#he was bulletproof!! but the only way to know youre bulletproof is to get shot over and over again

[lovebunnie]

man at the end of the day, tim got a happy ending. he made the decision to finally remove himself from hawk to fully dedicate himself to a cause he felt so strongly about, he found a purpose and made peace with the idea that to love is so much more than getting loved in return. the act of giving is enough. and tim gave everything of himself to everything he did. the world was not fair to him, the people around him may have wanted him dead but at the end of the day, body and soul, he fought.

[tacticaldiary]

A Cracked And Fissured Door

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking."

It stings, if she's being honest. Being kept at an arms length when in public. Most people know about them, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

Masterlist

"If he sends us out before next week I'm quitting." Soap groans, back cracking as he flops down forward on the bar. "Three ops in a week? What do I look like, a machine?"

Gaz snickers, raising his glass to that. "Bloody might well be at this point."

She hides a smile behind her own drink, leaning back into the bar. They had done three ops in a week, mission after mission after mission. It had been pretty rough, just as Soap said and she was more than ready to crash and burn and sleep for three days straight but abandoning their tradition of getting drinks at this specific bar everything Saturday was not something anyone on the 141 was willing to break.

"Just be glad we got the weekend off." Ghost says from beside her. She smiles warmly at him, is rewarded with a slightly blank look.

The flicker of her smile is hid behind another sip.

"Betcha your gonna take advantage of that, eh?" Soap nudges her, looking pointedly between her and Ghost. The latter rolls his eyes and says nothing.

"Only thing I'm looking forward to is an actual mattress." She knocks back the last of her drink and stands, shrugging Gaz's arm slung over her shoulder. "Speaking of which, I think it's about time we call it a night." Casting a glance at her boyfriend, who merely nods in confirmation and pushes the stool back himself, she nods at the others. "Don't cause too much trouble, boys. Text us when you're home safe, yeah?"

"We just got shot at for a week, don't think a car ride home is gonna be the end of us." Soap snorts.

"You never know." Is all she says before stepping out of the bar with Ghost, who offers her her coat to shrug on.

"Hell of a week." She comments, glancing at him gratefully as she shrugs on the warm fabric.

"Just glad it's over," Simon says simply.

Walking back to their car, she can't help but cast quiet glances at him as they walk. She knows Ghost notices them, chooses to keep looking ahead and keep the silence.

Truth be told, she aches to touch him.

Aches to feel his skin on hers, to feel the callouses of his hands brush against hers. His heat, ever all-encompassing makes her feel safe in a way no bulletproof vest ever could.

"Think I might ask Price to assign me desk duty for a while." She jokes, knocking their shoulders together gently.

To the untrained eye, to someone who might not have been tuned to what makes Simon Simon, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but he leans subtly away so they don't touch again.

She doesn't mention it, but it makes her heart heavy.

It's nothing new. She's not sure why she's even surprised anymore.

Trying again, her arm hangs beside her, purposefully brushing against his gloves. The frown on her face deepens when he shoves his hands into his pockets.

Maybe it's the exhausting week she's had, but it gets to her, infects her heart, mind, and soul with the insecurity she keeps locked behind a cracked and fissured door in her mind.

It stings, if she's being honest.

He's not the most...social person. Closed off and private, but baring her soul to someone she loves and getting so little in return...

Being kept at an arm's length when in public, even though their relationship is not a secret. Most people know, actually, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

The car ride home is silent, but not in a comfortable way their quiet is usually shared. Simon seems to pick up on it, because he grips the steering wheel a little too hard, the tension in his shoulders a little too foreign.

Gaz had no problem touching her. A friendly punch to the arm, an arm around her shoulder. Soap was a touchy person by nature, nudging her and ruffling her hair.

So why was it that Simon always pulled away?

The one person who should love her the most, who should be proud of loving her...why does he pull away and pretend this thing between them doesn't exist.

She doesn't get it, hasn't understood for the past two years they've been together. Pushing was not something she'd considered given his stubbornness and private nature, but there's no denying she's always felt a twinge of hurt whenever he disregards her in public.

Was he...ashamed? Of her? Did he not want to be seen with her?

The thought latches itself onto her, sucking away the usual confidence she carries and leaving her a nervous mess. It makes her sick. Before she knows it they're back home but she can't find herself to walk any farther than the front door that's shut behind her.

He doesn't comment on it, just casts her an inquisitive look before moving to the kitchen in view.

Simon always did like a cup of tea before bed.

