with the bun comes back,” you warned, your tone light. “I think she hates you for what you did to that chair.”

He rolled his eyes. That nurse had shot him a nasty glare each time she had come to check in on you in the last few weeks. “Trust me, I noticed.”

Simon stood then, his eyes flitting to the still-closed door of your room. In one swift motion, he turned, bent over your bed, pushed his balaclava over his nose, and lightly brought his lips to yours. You froze in surprise for a moment before you melted into the kiss, your lips chapped but insistent.

He had wondered if he would ever get to feel this again. To feel you, the way you ran through his veins like a wildfire. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. It was a reminder of everything he almost lost and everything he still stood to lose.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispered, his lips still brushing yours with each word.

You didn’t answer. He knew you couldn’t; he wouldn’t like the answer. Instead, you simply brought your cold hand to the exposed flesh of his chin. The feeling sent a shiver down his spine, but it wasn’t because of the cold. 

It was you. Just you.

[chvoswxtch]

Girl I have been silently reading and praising your stuff from my sisters account. Like liking all you stuff for safekeeping. The whole thing crashed and now I am trying to do the whole interacting thing. I am so embarrassed and scared that my idea is shit so this I am anonymous. But listen - I check your blog every day for updates. I luv u.

Okay my request is a bit messy. But like an angsty/fluf fic with Frank and a woman who is like small but indestructible - you know like a super power or x-gene thing. You cant see any wounds on her body they´ll just heal or something. And all she wants to do is protect Frank and he is just not having it.

If this is shit and not duable I get it! And if I missed somebody writing something simular please share the link - I would love it! Rant over...sorry...and thank you <34567

hi nonnie!

firstly, welcome. there's no need to hide in the shadows, or to apologize or feel embarrassed or any of that. i'm happy you're here and felt comfortable sharing your idea with me! I actually got a somewhat similar request, so I ended up combining the two to get the best of both worlds :)

also if you're into frank x powered reader, I highly recommend @grippingbeskar! she has an entire completed series called salt, ice, and fire that is phenomenal that I can't gush about enough

I hope you enjoy!

warning: swearing, mentions of guns & blood word count: 1.4k

bulletproof.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck are you doin’?”

Frank’s thick brows were angrily bunched up in the middle of his forehead, a trail of crimson slowly leaking from the cut that covered the bridge of his freshly broken nose. His jaw was harshly set and he scowled deeply at you while switching out the cartridge on his rifle by muscle memory, not even having to look down.

“I told you-“

“No, I told you to take the goddamn stairs to the roof while I took out-

“I had it under control, Frank!”

Frank scoffed and let out an exasperated puff of air through his lips while shaking his head and gesturing towards you loosely with his free hand.

“Under control my ass, look at you. If you had fuckin’ listened to me, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ right now.”

Frank’s voice had risen in volume, and the timbre of it carried through the empty space between the two of you with a subtle growl. He might have been pissed at you, but you were fucking furious with him. You’d lost count of how many times the two of you fought about the exact same fucking thing over and over, and you weren’t arguing about it with him anymore. 

The heavy sound of approaching footsteps and yells caught Frank’s attention, but as he began to march towards the open loading dock of the abandoned warehouse with purpose and a raging vendetta burning in his eyes, the metal shutter door suddenly came barreling down with a wave of your hand. It collided with the concrete floor, a loud thud echoing around the space, not only preventing Frank from getting out, but anyone else from getting in.

Frank instantly paused, snapping his head to look over his shoulder at you with an expression of pure annoyance covering his sharp features. Your eye color had shifted to an incandescent shade, glimmering like two deep red rubies caught in the sunlight. There was still a flickering scarlet glow around your right hand as you kept the door shut, and Frank could tell by the look on your face that you were incensed by his behavior, but he refused to back down anymore than you did.

Grabbing the hem of your top with your left hand, you hastily lifted it upwards just as one of the bullet holes above your right hip began to close up and heal. Frank’s narrowed gaze dropped downwards to watch, and his features softened just a sliver, only to harden once again when he looked back into your illuminated eyes. 

“I can heal, Frank. You can’t. So when I tell you I have something under control, that doesn’t mean you fucking jump in front of me guns blazing. That bulletproof vest can’t protect you from everything, and I swear to whatever God you believe in, if you pull that shit again and get yourself killed, I will find a way to raise you from the dead just to kill you myself.”

Frank didn’t visibly react to your words, even as your voice rose in a hysterical volume and filled the empty space surrounding you both. Any other person might have been fucking terrified to be alone with a woman that had glowing red eyes and could trap them somewhere with her mind. Then again, anyone else probably also would’ve been scared shitless to be alone in a room with the Punisher himself. 

But Frank wasn’t afraid of you, just like you weren’t afraid of him. You both knew what the other was, and you loved each other anyway.

That was the root cause of your recurring argument. Frank wanted to protect you, and you wanted to protect him. Despite him knowing about your abilities, he still felt responsible for you. He didn’t like seeing you get hurt, even if it did heal. He didn’t want anything to happen to you if he could prevent it.

Letting his rifle drop by his side, Frank let out a deep exhale through his broken nose, his eyes wandering over your figure slowly before meeting your gaze.

“You know how much I hate seein’ you get hurt, baby. You know what it does to me.”

The sudden change in his voice to a softer and more sincere tone had your eyes shifting back to their natural color, and your previous anger began to instantly cool. You did know. If someone so much as bumped into you on accident, Frank was ready to tear them to shreds. He had always been extremely overprotective of you, and knowing his traumatic past, you couldn’t blame him, or stay upset with him for very long.

Letting out a soft sigh of your own, you ran one of your hands through your hair before taking a few steps towards him, your heeled boots echoing along the cement floors. Despite the three inches of height they gave you, Frank still towered over you completely. The size difference between the two of you was nearly comical, especially considering he was the “big and scary” one.

But you were the little witch that had a nasty temper.

“You think I enjoy seeing you get hurt? I’m the one who has to fix you up, remember?”

Neither one of you paid any mind to the incessant banging on the shutter door, or the sound of ricocheting bullets and yelling coming from the other side. When you brought your hands up to gently grab Frank’s face, he leaned down to nuzzle into your palms and instantly melted into your touch, his attention solely focused on you.

“I know.”

Brushing your thumb lightly along the violet bruise that began to bloom on his right cheekbone, you took in the cut along the bridge of his nose and frowned softly with a sigh.

“Your nose is broken again.”

“Ain’t the first, won’t be the last.”

“Can I try something?”

Frank arched one of his thick brows in question, glancing over his shoulder momentarily at the shutter door before looking at you again.

“Right now?”

“You have somewhere to be?”

Rolling his eyes, Frank let out a soft chuckle and gave a slight nod of his head.

“Alright. S’pose they ain’t gettin’ in no time soon.”

A proud smirk was all you offered in return to his comment. Taking a deep breath, you removed your right hand from his face and let your index finger hover over his wounded nose. Focusing intently, your hand was once again glowing, and you traced a crimson line in the air from the top to the bottom of his nose. All of a sudden, the cut on the bridge of his nose sealed up, and the indigo patches that had blossomed around it vanished.

Frank blinked a few times in dumbfoundment, wiggling his large nose and glancing down at it in a mixture of confusion and awe. Your own eyes widened in surprise, and your mouth hung open in shock before your lips parted into a wide grin. Frank looked at you, his features twisted up in wonder and puzzlement.

“Holy shit. How the hell did you do that?”

“I…I don’t know. I just…wanted to see if I could, and…focused really hard. I can’t believe it actually worked!”

Frank stared down at you incredulously when you said that.

“The hell you mean you can’t believe it actually worked? You didn’t know it would? What if you had given me a tail or somethin’? Or put my ass where my nose was?”

“Oh, well then I could never kiss you again.”

Frank actually looked offended by that, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression while you gently patted his shoulder and stepped around him to face the shutter door, brushing your hair off your shoulders.

“Alright big guy, let’s wrap this up. I’m starving, and there’s a Gilmore Girls marathon waiting with our name on it.”

Frank’s plush lips pursed in an adorable pout as he cocked his rifle and aimed towards the shutter door, keeping his narrowed gaze locked on you.