"Simon?" The word comes out a little garbled, caught in her indecision, and morphed into something muffled. He hears it, because of course he does, and hums. Doesn't look up from where he's rifling through the cupboards for his kettle.

The air is cold in her lungs, freezes up with nerves, and this is all so ridiculous. It's stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way but she does because she just does.

Trust was a precious jewel, a diamond only given to those who trusted enough to keep it unmarred. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets, she feels like she could make millions of intricate pieces with the bits of trust she had bared for Simon to take and keep as his own.

Simon knows what she loves, what she hates, how she feels about anything and everything. The rhyme and reasons, the way she ticks, and what throws her off kilter. He knows it all, it's been given willingly and eagerly to the man who took her heart with that rough demeanour on the tarmac two years ago.

She had given him all her gems, the shiniest and the dullest ones, but he's never even been bothered to spare her a piece of coal.

When she doesn't speak immediately, he pauses his movements and sets down the kettle on the counter with a 'clink'. "What's the matter, love?" He straightens up.

"Do you want to be with me?" She blurts out, unable to fathom leaving this conversation for another day. Not when she's so worked up and hurt and feeling.

His face stays blank, and when he responds it's almost as if he's doing it carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked." The sides of her coat are clutched with a knuckle-white grip, nausea making her an inch away from ruining the lovely carpet they'd picked out together when they'd first moved in.

Simon furrows his brows. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked." Unease starts to curl up in her gut. "Do you like me, Simon?"

"Of course I fucking like you, what are you talking about?"

"You sure don't act like it."

There.

It's in the open now. Simon stares at her for a moment, shocked or stunned or whatever emotion that causes him to clam up for a moment.

He never really was good at this part of their relationship, but this...it was vital. It was important because she refuses to let this problem define what they have together.

"You don't touch me when we're not alone." She starts, "You act like I'm just no one when we're out together. You barely acknowledge me any more than anybody else, pull away when I try to touch you." It feels good to let this all off her chest. Months and months of trying to figure out what was going on. "Tell me why. I just want to know why."

"I'm a private person-"

"No Simon, that's not what this is." She shakes her head, emotion rising inside her. "You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking. Like I'm...like you want to keep me a secret."

Her eyes are glassy because saying it hurts so fucking much, but it needs to be said. It needs to be voiced, he needs to listen and acknowledge-

"You know that's not true, so it shouldn't be a bloody problem-"

"Do I?" A laugh burst out of her, unexpected and short. It's enough to cut him off, cause him to narrow his eyes. "You've never told or indicated that to me. Not once. Not in two years."

"It's common sense. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want you." She can tell he's trying to stay level, to meet her in the middle but all caution gets thrown to the wind because is he really trying to argue with her on this?

"No, it's not." She insists, trying not to raise her voice as anger bubbles up inside her. Was he not getting it? Not understanding that this was hurting her? That he was hurting her? "Sometimes I-..." She swallows, "Sometimes I'll be having a great time, like today. I'll be laughing and enjoying myself and then I'll glance at you, or try and do something as simple as brush shoulders, and I'll watch you push me away. Or pull away." Her voice waver but she fights to keep it steady. "And it makes me feel miserable because what is it about me that makes my own boyfriend not want to accidentally touch me?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He says, hackles raised at being put on the spot like this. Ghost doesn't mean to, but this is all so new to him and the only thing he knows how to do in these rapidly changing situations is to be sharp and jagged and tense. "If you're so miserable, why are you still here?"

"Because I love you!" She cries out. "And I can't help but think that I might never get the same back from you." Her grip on her coat tightens.

There's a beat of silence.

"I never asked you to. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

His words cut through the quiet, as sharp as the blades he keeps strapped to his thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She whispers. "Don't give me that bullshit. That's not an excuse for not trying-"

"Not trying?" His voice gets slightly louder. "I try every day. I try to be someone you deserve but you're bloody well making it difficult when-"

"Just stop!" She yells over him. "Stop. I'm not asking for something you can't give. I'm just asking for an explanation."

"I can't-"

"You can!" To her dismay, her eyes burn with tears that are bound to fall in a few seconds, but she's too far into it to turn around now. "It's been two fucking years, Simon. Two years. I've never pushed or pressured you, I've listened and sat here and tried to be the one you can come to, but you never do." She sniffles, wiping her tears away roughly.

He stays silent, visibly frustrated but letting her talk.

"Do you know what they say back at base?" She spits out. "About me? They say I've forced you into being with me." A hollow laugh. "That I've got some dirt on you that keeps you quiet, or that I'm just someone you pass the time at night with because everyone thinks that you want nothing to do with me during the day. They talk about why we're still together, why you're still with me when you clearly have no interest." Her tears are long forgotten, left to trail down her cheeks in rivers of hurt. "They say...they say I'm only on the 141 because of our relationship."

And that was what hurt the most. Her own skills undermined like that.

That startles him enough to pull his brows in confusion "I didn't know..."

"Of course you don't, why would they say it in front of the man who looks like he could snap their spines in half?"

She waits for him to speak. To say something, anything, but all he does is stare at her with those half-blank eyes that she can never decipher and it infuriates her because did he not just listen to what she's told him.

"You know what, forget it." She chokes out. "I'm done. I'm fucking done with this." She gestures to them both, vaguely watching his eyes widen with muted panic. Getting shoved into a woodchipper would be less painful than the hurt that tears through her chest, hiccupping on swallowed sobs.

"Hold on-"

"I can't be the only one keeping us both afloat." She reaches behind her for the doorknob. "I don't want that. I love you, Simon. I really do, but it hurts so fucking much when you act like I'm disposable, like you're ashamed of being seen with me."

The door is pulled open by her, and then roughly shoved shut by Simon. He moves quicker than she could register, behind the counter one moment and right in front of her the next. His hand stays firmly on the door, keeping it shut as he leans down to catch her gaze.

"Ashamed is the last thing I am about you." He says quickly, clumsily. "I-...fucking hell that's not right at all, love."

Simon is...he's panicking.

The thought strikes her immediately with the way his chest rises and falls quickly, the lack of that cold clipped grace in his voice.

"I don't care." She chokes on a cry, hands planting themselves firmly on his chest to shove him away. It's like nudging a brick wall. The man is immovable, standing in place with their bodies so close it feels like they're sharing heat. "I'm tired, and you're making it worse so let me go." He grabs her wrists, presses them against himself to keep her in place. His hands are warm, rid of the gloves he usually dons.

She's met with every inch of that scarred face of his. She hadn't noticed but he'd discarded his mask as he'd been rushing around the counter to get to her.

"Listen to me." He breathes, trying to get his thoughts straight and keep her there with him. He can't lose her, can't let her walk out the door because he's afraid that she might never come back. "Please."

It's the last word that pauses her struggle. Simon...he was someone who operated on orders and demands so the frantic and silent plea pushed into the word is enough to make her still for a moment.

And a moment is all he needs.

"I've never..." He thinks for a moment. Never has she seen him look so frazzled. He tries again. "Everyone I've ever loved has been killed." Her eyes widen at the declaration. "My family. My friends...everyone." His breath fans over her face with how he's leaned down, hot so very him. "I think I'm afraid if I show the world I love you it might try and take you from me too." Simon's voice breaks at the end, as if he's voiced something from his nightmares and despite the pain she's feeling the sound slices through her. "And I can't...I can't live with losing you too."

With bated breath, he waits for her to respond. Part of him can't bear to look her in the eyes after the admission but he finds himself staring at her face anyway, drinking in any sign of hope.

Hope. How long has it been since he's felt the warm rays of such a feeling?

Slowly, so slowly it makes his breath hitch, she tugs her hand free on his. For a moment Simon thinks she might push him away again and his heart sinks like a stone, but then her fingertips graze his face, her hands cup his cheeks and suddenly they interlock behind his head, pulling him in.

Simon crushes her into him, tucking her head under his chin with a shuddering breath of relief. He's not lost her, not completely.

Hope.

There was still such a thing for a man like him after all.

"I'm not going anywhere." She mumbles into the crook of his neck, the feeling of his lips moving on his skin sending a shiver up his spine. "I'm so sorry, Simon. If you'd told me that before I would have tried to help-..."

Simon shakes his head immediately, arms tightening around her. "I chose not to tell you. The thought of coming home and seeing you on the ground...bloody...like them." He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Fuck, I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."

Simon didn't apologise often, so when he did that means he knows he's fucked up.

She does not tell him it's alright, that she forgives him or that he's fine. Because he's not. His apology, his honesty doesn't make the months of hurt go away. It still aches at her like before, but this time the ache has a meaning behind it. It has a reason.

They hold each other for a moment, against the door, two people knee-deep in a problem that's been brewing for weeks and weeks, bubbled over the edge in the ugliest way possible.