“You and I are gonna have a serious talk ‘bout this magic shit when we get home.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[spnjediavenger]

It Won't Last Forever (Chapter 1)

Title: It Won’t Last Forever (Chapter 1)

Type: multi-chapter; father!Hotch x teen!daughter!reader, some bau x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: canon-typical Criminal Minds sadness and/or violence, blood, light injury description

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: panic attack description, flashbacks, alludes to PTSD, family death

Spoilers: S5 SPOILERS

Notes: I changed the end of the episode a bit. Sorrynotsorry.

The panic attack and PTSD description is a mix of my own experience and some I read online - this is not how ALL panic attacks and PTSD are experienced.

Y/n/n is a general nickname, N/n is going to be a nickname only Spencer uses for Y/n

Information creds at the end; I took some info verbatim to use in some of Spencer’s info dumps

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 3,169

“Sometimes the loudest cries for help are silent.” Harlan Coben

The scene the team walked into wasn’t quite what they expected it would be. Hell, it wasn't what Hotch expected it would be. Not in the end anyway. He expected the blood on the floor. Even on the walls. But he thought he would walk in and find Foyet and be part of the final fight. What he didn’t expect was to find his daughter slightly beaten standing in the bedroom with a gun in her hands and Foyet dead on the floor - a bullet hole dead center in his forehead. 

Hotch quickly went to check that Jack was ok and send him out of the house with JJ before coming back to see his daughter. 

Y//n heard his movement and spun on her heel, gun pointed at him, eyes wild and body shaking.

“Y/n, honey, it’s me. It’s dad,” he said, holding his hands up in a calming manner. 

“Daddy?” she whispered shakily, body still trembling. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now. I need you to drop the gun, honey.” Hotch had tears running down his face from grief and he couldn’t hide that right now. But he also needed to talk Y/n down, who was clearly in shock. 

The girl’s eyes flicked down to the weapon in her hands and she began to shake more. She looked back up at her dad. “I worked the case, too. I… I had to… I couldn’t let him hurt Jack too…” she trailed off as she turned her head to the ground and saw her mother’s lifeless body laying there. 

“I know, honey. It’s ok. But I need you to drop the gun now, ok? It’s all over.”

She looked down at the gun again, to Foyet’s body, then her dad and finally dropped the gun. Hotch was quick to kick it away and pull his daughter into his arms, glad she was safe. Her arms stayed at her sides and she stared straight ahead into the hallway. Hotch pulled back and tried to look into her eyes but they were devoid of anything. He called Morgan back into the room and asked him to take Y/n outside to have her looked at and informed him that she was in shock. Hotch walked over to Haley’s body and Morgan put an arm around Y/n’s shoulders to lead her to the ambulance outside. 

Each member of the team watched her, ready to offer comfort and condolences but Y/n just stared empty ahead. They looked at each other, concerned, but chalked it up to her being in shock. Some might think this day would be the eye of the storm. But the storm was just getting started. 

Hotch did his best to be there for his kids through losing Haley while not neglecting his own feelings and need to cope. Jack was so young that he didn’t fully understand what was going on; Y/n, though, should have been showing signs of coping. Or even just feeling. But she didn’t. For a teenager who just lost her mother, she was surprisingly calm. Hotch hadn’t seen her cry once since her death. And frankly, he was concerned. He tried approaching her and getting her to talk but she just kept telling him she was fine. She put on a happier façade around Jack but Hotch could see right through it. The rest of his team, when they would visit, noticed too. They were all worried. 

One Saturday, Hotch had to go into work. Jack was over at a friend’s house and would be sleeping over so that would leave Y/n by herself. 

He stopped by her room and tapped his knuckles on her door. A very quiet ‘come in’ sounded and he opened the door to find the girl sitting in the window seat staring outside, arms hugging her knees to her chest. 

“Hey, sweetheart. The team and I have to go into work. Do you want to come with me? Say hi to everyone? They all miss you. Might be a good idea to get out of the house for a bit with Jack at his friend’s,” he suggested.

Y/n let out a sigh through her nose and reluctantly nodded. She grabbed a hoodie and her mini backpack. Hotch held an arm out and she let him wrap it around her shoulders and lead her to the car. 

The ride to the BAU was quiet and uncomfortable. Well, it was uncomfortable for Hotch anyway. He spared glances at Y/n as she stared blankly out the window as they drove, no emotion to her features. 

As they entered the bullpen, all eyes looked up and smiles appeared on everyone’s faces. 

“Heeey! What’s happening Y/n/n?” Morgan said, getting up and opening his arms for a hug. Y/n returned the hug to a bare minimum and remained quiet. 

“Hey, how’s it going Y/n?” Emily was next, rocking her a bit as they hugged. The girl shrugged and let Spencer hug her next. 

“I think I found the perfect book for you to read next,” he said. Y/n forced a half smile and nodded. 

JJ came up next but decided against saying anything, noticing her reactions, or rather, lack thereof. 

“Oh my goodness gracious did I hear that baby Hotchner is here?!” Penelope’s voice rang through the room. She ran over and practically crushed Y/n in her arms. “Why did no one tell me our favorite Hotchner was coming?! Oh uh, no offense, sir,” she added, looking at her boss. 

He gave a small, humored smile. “Non taken.”

Penelope looked back to Y/n and frowned. “Oh my sweetness. What’s going on? Talk to Auntie Penny.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, then turned to her dad. “I’m gonna go to your office.”

“Alright, sweetheart.”

The team watched as she ascended the stairs, accepting a hug from Rossi as he came out of his own office, and shut herself in her dad’s. 

Morgan looked over to Hotch as Rossi came down. “She still isn’t saying anything?”

Hotch shook his head. 

“Have you tried taking her to therapy?” Rossi asked.

“She won’t even talk to me, Dave. Why would she talk to a stranger?”

“Because it’s not you. You should know that sometimes it’s hardest to open up to those you’re closest to.”

Hotch sighed. “I don’t think she’d take to the idea. She won’t even admit to anything being wrong.”

“Could she still be in shock?” Morgan offered.

“This far away from the trauma? It’s been a couple weeks - is that common?” JJ asked. 

“Typically, emotional shock lasts for minutes to days, but can last for weeks to months depending on the severity of the trauma. And considering there are multiple sources of trauma for Y/n that her mind is pulling from it’s actually not surprising that she’s still experiencing symptoms,” Reid came in with an info dump. 

“As much as I’m worried about Y/n, I’d like to get this case out of the way,” Hotch said, trying to change the subject. The others nodded slightly solemnly and got to work. 

A few hours into the visit, Y/n left her dad’s office to grab a snack. She passed the round table room and heard snippets of the team talking. 

“He may have the same mask but this man is nothing like Foyet.”

Y/n froze and almost tripped over her feet. Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head to try and clear it. 

The movement caught Morgan’s attention and he tapped Hotch to stop his mention of Foyet. 

“You ok, kid?” Morgan called out to her. 

Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n nodded. “Yeah, fine,” she said, and continued walking. The team shared looks but continued their work. 

Y/n bounced down the steps to the break room. She grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water and went to get a snack from one of the cabinets but the door was stuck. She groaned and gave a harder tug. With a bit too much momentum, the door flew open and the corner caught her under her eye. She gasped and dropped the glass, causing it to shatter on the ground. This caught the team’s attention from upstairs. 

The sting under her eye sent her back two weeks and suddenly Foyet was in front of her. 

“You weren’t the one I was figuring on fighting. But I’ll take it,” he smirked, punching her again. She fell to the ground, hands getting cut on the glass under her. But she didn’t notice. 

She kicked his knee, sending him to the ground with her. He grabbed his leg and she had the chance to get up. 

“Y/n.” That wasn’t Foyet’s voice. 

She grabbed the gun that had fallen out of her hands and pointed it at Foyet. He grabbed her legs and pulled them from under her. She gasped as her head hit the ground. 

Hotch tried grabbing Y/n’s flailing limbs to keep her from injuring herself further. He was trying to get through to her and get her to open her eyes but it was like she didn’t hear him. 

Y/n kicked her legs at him and landed one in the face. She took the moment to stand once more and shoot him square in the forehead. 

“Y/n!”

Y/n sucked in a deep breath as her eyes opened and she saw her father in front of her, his familiar grip on her wrists. 

“Daddy?” she whispered. Her body was shaking. 

Hotch swallowed the sob his body wanted to release at the familiarity of these events. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now.”

Y/n glanced around the room to remind herself where she was and saw blood on the ground. 

Haley’s body lay on the floor, blood seeping through her clothes from multiple gunshot wounds. She let out a broken gasp and moved away.

She jerked and tried to back away but Hotch kept his grip on her. She began hyperventilating. 

“Y/n, honey, everything is fine. That’s your blood, you cut your hands. You’re at the BAU.” He tried to keep his tone light but he was desperate to help his little girl. He didn’t know what to do.

“Hotch, maybe let me try?” Spencer spoke up. 

“She’s my daughter,” he defended. 

“Aaron, she needs someone who’s level-headed right now,” Rossi said. “Let the kid help.”

Hotch gave Spencer an apologetic look and nodded. Spencer hobbled over and carefully knelt down to Y/n’s level. 

“N/n, it’s Spencer,” he said gently. “I need you to look at me; can you do that, sweetheart?”

Y/n’s ears picked up on ‘N/n.’ Only one person ever called her that. Her wild eyes looked around until they landed on the youngest member of the BAU team. 

“Spencer,” she gasped, still hyperventilating. 

He smiled a bit. “That’s it. I need you to try and breathe for me ok? You’re having a panic attack. Can I help you move away from the glass?”

The girl nodded and Spencer guided her away and into a chair that Rossi had pulled out for her.

“Good job. Now, follow my breathing ok? Breath in for four, hold for four, let out for four.”

The girl nodded but as soon as she tried to take a deep breath, a sob came out making her practically choke on it. Hotch held a hand over his mouth and turned away, unable to stand seeing his daughter like this. 

Spencer rubbed Y/n’s back soothingly as she coughed. 

“Alright, that’s ok. Put your head between your knees instead. Putting your head below your heart will increase blood circulation to your brain and keep you from getting dizzy or passing-“

“Reid,” Morgan interrupted him, afraid his info dump would make things worse. 

“No,” Y/n whimpered. “Keep talking.” Listening to Reid talk was actually helping and giving her something else to focus on.

The boy nodded and kept guiding her actions as he continued talking, keeping a gentle tone instead of the usual teacher-like one his info dumps typically sported. “Morgan, grab some ice,” he said over his shoulder then turned back to Y/n. “Panic attacks are common for a number of psychological illnesses and can be connected to trauma. There are different types of attacks and I’m assuming this is situational-induced attack; these occur as a response to something specific and expected. They can happen in anticipation of a trigger or immediately after exposure to it. Triggers from traumatic events are quite common. Thanks, Morgan. Here, hold this. One way to stop panic attacks, especially when steadying your breathing is difficult, is to stimulate the senses. This works to interrupt the automatic reactions to the panic attack to snap the body out of the symptoms. Smelling something strong or holding ice are common methods and usually the most helpful. And one of the most important things to remember,” he added as he saw she finally began to relax, “is that while panic attacks may feel like they are never-ending, they usually peak within 10 minutes. It won’t last forever.”

“It won’t last forever,” she whispered after him. 

Spencer nodded and pushed some hair out of her face when she looked up. “It won’t last forever. You did great, N/n.”

The girl gave a small smile. It was the first real one Hotch had seen since before Haley died. He let out a relieved sigh and Rossi squeezed his shoulder. 

Spencer glanced at Hotch and looked back at Y/n. “Can you let your dad clean your hands and eye up, Y/n? Those need to be taken care of.”

The girl nodded and Spencer smiled and kissed her head as he stood to walk away. Hotch put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. A silent ‘thank you.’ Spencer patted Hotch’s shoulder and left the room. 

Y/n’s eyes drooped a bit as tiredness overtook her. The panic attack had drained a lot of her energy. Hotch let her sit in silence as he tended to her wounds, not missing the flinch when he first touched her eye. But he wouldn’t bring it up now. He now knew he couldn’t wait for her to be comfortable talking but he would at least wait until she had more energy.

After wrapping her hands and cleaning her eye, Hotch took Y/n home. The team was just about done for the day anyway and the others told him that Y/n was his main priority right now. He thanked them and left.

It was around dinner time when they arrived home so Hotch suggested Y/n get changed into some comfy clothes and take a nap while he ordered takeout. She wordlessly nodded and went to her room. Hotch sighed and grabbed his phone to get working on dinner.

When the food came, Hotch and Y/n ate in silence save for the TV in the background. Y/n seemed to be a little less tired but Hotch could tell she had a lot of things running through her mind. 

Once they finished eating and the dishes were taken care of, Hotch approached Y/n before she could retreat to her room.

“Honey? Can we talk please?”

Y/n looked at her father and saw hope in his eyes. But almost in a pleading way. She weighed her options in her head but soon gave a resigned sigh and nodded. She took her dad’s outstretched hand and let him lead her to the couch. Y/n hugged her legs to her chest and Hotch brought a leg up so he could face her.

“Y/n…you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to…I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But sweetheart, you have to let something out. Anything. I was going to let things go until you weren’t in shock but after today I don’t feel comfortable considering that luxury anymore. We’ve all been through a lot and you’re no exception. Keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy. As much as I hate to see you upset, it’s worried me that you haven’t cried once. Please just tell me something, honey. No one can help you if you don’t let us in.”

As Hotch talked, Y/n could feel the slightest sting begin behind her eyes. In all honesty - she was worried about her lack of emotion too. But she didn’t have it in her to say anything about it. It took too much energy.

She let out another sigh and looked down at her hands. “I haven’t said anything the past two weeks because I haven’t felt anything the past two weeks,” she said quietly. “It’s like my mind was a void. I put on a happy face for Jack because I know he needs me. But the rest of the time I just couldn’t be bothered. But today…”

Hotch watched her as her voice drifted off. “What happened today?” he asked gently.

Y/n took a shaky breath. “I heard someone say his name and I froze. I don’t know why. But I couldn’t move for a second. Then in the break room the stupid cabinet was stuck then it hit my eye when I tried jerking it open and all of a sudden I was back there. He was in front of me. It was like I was living it all over again.” At this point, her voice started shaking and tears were glossing over her eyes. “He had punched me when I threatened him and that’s what I think brought it on. It was in the same place the door hit. I could hear you calling my name sometimes but it sounded far away. But I saw everything again and I…I felt. I think it happened too fast the first time and my brain couldn’t catch up, b-but this time…this time it could.” She turned her red eyes up to her father’s, which were also beginning to redden. “I-I shot him, dad. I killed someone. And mom-” a cry escaped her lips and Hotch wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.

Ugly sobs forced their way out of Y/n’s lips as she clung to her father for dear life. Her fingers dug into his shoulders but right now he couldn’t care less.

“I couldn’t save her, daddy! I tried!”

Hotch started crying harder at seeing Y/n breaking down. “I know- I know you did, sweetheart. It’s ok. It wasn’t your job to. It’s not your fault.”

Y/n buried her face into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears and snot. They both wrapped their arms around each other tighter and cried. Hotch held her head with one hand while the other remained on her back, rubbing up and down. 

Nothing else was said. Right now, nothing else needed to be said. The Hotchner family had each other’s backs. They had a long road ahead of them, but they would get through it. Together.

Misty Copeland once said: “Be strong, be fearless, be beautiful. And believe that anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you.”

(Chapter 2) ->

Creds: how-to-stop-a-panic-attack-5202930

anxiety-101-how-stop-panic-attacks-their-tracks

[ravennaortiz]

Request

Ohh can you pretty please do a juice one with prompts 17 & 41?? And maybe a little angsty and smutty? Please & thank you!

Prompts

17. I love you

41. How did you get that brusie?

A little angsty and smut for our sweet baby boy Juice? I sure can do that! As Always my stories are 18+. TW: DV,Infidelity

Requested by @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog

Love Rising

Juice isn't sure why he said it. Too be fair he hadn't realized he had spoken those three words out loud. It wasn't until he realized you had frozen, still hovering over his face that he realized he had uttered them. The silence was some how so loud. His grip on your entwined hands tightened, wanting to keep you from running. He was kicking himself mentally for being so stupid. Neither of you were in a position where this could be public.