"I need you to try." She whispers after a moment, the barest of smiles gracing her face when he nods slowly.

"I know." He says simply against her hair. Gently swaying in each other's hold, both are content to stay there for a while, to calm their racing hearts with the knowledge that the other is still there, is real and solid under their hands.

And it's enough.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Change is a slow trek to an ever extending finish line.

Simon keeps his word. If there's anything it's good at, it's resilience. Though it makes him antsy and paranoid and dare he say slightly nervous to open such a part of him to somebody again, he tries.

He tried because he'd rather saw his own arm off than be the one who gives her a reason to leave. Not her. Not the best thing that's happened to him in years, the person who's managed to wake up Simon after years of being Ghost.

A subtle brush of hands as they walk.

An arm around her shoulder while they drink.

Thighs and sides pressed together as they take their seats on a heli.

The squeeze of her knee from under the table.

It builds and builds into something warm and new and fresh, a feeling that overshadows all the worry he had about the universe having a vendetta against him because if there was one good thing that Simon Riley wanted to keep, it was her.

Their weekend is filled with conversations, real conversations about things they've kept to themselves, worries and concerns, and moments of hesitance. He tries his best, though some words die on his tongue before he can get them out. She pushes him, but never more than he can take. Heart, body, and soul, she knows him like the back of her hand but he's the only one who can truly let her into his mind.

All that aside Simon also has another more personal task to work through once their weekend is over.

After paying some not-so-nice visits to more than a dozen people (to his absolute fury), she never once hears a peep of another disgusting rumour ever again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(26/07/2023)

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

---

The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

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[reidsdaisies]

PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR

i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away

‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.

cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

“Honey, don’t.”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.

Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.

“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.

He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.

“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”

The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.

She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”

“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.

“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.

“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”

She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.

“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”

“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”

The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.

“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”

Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."

You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.

She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She pulls back, smiling at you.

“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”

You nod. “You remind me all the time.”

Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”

This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.

“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”

“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.

“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.

“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Jay Halstead: Bulletproof 

This was born from one sentence in my mind. So, it’s on the shorter side and didn’t turn out with quite the vibe I wanted.  

Jay’s voice is steady, his words calm and direct. He was sitting facing you on the couch in intelligence’s break room trying to prepare you for what was to come. “This is only temporary,” He promised again, “It’s just until we find this guy. We have a few leads that we are following up on. We should have it dealt with soon. Nothing is going to happen to you.”  

You weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself, but if you had to bet it would be on the latter. You laugh softly to yourself- it's a nervous laugh. You were trying to not lose your shit. You didn’t want to make this any harder on your boyfriend than it already was. It was clear he felt guilty for getting you into this situation in the first place. Not that it was his fault.   

“You know, you would be a lot more convincing if you weren’t strapping me into a bulletproof vest right now.” Your words tremble slightly as you ask, “Do you think I’m going to get shot at?” You mean it to be teasing but you sound terrified instead. His hands pause on doing up the Velcro straps. His green eyes betray him, you can see the glimpse of fear shining in there before he can blink it away. Not for himself, but for you.  

“It’s just a precaution until we get to the safe house.” You swallow hard as he tightens the last strap across your side. “How does that feel? Too tight?” You wiggle around to access the new article. The vest is tight against you but not in a chaffing way. You can feel its weight press against you every time you take a breath. It’s like a reminder that you are not safe. 

“No, it’s just heavy.” It felt like it was constricting your airway, but you have a feeling it was really anxiety clogging your throat. You bring a hand up to the front of the vest, fingers slipping between the vest and your shirt pulling down. It takes pressure off, but you still feel like you're having trouble breathing.  

Jay doesn’t seem to believe you because his strong hands grab the vest and tugs. The vest barely budges from its position, but you rock forward with every pull. It seems to satisfy him because he drops his hands to your thighs. “There will always be someone from the unit with you guys. Kim will be there too, armed.” He takes the plain navy baseball cap off his head and places it on yours instead, pulling the brim low on your face. Then he untucks your hair from behind your ear and it falls like a curtain in front of your face.   

“This guy, he is going after female family members?” Jay sighed deep in his chest. It’s clear he doesn’t want to answer your questions. It is probably a vain attempt to try to protect you. He thinks your lack of knowledge will make it easier for you. He doesn’t know that in reality, it is driving you insane. All the unknowns make your head spiral while looking for answers. 

“Yeah,” 

“Jay,” You plead, and he shakes his head before nodding, clearly fighting with himself.  