Your heart was pounding not just from the orgasms Juices skilled mouth had pulled from you but also his words. The implication that what had been quickies and sneaking around had turned into much more. You couldn't deny you too had fallen for him as well. "I love you too" you whispered as you leaned forward pressing your lips to his. Your kiss was cut short by your phone going off. You both glanced at the clock knowing it was Chibs letting you know your old man was on his way home.

*Later that Night*

"How did you get that bruise?" asked Jax glaring at your inner thigh as his fingers traced the darkened area of skin.

"I don't know. You know how clumsy I am" you replied carefully with a small laugh. Jax simply nodded before moving back over you, his mouth finding yours.

You tried not to flinch at his touch. He repulsed you and the relationship between you two had been dead for awhile due to his inability to keep it in his pants. If it had legs, a warm hole and somewhat breathed you could guarantee your Old man had been inside it at least once. Not that you had much room to judge after what you had been doing with Juice.

Jax had been suspicious you were stepping out when you refused him in bed months ago. Little did he know you hadn't yet but him setting his intelligence officer on you had been all the fuel you needed to do so.

You had been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't realized Jax had stopped kissing your neck. The fury in his eyes told you that Juice hadn't been as careful earlier as he thought. "You fucking whore" growled Jax as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

***

"Are you okay?" inquired Juice as he knelt next to where you sat on your bed, gun still in your trembling hand. "Is he dead?" you asked your eyes still on Juice but far away. You had no idea how long you and Jax had been fighting for before you had grabbed his gun off the nightstand and blindly fired.

Juice glanced over to Chibs who nodded. "Don't think you missed a single shot Lassie" murmured Chibs as he looked over Jax's bullet hole riddled body. "I'll get this taken care of. Take her home and get her cleaned up and in bed" stated Chibs as he pulled his phone out to start making calls.

Once Chibs was out of the room you chuckled softly. "Guess we don't have to hide anymore" you whispered as Juice grinned and kissed your forehead.

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[savannahsdeath]

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

♯infection

mdni please<3

summary: youre on a patrol with ellie🏌️

warnings: 18+!! blood, weapons, angst

writers note: it is very very bad but its sitting in my drafts for months so why not post it .. also the pic fits the story sm🥰🥰(me when i lie)

You and Ellie were patrolling together for a long time now, it was a part of your rutine.

Today wasn't different - you were exploring an abandoned house with your friend near.

Everything was going smoothly. Ellie kept a lookout while you searched for supplies, trying not to make a sound, while she did the same. You were both on edge, and you felt jumpy at every little noise. You were both quiet, careful, as to not alert any infected or scavengers that might have been hiding out in the house.

But then, everything changed. A noise, distant at first, quickly grew louder. You and Ellie exchanged nervous glances as the sound of shuffling footsteps grew closer. You had no time to think, the infected were already nearby and you didn't have a chance to react before one was on top of you.

The infected grabbed you, and before you could do anything, Ellie came out of her hiding and struck with her knife, slashing your opponent.

You grabbed the shotgun off the ground and fired at another one, the noise drawing the attention of most of the infected in the vicinity. You knew sound attracts them, but you were too surprised to defend yourself manually.

The infected recoiled instantly as your buckshot connected with it's chest. It's body hit the floor and lay motionless, smoke rising from the bullet hole.

You quickly aimed the shotgun at the other infected, which started to charge towards you. You waited for it to close the distance, and when it was within range, you pulled the trigger. The second bullet hit the infected square in the forehead, and it collapsed down.

You fired again, hitting another infected in the side with a shotgun blast. It stumbled back, wounded, as Ellie quickly finished it off with a brutal stab to the head with her switchblade. The sound of more footsteps drew your attention, and sure enough, more infected were coming. They must have heard the gunshot and were coming to investigate.

"What do we do?" Ellie asked, frantically looking for a way out. You didn't have much time to think or act.

You only managed to look around and mumble three simple words; "Run and hide."

Without any hesitation, you and Ellie ran as fast as you could, ducking and weaving between walls and furniture to try and lose the infected. As you ran, you could hear the shuffling footsteps following behind you and the infected growling at each other. You ran through another door and hid, quickly whispering to Ellie to remain completely silent.

The infected came through the door, and you could hear them grunting and listen carefully, trying to locate you. After what felt like an eternity, they left, and you began to relax.

You stayed put for a while, taking the opportunity to catch your breath. Ellie was still tense, the adrenaline from the encounter still coursing through her veins. She looked at you and you could tell she wanted to say something, but was afraid the slightest movement would give you away to the infected outside.

After a few minutes, you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps getting fainter and fainter, until they were completely gone. You were in the clear.

"Are you okay?" Ellie finally asked, her voice as quiet as a whisper.

You managed to nod, the fear and adrenaline still lingering. You noticed she was holding her arm, and it took a moment to realize that there was blood on the sleeve of her shirt.

"You're hurt!" You exclaimed.

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with concern. "It's nothing." She said, trying to hide any pain or discomfort.

"Nonsense." You replied. "Let me take a look."

You gently lifted her sleeve up to examine the injury.

You saw that there was a nasty-looking cut on Ellie's arm, the blood slowly oozing out. She looked uncomfortable, but remained still. It was clear that she didn't want to make the situation worse by causing a fuss, but it also didn't seem like something minor.

"It looks pretty bad." You said, gently dabbing at the wound with a cloth. "We should get this bandaged as soon as possible."

Ellie winced as you put pressure on the wound, and you could see that the pain was growing worse as she tried to keep herself composed.

"Hey, hey... it's going to be okay." you said, trying to be as calming as possible. Ellie looked up at you, relief and gratitude in her eyes. You could tell this was stressing her out.

"Don't worry," you continued. "I'll have this bandaged up in no time." You took some materials and quickly patched up the wound, cleaning it and wrapping it tightly to restrict the bleeding.

Ellie looked relieved, "Thank you." she said. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"I don't plan on going anywhere." You smiled and looked around. "They're probably still near, we should wait some more time."

You kept looking around, trying to make sure there were no unexpected surprises around the corners. As you were keeping watch, you looked over at Ellie, who was observing you. There was a certain warmth and comfort in the way she was looking at you. It was a subtle gesture, but the feeling it invoked was anything but subtle. You got a strange sense that Ellie was feeling vulnerable, but was trying to hide it.

"What's that?" She pointed at blood on your sleeve, clearly worried.

You looked down at your messy shirt. "It must get dirty while I was patching you up." You smiled. "I'm fine."

Some time passed, you were joking with Ellie, hoping to distract her from the pain. It was safe for you to exit this building now but none of you even thought about it. It was quiet and you finally got to spend time with your crush friend alone, without other patrolling residents.

You looked at Ellie, who was looking at you too, with a level of concern and tenderness that hit you like a ton of bricks. She didn't know what was happening to you, but you knew that telling her would only make things more painful.

You hesitated but decided to be truthful with her, she was smart enough to figure things out on her own otherwise.

"Ellie..." you began. "There's something I need to tell you."

Ellie looked at you, concern etched on her face. She could probably tell by your tone alone there was something wrong.

You took a deep breath and continued. "One of them... must bit me— I didn't even notice at first too... I was— fuck, you know, a lot going on..."

Ellie's face twisted into one of shock and despair as she took in the information. She tried to process it all, but seemed to be stuck in denial.

"Are you- are you sure?" She asked, her voice faint.

You simply showed her your wound, not wanting to say it out loud. You knew it would be hard for her to accept, but you had to be honest with her.

"This can't be..." Ellie whispered, her face blank.

"I know." You said.

Ellie remained silent, it almost seemed like she was expecting some miracle to happen and for the infection to disappear.

"It's real." You tried to convince her. "and... irreversible. I'm not immune like you, I already feel, you know— not well."

Ellie continued to look at you with blank eyes, unable to process the severity of the situation. She was still in denial, hoping against hope you were wrong. But you weren't, and you knew the truth soon had to come.

You stuttered, trying to find the right words. "We don't have much time."

She looked at you, the weight of everything setting in on her. Fear, sadness, anger, frustration, all swirled in her eyes as she desperately tried to think of a solution. She knew there was no escape, but she couldn't accept that.

"We... We have to do something." She said, the desperation clear in her voice. "We can't just..."

"Ellie," you said, cutting her off. "We've been fighting for every second of our lives, hoping for survival against impossible odds. There's nothing more we can do... I- I don't want to turn, and I think you don't want me to either. There's one thing we can do." You handed her your gun, failing to hold back tears. "Shoot me, now, while I'm still a... human."

Ellie looked at the gun in her hand, frozen in shock. She couldn't believe what you were saying, and you could tell she was trying her best not to believe it herself. She was afraid, but knew in the back of her mind that you were right.

You tried to sound as comforting as possible. "I can't live with the knowledge that I'll end up hurting someone else, that I'll be just like... them."

Ellie looked at you once more, the water in her eyes slowly streaming down her face.

"I know what I'm asking for isn't easy but... I know you're strong." You wiped her tears off and without pulling your hands off of her cheeks you kissed her. "I love you. I regret not telling you earlier- and I probably shouldn't now. I just... couldn't die, taking this secret with me. But that's the best last words I could think of. I love you, Ellie." You took a step away, motioning her to do it.

You could tell she was struggling to keep her emotions in check, and was still trying to hold on to hope. But she knew, just as much as you did, that this was the best moment you two could ever have together. That this was it for you two.

"I love you too." She simply said, her voice quivering.

With that, she aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. As time slowed to a crawl, you let out one final breath as the bullet ripped through your head and you finally fell to the ground, knowing that you were safe from the fate of the infected. The sun faded away and your vision slowly faded to black, the last thing you saw was Ellie's face, tears streaming down her face.

You weren't afraid of death, after all that you've seen, all that you had fought and lived through. No, you had no fear. There was only one thing on your mind.

"I love you, Ellie.

I love you too."

[4kimji]

pair: assassin!mingyu x assassin!afab!reader

summary: you run into your rival during a mission

warnings: not reread, soft!dom gyu, unprotected sex, praise (female receiving), pet names (baby, darling), big dick! gyu, reader is obsessed with mingyu’s muscles, and more that i prob missed

wc: 1.1k

You set up the Snow Owl in front of yourself on its little stand. The supposed “club” was spacious, balconies decorating both sides of the dark, lush brown walls. People were dressed up in their finest attire, holding drinks that were half drunk while chatting their faces off.

The loud voice in your earpiece startles you, “Y/L/N, do you have the target?”, they ask.

“Not yet, Y/F/N. Still trying to acquire him.”, the assassin replies.

“Alright, get him soon. Be safe.”, your teammate coos, making kissy noises in the earpiece after finishing her sentence. You rolls her eyes but soon smiles once your teammate disconnects. She was so odd, but that’s Y/F/N for you. You put your eye into the white rifle. Your bangs were long, yes, but that never stopped you. You crouch down to get the best view of the attendees. You search for a while before seeing the last person you wanted to see. Shit. Why is he here? You internally facepalms yourself, seeing the black, long haired man. You knew he was given the same mission, so why don’t you work with him? The reason? The reward. 1 billion won. All of yourself. Who wouldn’t want that? Though, he was handsome. His long, veiny fingers holding a small shot glass. His left hand was near his waist. He was also looking for his target.

“Kim Mingyu, you asshole.”, you snicker. You move your small rifle peephole towards the door and there he was. Park Jaesung, the sick, money laundering motherfucker that you had to kill. You smirk and start to pull the trigger, knowing all that money was yours. Until, a loud shot rings in your ears. Fuck! You move your whole head out of your gun and see Mingyu with his gun out. You pack up your sniper skillfully before jogging down the stairs. You take a few steps closer to see the CEO lying on the ground. You could see the blood forming a huge pool around his head, the big bullet hole pierced through his forehead. The 6’2 man starts chuckling behind you. You didn’t even have to look back to see who it was.

“Well well, Y/L/N. If you want a loan, just ask.”, he whispers in your ear while placing his big hands around your waist, moving his hands up and down. You turn around to see the fucker who just stole your kill. You could act like you hate him all you want, but seriously, his looks were no joke. You wanted to suckerpunch him so bad, but at the same time, kiss the smirk off of his face. By this time, the space they were in was empty due to everybody running to get to safety.

“Lucky for you, Kim. I don’t need any loans from you.”, you cheekily answer. And there it was. The smile that made you melt every time she saw it. He leans in so close that your noses are basically touching. If you never had her high heels on right now, you wouldn’t even be half of Mingyu’s height. You extend your body a little more before connecting your lips with the man in front of you. You set both of your hands on his face, your thumbs rubbing his cheeks softly while his hands stay on your waist. When you let go from the kiss, a line of saliva connects from Mingyu’s pink, soft, and plump lips. You run your hands down his chest, feeling his hard rock abs through his shirt.

“So, my place?”, he asks.

When You get to Mingyu’s house, he lifts you up bridal style and lays you down softly on his bed. You cup his face and lock your lips with his. Both of your tongues moved together in harmony. He smirks into the kiss when you start palming his cock. It felt like the ocean was forming in your panties after you felt how hard he was. Just for you. You were supposed to hate him. He’s literally your rival. Mingyu breaks you out of your trance when he starts mumbling about how badly he’d been waiting for this. He starts leaving wet kisses and love bites down your neck and across your breasts. You unbuckle his belt with little to no struggle. The sight of his thick, girthy cock made you even more horny than you were before. You felt the room’s cold air fall onto your clit, realizing that Mingyu had ripped off your panties. Mingyu grips the base of his cock, while slipping it into you with no struggle, your wetness acting as lube. His big member was stretching your walls deliciously, causing you to let out a strained moan. You've been waiting so long for this particular moment, so why not take it? You push the stronger man down onto the soft pillows and straddle his lap. Your hand nudges into his biceps as you settle down onto his length.

“Ah shit, you’re so fucking tight.”, Mingyu moans. You can only whimper in response, losing yourself in the pleasure. Mingyu’s big hands land onto your ass, guiding you as you bounce on him with all your might. You look down at Mingyu, seeing his eyes roll all the way back.

“G-gyu, fuck me harder, please?”, you innocently ask. Mingyu breaks out of his pleasure bubble and finds his hands moving up to your waist, laying you down on your back. Your hands automatically move to his shoulder blades, digging into the skin. Mingyu starts thrusting quickly into you, trying to find his release. You feel your legs, wrapped around his waist, go numb. You want to last as long as you can, but the way Mingyu was fucking you, there was no way you would.

“Mingyu, fuck, I’m so close.”, you cry out. Your hands were long gone from his shoulders, now found tangling his long, black hair.

“I’m close too, baby. Just wait for me a little.”, the man replies. You lock eyes then soon lock lips. You can tell Mingyu is on the edge when his thrusts start to stutter. Your stomach feels like it’s burning, the euphoria of his cock affecting you in every way. Mingyu lets go of your lips, hearing your moans, knowing your orgasm is right there.

“Fuck!”, you drag out. Your eyes are shut close, and your cunt clenches around Mingyu’s dick, wanting to milk all of the cum out of him.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Cumming only on my cock, yeah? For me?”, The rope in Mingyu’s stomach is broken also, his white liquid filling you up. His body slumps next to you, hands still hugging your waist as if it was a handbag. Your eyes flutter open, diverting your first gaze to the sweaty man next to you.

“So… what does this mean for us?”, Mingyu asks. You shrug while burying your face in his chest.

“Let’s not worry about that.”, you giggle.

a/n: um hey... this is my first post LMAO it's not that good imo. if you like it, please like and reblog it takes 2 seconds ! :)))))))

[icyowl]

You find out Vash is a plant

Pairing: Vash the Stampede x reader

Request: none

Synopsis: you find out Vash is a plant and suddenly all the heartache begins to make sense

A/N: There are a lot of transitions in this. Please let me know if its super confusing, but yeah, I had an idea that needed to stretch its legs.