“He was working with us to help bring down a trafficking rink. His wife and their two kids were killed. He blames us. Now he’s trying to take what he thinks we cost him. An eye for an eye- but baby, I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” You cup his face with both hands. You lean forward and steal a kiss. You put all you can into that kiss like it was your last. You pull back and meet his green gaze head-on. 

“I know. That’s the only reason that I’m not completely freaking out right now.” You grab his vest and tug on it like he had you. Unlike you, he doesn’t move an inch. His lips do twitch with the want to smile. You tap the vest with your fingertips three times over his heart. “I trust you- with my life.

[imshymorph]

What is this if not the consequences to my actions, anyway. @ghouljams you can’t talk about soft!Price and not expect my brain to go haywire, this time officially.

Because like you said here, he’s used to taking care of others not the other way around. And it can be quite difficult to get out of that mindset, even when he has to, when his body is exhausted and needs a break. If he’s not physically working, he’ll be thinking about it.

Which leads to now, after a mission gone wrong, leaving him in bedrest with a bullet graze on his side right under where the bulletproof vest reached and pretty bad bruising on the left side of his chest from a too-close shot that makes it painful to breathe.

And yet he’s sitting up, stubborn as a mule, ridiculously tiny looking fold-table on his lap as he fills out the mission reports. Only the clicking and typing sounds filling the room. That is of course until you walk in, frown instantly forming on your brows because what is he even doing, he should be asleep.

“what are you doing?” you ask, the almost offended tone of your voice making it obvious how well you know and how much you dislike it.

“reports.” is what he answers, not looking up from them because he knows the disapproving look he’d get from you. And the scoff that you let out only confirms it to him.

He’s the one to scoff moments later when you close the laptop on his fingers, barely missing them because of his fast reflexes. “Bed time.” it’s all you say as you take the computer and small table away.

“Did you take the meds?” you ask as you round the bed to get in, mindful of any sore spot on his body. You only get a grunt as an affirmation, his arms folded against his chest as he pouts like a scolded toddler almost making you roll your eyes.

“Just come here.” you grumble, opening your arms to let him lay in your embrace. A soft sigh leaves him when he curls on his side, face buried against your neck and injured side facing up. Your arm curls around him carefully, avoiding any painful spots as his body relaxes against yours. Before you can even whisper a “good night” he’s already asleep, light snores making you feel his even breath against the skin of your neck.

[risuola]

RUTHLESS LOVER — F. READER x FUSHIGURO TOJI

Karma is a bitch. That's what they say and yours will be spectacular for the stunt you pulled off. Was it wise to get in the way of the most dangerous contract killer there is? No. Will Toji get his revenge on you? Most likely.

cw: smut, age gap (Toji is about 30 years old, reader is in her twenties), both reader and Toji are contract killers, tiny bit angsty if you squint, violence and blood mentioned, physical abuse on the reader is described briefly (Toji’s angry, okay?), death threats, lovers to enemies and back to lovers kinda situation, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, reader discretion is advised — 4k words

PROMPTS: 59. Karma is a bitch. 66. I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Let’s go home. 71. Drop the attitude.

a/n: this piece was requested; I had so much fun writing it! it's long, as usual, because I just love to have some plot in here, hope you don't mind it. enjoy! : D

Being a part of a world of contract killers is something you inherited from your clan. You were given no choice, but to train your strength and skill, build endurance and get rid of most of the human emotions only to become effective as paid murderer. At first, the thought terrified you, even though you were exposed to blood and death from the age as young as five, but seeing it and being responsible for it are two different things. Taking someone’s life was something you couldn’t imagine yourself doing, but you had to – with shaking hands, you shot a man in the head, missing with the first bullet and wasting another one. You were only fourteen, but your hands already were stained red.

Almost a decade later, death doesn’t phase you anymore. Pushing through the trauma, you became one of the very best in the area, almost hundred percent effective, quick and efficient, and what comes with that, very highly demanded and paid. When you turned eighteen, you left your clan and not knowing what to do with your life further, you sticked to one thing you were good at – killing, and you worked on your own from that time on.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, pressing your back against the cold, rough wall. Your fingers grip the gun tightly and you quickly try to think of a way out. This was supposed to be one of those missions that you were most likely going to fail, and you didn't care as long as you got out alive.

"You were so brave back then and now you're hiding?" male voice bounces off the empty corners of the mansion, echoing in such a way that you're not sure where it's coming from. You can't hear his footsteps, but you know he's on the move. "That's disappointing, are you that frightened?"