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

“So. I guess this explains a lot, then.” You said. Like any perfectly sane, positively normal person, you did, in fact, expect the unconscious man laying on the cot in front of you to reply. Maybe he would? Who knew what he could or couldn't do, now that you knew he wasn't a human. An independent plant as the older lady — Luida — had called him. Now, with you left alone in the room with Vash to digest what had happened on the Humpback, it began to make sense. Lack of food or hunger, legendary marksmanship, sublime strength from such a nimble frame, the ability to seemingly dodge bullets. . . maybe it also explained the more complicated interactions between the two of you. The tension, the escapes, the excuses—

“But it doesn't.” You bit out. He had kissed you first all those weeks ago after nearly getting himself killed. Desire was hot in your blood when you collided bodily into him after finding the idiot unscathed apart from bruises and scrapes. It had been hours since he had disappeared with a throng of vigilantes on his hide to keep you safe; his heaving chest, the grime on the bridge of his nose, a too-casual comment about you being safe now — you wanted to dive under the coat until no one could tell you two apart. You didn't, though. You controlled the hormones for his sake and comfortability. He was the one to grabbed you by the chin as only some lusting lover would and hauled you over to his mouth.

“You kissed me, Vash, and then you go and say. . .”

“Wait.” He had spoken after you had just begun to sink into the moment and take his insufferable sunglasses off. His grip was sure, firm, when he stopped you. The pause where he held you pinned beneath his gaze made it seem like he didn't know what to say. Seconds passed. His eyes searched your features for an answer to your questions and confusion. Somewhere, he found it. “They might have followed me back. I should make another lap.”

Lap around what? The impatience he'd just had to get to you, touch you, be on you, had been swallowed back behind his eyes. Pitifully, you did what you could to protest: “Wait, your wounds—”

“I'll be back in an hour. It's late, get some sleep.”

So you figured he considered the kiss a mistake — a moment of ferocity after the tension of near-death — and you backed off. Shorter conversations, less time in the same room, some of your own sad excuses in an attempt to create space, quash the giddy crush already rooted deep behind your heart. You tried to be an adult and move on like a big girl.

“I come to the conclusion,” you said to the sleeping man on the cot, god, you still felt the adoration for him deep in your marrow, “that you're not interested, right? Because you said nothing when I pushed you away. You did nothing. Okay. Fine. Then when I had an infection from the bullet hole you fished out of my arm, and those raiders held the entire town hostage for two days until you stormed in, and they killed that mom's newborn baby right in front of me, and we got chased out and I still had the baby's blood on my face and the infection was getting worse and we didn't think I'd make it through the night.”

You breathed to get the overwhelming feelings in check. “You wiped my tears, you kissed my forehead, you rocked me to sleep, you told me you loved me. I guess that could be, like, a platonic love, but come on! You can't blame me for reading into it!”

Despite you increased volume there was no sign Vash had stirred. The connection he had made with the plant must have really taken a toll.

“So at this point, I'm thinking you're interested, right? We've held hands a few times at this point, gone on, like, what I consider dates and stuff. Great. You're done being wishy-washy and you've decided to try this thing out. We go slow, I figured you're just a little nervous, but we're making out, and I make sure to leave your sunglasses alone this time, and then. . .”

Your lips buzzed faintly at the memory. Who knew what led to the tension this time, you couldn't remember, but you'd never forget the gentle care he took with you. Something about messing with his sunglasses was a trigger, so you left them alone and figured you'd just work with the rims pushing against your cheeks. He was showing you a caressing kind of affection that worked you open from the inside out. You wanted to give him everything. Every fear, every trauma, every blemish. He, too, seemed to let himself give into the raw feelings quickly bubbling up. His grip on you got tighter and pulled you closer. The kisses grew faster and their strength forced you to lean back. You could feel his abdominals quiver where you fisted his shirt.

His warm, wet tongue reached out and moved along your bottom lip, causing the faintest sound to break from your throat. Just like that, the moment shattered. Vash grabbed your shoulders and held you at arms length. He kept his face obscured, ducked down and away, but you could hear the quiet gasping as he struggled to catch his breath. You called to him only to be interrupted: “Have to - feed the tomas.”

He had made for the door without sparing you a single glance and he shut it just as quickly. You waited, processed the moment and your thoughts, maybe yelled or cried or punched something. He didn't return until the next morning, breakfast in hand and fake smile plastered too-clearly on his lying face.

Shifting bedding caught your attention. Vash moved a little in bed, bringing you back to the present. You didn't realize your hands were clenched tightly into fists.

“So by this point, I'm like, really confused. You let the kiss last that long, you go for the tongue, then push me away. Like, fool me once, but fool me twice? At this point, as I hope you can understand, I'm pissed. If I were meaner, I'd punch you in the stomach right now and wake you up. Then, last week, you're all protective when you have no right to be. Why you got mad, I still have no idea.”

Frankly, he had every right to get mad. No good, low life, dirty pricks had cornered you on the way back to Vash and co. after an errand run. If their sleezy gazes and crude humor didn't get their intentions across, the invading hands and the guy who tripped you and got over top of you definitely made things clear. Your scream was blocked by a hand over your mouth and nose, the thrashing was futile, and when your fear began to lock up every joint and muscle you had, the tables began to drastically turn. Vash's stark golden hair and whipping crimson coat brought such a powerful sense of relief to you that you nearly fell limp. Until the real fun began.

Vash didn't speak, or shout, no, he growled. Roared even. He used his cybernetic hand to punch and throw and strangle. Gone was the gentle pacifist you'd grown familiar with, replaced instead with a creature so potent with rage he'd become unrecognizable. The perpetrator was lifted up by the front of his shirt and smashed unceremoniously into the concrete building. He gagged when the cool nickel of the a gun barrel was forced into his mouth without hesitation.

It took you and Wolfwood using every ounce of strength — pulling on his arm, shoulder, coat, anywhere you could reach — to wake him up. Even then, it was only when Vash descended from his savagery upon hearing your cries that he let the guy go. For his part, Vash did seem ashamed to have done it after the fact, but Wolfwood was still sure to give him a lashing.

“What would you have done if you'd actually killed him? Huh?! Answer me!” He'd said, cigarette dangerously close to falling from his teeth.

“I wasn't going to shoot—”

“With the look you had, I'm not so sure! Look, I don't care what you do or don't do to get some action, but the next time you get caught up in your emotions, I'll be putting a gun in your mouth.”

You tried to get Vash's eye after the exchange, but he opted for averted gazes and brooding silence. Wolfwood made you think: did Vash get like that because of you? Your first instinct was scoff, think back on all the times he rejected your advances or backpedaled his own, but you had to admit, he had a talent for reading people. There was also the incident just a few days ago, after you'd been unconscious for more than a day following a nasty run-in with bounty hunters. Getting thrown off a cliff would do that to you.

Vash was gone when you'd come to. Meryl had send him away to bathe and rest while she took watch over you. She tried to keep you, she really did, but the near-death experience put fire in your veins; you weren't going to risk dying anymore without getting answers from him.

His door was unlocked when you threw it open. All spice and vinegar, you exploded into his room, intent on unloading every ounce of angst and confusion he'd caused you, only to freeze solid.

You noticed the minefield of marks on his back just as you took note of the pristine muscles underneath them. They flexed and rolled when he turned to you, locked up when he saw who it was. He bounded for you just as you stepped towards him. You'd only intended to pull him close, assure him you didn't care how he looked, enjoy a moment in life spent with him, but again, he was the one touch his lips to yours. Mmmm, maybe touch was the wrong word.

His teeth clanged off yours with the force of his advance. You didn't mind. You didn't have much of a mind with the way he grabbed onto a hip and pulled you impossibly closer to his body.

With difficulty, Vash contained himself enough to get a few words in. “You're okay - mhm - you're okay. Let me just - get a shirt, so you don't have to—”

“You thought I cared about scars, Vash? Oh god, I wanna see you, wanna feel you—”

At least, you figured his reaction meant his past rejections had been because he didn't want to show you his body. Foolish. One of your thumbs caressing an old knife wound on his abs and he began to put space between you. Like an idiot, you fought back. You called to him, pleaded, tried to fight the arms pushing you rapidly towards the door. What had you done wrong? What did you do to deserve this? Why was he doing this to you? You asked him all of it and got smokey replies in exchange.