"Why would I be frightened, huh?" you ask, checking the nearest hallway and making your way through it, slowly and quietly, careful not to make any unnecessary noise.

Situations like this are usually a complication – when two assassins are assigned the same target by two unrelated parties, it often makes things more difficult, but you're used to dealing with that. You're just faster, better at your job, and you can easily take down a grown man in a hand-to-hand encounter, but not this man. Toji Fushiguro is not a man you can take down, no matter how much force you put into it. He's definitely the most wanted criminal of the present time, infamous with high demands and no limits. He's perfect for the job – ridiculously strong, with a body hard and muscular, but insanely fast at the same time. He's bulletproof, he's unbeatable. The definition of a one-man army, he's said to have succeeded in all but one of his missions. A few years ago, it was the biggest assassination of the century in the history of Japan, a group of important politicians made as the target. With an idiotic amount of money thrown into the job, Toji was easily the most logical choice when it came to who to hire. The spectacular failure had almost cost him his reputation and his job, he was absent from the scene for over a year and it was over a year and it was you who was responsible for the unfortunate ending for him.

You were young at the time, in need to make a living after escaping your clan's clutches, and you took small jobs here and there, trying to make a name for yourself in a world full of respectable assassins. Unknown at the time, you wrapped few people around your finger and found out about the ordered assassination of the politicians. This was it; this was your chance not only to earn some real money, but also to secure your position. The job was long-term, it required a lot of research and observation, but you were well aware of Fushiguro, who was chosen to do it in the first place, so instead of racing with him and risking your life by getting in his way, you stripped yourself of all hitman traits and deliberately crossed paths with him. You became lovers. You made him drop his guard, used your charms to get your name off his list of suspects, which cleared the way for you to learn his work plan and everything he had researched. For a few months you've been with him, spending endless nights beneath his powerful body, and when everything was ready, you just ate the cherry off the top of the cake. You made a few crucial alterations to his notes, as subtle as changing the time by a few minutes, but those few minutes gave you an open door to complete his mission. You killed those politicians with clear, long-range shots to the head, took the money for it and planned to leave after that, but Toji had seen you.

"I don't know, you tell me," his deep voice reaches your ears again and you look back nervously, seeing nothing but empty spaces. You hate the echo in this place and you hate how easily Toji's appearance makes you lose your calm. It doesn't happen often, you're usually very composed, you're a cold thinker and emotions never get the better of you, but you're smart. You know when to act with confidence and when to back off, and this situation is definitely the one to back off from. In a close confrontation, you're no match for Fushiguro. "Oh, you must be scared to death as you're tippy-toeing through these corridors, clutching your little gun like it's going to save you."

"Aren't you a little cocky?" you try to keep your voice steady, but the accuracy with which he described you makes you feel uneasy. You look around once more, pushing your senses to their limits to catch anything in the surroundings that might indicate the direction from which his voice came.

"Oh, hardly. I'm just having fun. I've waited so long to finally meet you again. I must admit, the stunt you pulled on me was quite impressive, I did not see it coming," you can hear the amused tone in his voice, it sounds almost sadistic and you can easily imagine his lips curling into a smirk.

When Toji realized that his little girl, the one he thought would one day become his wife, was the person behind his failure, his blood boiled. He allowed himself to be a pawn in your hands and you took almost everything from him, so he promised revenge and researched you for months. The more he learned, the more it made sense, but it also impressed him in a way. Remembering how easy it is to snap and bend your body to his liking, he couldn't help but be in awe of the fact that you were capable of taking down a gang all by yourself or pull off dangerous missions completely alone. His attraction to you grew the more he got to know about you, and if it weren't for the mistake you made when planning your little mischief, he'd probably propose right away.

"I could have dropped a building on your head and you wouldn't have noticed," you snapped with a little too much courage even for your own liking, and the laughter that followed your little statement only reassured you of how screwed you were.

"A lil' mouthy, aren't we?" He laughs, and once again you turn around at the faint rustle behind you.

"Would you prefer me to shut up?"

"Oh no, speak while you still can," his voice rumbles against the walls again and you are sick of the game. Your own senses betray you and you move forward, almost running, while clutching the weapon he has already pointed out to be useless against him.

"Is the threat to crush my throat on the table, or do you mean my death in general?"

"There are so many delightfully horrible things I could do to you, I am not sure which one to choose."

God, how much you hate this. Pictures of many terrifying, spine-chilling punishments run through your mind, and at this point you give up the job completely.

"To be perfectly honest, I thought you had retired from the field," you tell him, calculating the possibility of outrunning him. "After the most spectacular failure in the history of failures, I assumed you wouldn't be showing up again."

"I wouldn't worry about that, sweetheart. If I were you, I would worry about myself."

"You're just a talker, Fushiguro. I'm not afraid of an old fart like you."

"Drop the attitude."

The split second you had before receiving the hardest blow to the stomach you'd ever experienced was nowhere near enough to react. It sent you flying many meters away, and the impact ripped a hole in the thin wall you hit with your back. Your vision goes blurry as you land on the marble floor, surrounded by luxuriously wallpapered debris, and for a moment you think this is it. Everything hurts, you feel as if all your insides were broken by that one blow. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth and you cough, turning your body to the side, you feel like throwing up, but only red comes out of your throat.

"Did it hurt?" the man steps through the hole and it's the first time you've seen him since the day you took his job years ago. He looks even taller than you remember, the black short-sleeved shirt clinging to his bulging muscles as he makes his way towards you, and as if your limbs were unconsciously moving, you try to slide away from him. "Poor little thing, not so brave now, are you?" he taunts and you remain silent, aware of how every word can be used against you. "Cat got your tongue?"

You move away, but he grabs your ankle and pulls you in. His long fingers claw at your cheeks as he reaches up and looks at you with amusement, pulling your face in front of his own. "See, sweetheart, karma is a bitch, and yours will be just as spectacular as the stunt you pulled on me."

Helplessly, you grip his thick forearm, hoping to force the dead grip on your face to loosen, but to no avail. His strength is unparalleled and you are damned. You put everything you've got into the kick that lands cleanly on his chest and he lets go of you, unimpressed by the attack. He doesn't even flinch, but with the freedom you've earned, you just run away, desperately trying to put as much distance between you and him as humanly possible. Maybe if you could somehow get to the airport and fly to the other side of the world, you'd be safe for a while?

"Do you really think I'm going to let you run away again?" he grows in front of you out of nowhere and you barely manage to stop yourself before running straight into his chest. With how ripped he is, that alone would probably break a nose. "No, there's no way out for you, princess," his lips are curled into a grin so cold it could freeze the blood in your veins, and before you can turn around, his big hand is wrapped around your neck. He pushes you against the wall, this time it's concrete, but it still cracks from the force he's used. It's getting harder to breathe, you feel like your throat is going to be crushed any second. "You should just say you're sorry and I might consider not strangling you to death."

"I'm sorry," you choke out almost too fast, too desperate, and he laughs out loud.

"You'd do anything I told you to save yourself, wouldn't you?" he mocks, but the hold on your neck loosens just enough to allow the slightest flow of air through your windpipe. "If I told you to suck my dick, would you get down on your knees?"

You don't reply, you don't even know how to reply. The answer is obvious, you would definitely give him a head if it would convince him to spare your life, but you know it wouldn't be a deal breaker. It would just be a power move before he threatens you some more and you don't want to give him the satisfaction of using you if his plan is to torture you further.

"No," you finally mutter, digging your nails into his forearm, but instead of letting go, he tightens his grip around your neck, making you whimper and squint. "T-toji-"

"Look what you've done, that's going to leave a bruise for sure," he chuckles, throwing you to the side like a rag doll. Your weight is nothing to him, but you feel it when it hits the ground.

"Fuck..." you exhale and pull yourself up as fast as you can, both ashamed and angry at how helpless you are against him. Two decades of training, hundreds of men you've taken down with nothing but your bare hands, and now you can't do a goddamn thing. Pathetic.

Fed up with your own behavior, you decide to try and fight. If there's no way he's going to let you out alive, you might as well cause him some trouble. Any trouble. And so, you engage him in hand-to-hand combat, making sure to dodge each of his blows and land yours cleanly. Your fists and kicks hit his body but do no damage. It's as if he's allowing your punches to connect with his form, as if he's having so much fun and it's getting on your nerves. You use everything in your path – dishes fly, doors slam, glass shatters and chairs are thrown, but when the wooden stool breaks, easily stopped by Toji's forearm, you're lost.

Once again you find yourself against the wall, only this time his body is pressed against yours without any additional hurt being inflicted. He keeps you pinned down and you can hear his heartbeat, feel the bulging erection resting on your stomach and you look up to see his face. His black hair hangs loosely over his dark green eyes, his gaze jumping from your eyes to your parted lips as you pant shallowly.