“I just - I can't - not right now - just, you didn't do anything wrong. Please, I'm glad you're okay, but go—”

Wood slats and metal bolts slammed shut on you, knocking against your nose. It was like it shut out your emotions, too. All you could do was stare numbly, unmoving, at the wear marks and hatching staring you down when it should have been his eyes. A wave of desperation crested under your muscles. BAM. The door shook with the power of your fist. It stung now. It would throb later. You didn't bother to care.

“Coward!” You cried.

Vash's lonely sigh could be heard from the other side. You didn't move, knowing you'd sleep outside his room, ambush him whenever he decided to emerge, if it meant you could get him to answer for the thorns piercing your chest.

“I know I am.” He said, words warbled by the door but still distinguishable. “I am a coward. I'm hurting you and its the last thing I want.”

“Then. . . why?” You weeped.

“I'm not. . . I'm not what you need.”

“Is this because you think you're not good enough? Vash, you're the kindest, most compassionate person on the face of this planet. I want you. I want you.”

“You don't know that.” He cut in.

Your anger returned fearsomely. Didn't know? You didn't know what you wanted? This prick — this stupid, beautiful, arrogant prick, thought he could decide what as best for you after all the shit he caused. Intelligence: insulted. Feelings: disregarded. Autonomy: stripped. Trust: obliterated. He'd brought you in, pushed you out, then had the audacity to make it your fault for getting angry. Fuck, maybe he really was a walking calamity.

“You don't know me. Maybe you would have, but you don't. You won't, either.”

A quiet snore from the man sleeping in front of you broke through the memories. After what happened with the Humpback, Livio, the Bad Lads, and the plasma cannon, you didn't have the same coursing fury as you had just the other night. After seeing him with the plant, after seeing what he was, after learning so much. . . you were at a bit of a loss.

“I get it now.” You said to the empty air. “You don't want to be with me. Lust, hormones, they made you slip up, but you'll wake up, push me away, pretend it never happened, because I'm a human, right? Something like you would never want to be with something like me.”

The emotions took hold of your throat until it was hard to breathe and clawed at your eyes until they watered and you had to shut them tight to keep from having a complete meltdown. Near-death experience? Check. Unrequited love? Check. Felling the simultaneous crush of insecurity and self-loathing because you feel both inadequate for the man you're in love with and too stupid to have seen it sooner or looked out for your own emotional health before it was too late? Triple check.

Synthetic fingers pulled at your clenched fist to try and get your muscles to relax, to stop your fingernails from making painful divots in your beautiful skin. “I'll always want you.” Vash said.

You looked into his eyes taking you in with a soft affection you refused to acknowledge. No. Not again. He wouldn't lure you into a trap so easily this time. Seconds passed as you grew more mortified with the situation. Was he awake the entire time?

“How much of that. . .”

“I think I really started listening when you mentioned platonic love.”

Though it was a joke, the thumb casually brushing over your knuckles brought you back to the seriousness of the moment. You jerked you hand away hastily.

“You'll always want me? Stop kidding yourself. If you had an ounce of respect for me, you'd care about my opinions. You wouldn't push me away, string me along, put up this fake persona and act like everything's okay when you've hurt the person you say you care about.”

You stood to leave only for his flesh-hand to reach across to secure your wrist. “It's not because you're human, it's because I'm not.” When you turned back, surprised and mute, he continued. “I know I've been horrible to you, I know I don't deserve you or any second chance. . . but. . . I need to show you. If you'll let me.”

His words gave truth to what you had seen: he wasn't human. You were hesitant; not because of what he was, but because of what he did. But you knew, above all else, you felt safe. When he had grabbed you, not a single cell in your body recoiled or shied away. Vash had never once given you any reason to fear him.

This kiss was far gentler than before, but felt even more intense. He took his time, pushing back the lust in favor of something more real, more permanent. Vash pulled you open in a way that gave you the chance to end it whenever you wanted. The back of his knuckles caressed you cheek. This time, your heart clenched in an entirely different way. When you finally got the self-control to pull back. . . the sight was surreal.

Abstract glyphs began to glow and pulse from under his skin. Back and forth, a winding mosaic deeply embedded, on his chin, nose, and neck and in his eyes. Even the pupils were lit with a soft blue light. When he brought your hand to hold his cheek, the light show shined brighter and pulsed more excitedly where you skin touched. “I didn't want you to see this. Normally the markings only show when I'm-” he paused to swallow “-in contact with another plant. They've never shown up around a human before. And I can't control it this time — I tried, when we kissed before. I can't stop it, and I didn't want you to find out the truth.

“I told myself I could have you and you'd never find out what I was. Dumb, right? I believed it could work if I did it just right. That's why I ran away or pushed you out. I was trying to keep it under control, but I could feel it coming to the surface. With you, I think my body feels some kind of connection.”

You were a little too awestruck by the bioluminescent spectacle going on to fully take in his words at first. When your hands moved down to hold his jaw, you could feel the intensity of his pulse under the fingertips skimming his neck.

“At least I'm not the only one.” You finally said.

Perhaps it was the relief, maybe it was that last wall of his coming down for you, but he knocked his forehead into yours and sighed in a powerful rush that had his whole body slouching into you.

“You have no idea how much I wan—”

“Come on kids, don't be giving each other diseases.”

You pulled away from Vash so sharply you would've fallen back off the bed had he not yanked you back to him. “Wolfwood!”

“So? Guess you finally grew a spine and told her about this whole plant thing?”

“Wait,” you stopped, putting the pieces together, “when did you find out?”

“You really think he'd sleep this long? Dude's been awake for hours.”

“What?!”

Your now-lover's cheeks darkened. “You weren't supposed to tell her that!”

[leelany-world]

🤕 + Connorkus

💙💫💙💫💙💫💙

FRANKEDZ! Thank you so much for this ask 💙 I'm sorry it's taken a while, I'm still struggling with my low mood 🥺

A snippet with the prompt "🤕 panic hug / "I'm glad you're okay" with Connorkus"

It was one of countless, endless events to fight for their cause and their rights. Many people were on the side of the androids, but there were still some groups who refused to accept them, who refused to see them as a sentient species with their own rights. These groups were a great threat to the androids and especially to Markus, the face of the revolution and its leader. That's why North and Connor were always on edge during his speeches. Today was no different. Markus stood in front of a large, energetic crowd of androids and humans in an open conference hall, even though he had received another threat to stop the event. But Markus never backed down, fully trusting his partners to protect him. North's and Connor's eyes were constantly roaming the crowd, scanning faces for potential threats - it wasn't exactly legal, but Connor had shared this ability and the connection to the databases with North without anyone knowing. Markus was halfway through his speech when her HUD flashed a warning. DOWN! she sent over the always open connection to Connor and Markus. Connor immediately tackled Markus when a gun went off. The bullet whizzed just over their heads and lodged in the stone pillar behind them. Just as North was about to ask if everyone was okay, static exploded in their heads. The attacker must have used a jammer to distract them, but that didn't stop North. She jumped off the stage and tried to make her way through the panicked crowd. The humans fled in fear, while the androids lay on the ground, badly affected by the jammer. "North!" The RKs called after her, but more security shielded the two from the crowd. Markus and Connor watched her disappear around a corner, where the attacker had also fled, as another shot echoed through the room. "NORTH!" They shouted again, jumping up and pushing the other security guards away. Their connection was still down, and every second they couldn't feel or hear her seemed like an eternity without her. Markus and Connor instinctively grabbed each other's hands, their panic evident in the tight grip as they braced themselves for what they would find when they turned the corner, for North to be— "You son of a bitch! That was my favorite coat and now you've ruined it!"  —shouting at the unconscious attacker on the ground as she stuck a finger through a hole in the bottom of her coat.  Still not believing their eyes, Markus and Connor rushed to her and hugged her lovingly to feel that she was still alive. "We're glad you're okay," Connor whispered, burying his face in her soft hair. "I'm not," North pouted, "look at the hole in the present you gave me last week!" "We'll get you a new one," Markus laughed and kissed her forehead in relief. With a loud crunch, Connor crushed the jammer lying next to the attacker and they could finally hear their thoughts again. They stood there tightly embracing each other for a while until the police arrived and they had to face reality again.

3D models by DazCover (Connor) and guhzcoituz (North) on RenderHub and Zeppersart on Twitter (Markus)

From this Hug Ask Game! Feel free to send me an ask!

[catasoph]

Nightmare-Daydream

Newt x gn!reader

Summary: After the gladors survived the maze reader thinks they will never see their beloved Newt again, but fate and a good friend help them to get reunited.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Nightmares, mentions of near-death experience, guns, violence

My lungs were on fire. Expanding to the maximum to get enough air. I ran for my life. Crossing and turning. Following the screams of someone I knew better than anyone. But the path never ended, the screams didn't get any closer, instead the walls closed in around me. Until I was in another room. Everything was dark, a single light showed a boy with blood running down his forehead. Behind him stood two men with huge guns. I couldn't see their faces. It was covered in black. They had no real presence. They were demons. They lurked until the inevitable would happen. They took a step, slowly. Desperate, I cried out, pushing myself forward, wanting to run to the boy they were holding hostage. But my feet were sunk into the ground. A black liquid held them in place, leaving me nothing but my voice. Screaming pleas to hurt me, not him. But they took more steps forward, narrowing the distance between them. Why weren't they listening? Why weren't they looking? Why didn't they slow down? They pointed their guns at his head. My scream mingled with the gunshots that bore holes where his eyes once were.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), wake up!" I startled with a gasp and suddenly found myself in another dark room with two concerned eyes watching me intensely. A sob broke out of my throat, accompanying the tears falling without limit out of my eyes. "It's alright. You're fine. Everything is fine." He slung his strong arms around my trembling body. Telling me he was there, I wasn't alone. He didn't care about my violent crying staining his shirt, that I woke him out of his sleep, or that I babbled nonsense. He was just there. "Do you want to talk about it?" He was still holding me, gently rocking so I calmed down enough until my sobs turned to hiccups and they evened out. "I lost him." I only whispered it, but I knew he heard it with the way his body stiffened and he clung to me tighter. "I lost him again." "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered, afraid if he spoke louder, not only his voice but also the world around him would break again. For too long, those simple words became his mantra. Chanting them at any given time to see if they would let us heal.

"Gally," I said, separating our upper bodies so I could look at him, "It wasn't your fault." He nodded, but couldn't keep his eyes on mine, instead squeezing my arms to signal me, he acknowledged my words, but they brought little comfort. He cupped my cheeks looking in my eyes with seriousness. He seemed different now. As if he had seen a war and was ready to march into another one.

"(Y/N),I promise you, if they are still alive, I will find them and bring him back to you." I tried to smile. My eyes still glistening from too many tears shed for what I had lost, I couldn't see what I still had.

After we escaped the maze, everyone was hopeful. Until Ava Paige told us about the scorch and the flare. What cruel god would do such a thing? Make us prisoners only to let us out to die. Suddenly Gally came in with a gun in his hand, blaming Thomas for everything. Saying we belonged to the maze. And maybe we did. Maybe we still do. For there was no greener place with the warmest sun. There is no place feeling more like home than the grass enclosed by gray walls.

But after I pushed Thomas out of the way and the bullet hit me, I was okay with dying. I was okay with knowing my family and the boy I loved would survive. Because I would still belong to the maze and there would be a time when we would all meet there again.

But I survived and had to live with the knowledge of never seeing the love of my life again.

Even after that night, the sun rose again, as it usually did, and with it a new day. With each passing day, I was able to forgive Gally a bit more for not being a demon, but being hunted by them. And when I woke up the next day from my latest nightmare, I saw Gally and knew I would be standing by his side until the end. Because despite everything, he still cared for me and protected me. He was the only one who kept me sane.

"Wake up already! It's breakfast time!" Came a deep, serious voice from the doorway of my room.

"Five more minutes, Gally."

"Fucking hell. No, stand up." Heavy footsteps walked toward my bed until rough hands slid under my body and lifted me up, only to set me back down on my own feet a second later. Less than five minutes later, were we downstairs sitting at a table and eating our breakfast, while everyone around us chattered.

Occasionally I would be greeted or smiled at, which Gally found bothersome.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I mumble with a mouthful of food.

"Gain everybody's attention. First in the Glade and now here. All of them try to get in your pants." He rolled his eyes, taking a huge bite of his bread.

"I don't know. It's not my fault." A snort left the man in front of me while an amused smile crept onto his lips.

"It's definitely your fault, (N/N). Always blinking your eyes seductively while giving some morons attention."

"I don't!" I exclaimed, offended.

He didn't reply, just smirked at me while putting his dishes on his tablet to bring them away.

"Anyway, Casanova, I have to go on patrol. Enjoy your attention."

"I hate you!" I smiled pleased as the conversation ended when he came around to hug me goodbye.

"Don't put yourself in danger, okay?" I asked softly. He didn't answer. He didn't need to. I knew he couldn't promise me but I always hoped it made him realize how desperately I needed him.

After he left for patrol, I got myself ready to look after the injured and sick. It was a tough job, not made for everyone, but what job was easy in the world we lived in. At least I didn't have to fight anymore. I didn't have to kill anyone and look at their eyes turn cold. I remember all the boys we had to bury or the one's we didn't even find anymore. I was not much of a fighter. What was the point if we were all going to die in the end anyway? But I understood that we had to fight. It was our last option, other than letting fate take the wheel.

Weeks passed with the same routine. Gally went on patrol while I tended to the wounded, but we always saw each other and ate together. Sometimes, though, we just sat together in silence. Until one day, the routine broke.

It was lunchtime when shots and screams rang out from the outskirts of the city. Where people fought day and night for their survival, to secure a place in the only city left.

Gunshots and screams were nothing unusual anymore but it was Gally`s time for patrol. This made it more horrifying. My heart sank and every possible scenario raced through my head. I was going to lose him. I was going to lose everything again. If not today with these guns, then tomorrow or the day after. One day he will not be coming back. "Don`t worry, kid. He will be fine." The man with a gray beard smiled at me but his eyes told a different story. These eyes had seen too many disasters. So much hatred. How long has he been saying to himself everything is going to be fine? And how many times did he get disappointed? It felt like ages until the familiar noises from the motor of the van and his voice could be heard through the base. "We`re all on the same side here!" I sprinted down from the hospital wing. I had to see him to be sure he was alive. I had to thank him for coming back to me because I could never survive without him. He pulled his helmet from his head and I crashed into him. "I was worried sick, you shank:" In my voice was nothing angry or intimidating, just pure relief bubbling out of it. "I`m sorry, (N/N). But look who I found." My arms left Gally`s body, to turn around. In front of me was my home. The gladors who escaped with us. Not all of them were there. Winston and Chuck were nowhere to be found. My eyes zeroed in on the only boy who ever had my heart. Newt. Standing there with his eyes open and his mouth unable to form words. "We saw you die. Both of you. He shot you." Those were the first words out of it. Reminding himself this horrible day was not his imagination. "No, you left us to die", Gally spat back. Still hurt about how easily they left us behind. Before someone else could answer I took it upon myself. "They found us before it was too late. They took us in and cared for us. That's the only reason we survived." I gestured lazily toward the other guards who were watching this interaction with curious eyes. Everything stayed silent for a few seconds until Newts eyes which before held confusion, now shone with hope. He took a few slow steps towards me his eyes never leaving mine as if asking permission to come close to me. But my only answer where my own small steps toward him. "I thought I lost you." His voice was a whisper. As if the wind would pick up our secret and bring it right back to WCKED. "Me too." His hands cupped my cheeks. His brown eyes fixated on mine, searching for answers he wouldn't find in them. "Are you two together?" My gaze wanders down, not ready to be seen after a long time. Fearing rejection when everything in me lusted for love. "No, there was only ever one boy I loved." My eyes found him again. His head moved forward, pressing his lips on mine and kissing me again after all our lost time. New life was breathed into me while he held me and everything finally felt perfect. I knew now we would be alright. We would survive.