"To be honest, I don't give a fuck about what you did," he finally admits, lowering his head enough to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. "I want you back. Is that something you'd want, too?"

"Does my life depend on how I answer?" you ask quietly, your hands landing on his sides. You feel the hard muscle that seems to surround his entire body, it's almost too impressive to be real.

"No. I'm not going to kill you. I've already taught you a lesson, you won't mess with me again."

"I won't," you agree, feeling your body deflate. The tension that kept you stiff and afraid almost painfully, leaves your form and you lean into him. "Then I want you back, too."

"Great." Toji's lips fall upon yours and you give in instantly, a soft moan rumbling in your chest as his skilled mouth molds to yours, as if he was created to kiss you. One of your hands cups his face while the other runs through his raven locks, soft as silk, and you grab a handful of them, pulling him away before you get too lost in the feeling. He groans in discontent, looking down at you with the expression of a child whose toy has been taken away. With your thumb, you wipe away the red residue of your blood that remains on his lower lip.

"We should get out of here," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes, but agrees. "And then you'll tell me how much you've missed me."

"I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say," he chuckles, scooping you up in his arms as if you're nothing but air. "Let's go home."

The ride home is quick, too quick in fact, not giving you enough time for the pain in your stomach to subside, but you can't focus on that too much when he's all over you as soon as the doors to his apartment close. Toji's hands push your clothes away, pulling and tugging at the many layers of fabric you have on, and you can hear loose buttons bouncing off the wooden floor as he leads you toward the bedroom. You know the place, it's the same one you spent many long months in before you ran away from him.

"Toji," you whisper as he slides his hand down your unbuttoned pants, right into your underwear, and the sudden pressure he deftly applies over your clit makes your body shudder from the unexpected wave of euphoric impulses. He knows your buttons, he knows how to push them to rid you of any composure, and he uses that knowledge to the fullest.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds to his name, his lips brushing your ear as you cling to his enormous bicep for dear life. "Talk to me, does it feel good?"

"Oh yes," you mutter, determined not to be the only one stuttering, so you lower your hand, your fingers slipping easily under the waistband of his gray pants and through the fabric of his boxers you feel the shape of his cock. It's rock hard, struggling to find enough room in the trap of his underwear, and as you stroke it with your warm palm, a low growl escapes his mouth. Taking it a step further, you push the cotton down and your breath hitches at the sight of his erection springing free, the sheer heaviness of the girth making it impossible for him to fully stand up.

"Like what you see?" he teases, sliding one of his long fingers through your folds and into your hole, curling it so perfectly that you moan against his muscular chest. With ease, Toji lays you down on the dark sheets on his bed, not stopping his handy work for a split second before hovering over you, his lips glued to the soft skin above your neck. Quickly it's clear that the marks will last for days, but that is the last thing you can worry about when his fingers are stretching you so lovely.

You push your pants down, desperate to give him more space, and he gets the hint, pulling them along with your panties off with a sharp tug of his free hand. Pleased with how eagerly you spread your legs for him, he hums against the dip of your shoulder, a grin painting his expression in amusement as he adds two more fingers. They slip right in, your slick covering them right away, and you whimper, digging your fingernails into his strong arms. All your mind can focus on is the irresistible want to have his dick inside you, you need it and everything that comes with it – the burning pain, the roughness, the bites and bruises. Toji Fushiguro is a ruthless lover, he's able to set all your nerves ablaze, to make your mind blank, make you forget your own name.

The warmth piles up in your stomach, you slowly fall into a trance as he abuses the sweet spot inside you and you don't even notice how he moves down your body. The realization hits you when his tongue flicks against your clit and your whole body shudders at the new layer of pleasure. The satisfied smile never leaves his face as he looks up at your worn-out self while he's working on the nerve bud. His fingers move and twist inside you as he sucks, licks and kisses simultaneously, taking away your breath and any last shred of composure. He's savoring the sweetness, the taste driving him wild and he knows how close you are, the muscles of your insides squeezing his fingers in waves, your thighs trembling against his broad shoulders and your fingers clawing at the sheets with crashing force.

His name rolls off your tongue in a breathy way and he hums against your clit, the vibration sending you over and pulling you under the ocean of endorphins. You come onto his mouth, his fingers covered in white and all you can see is stars. Short pants and broken breaths leave your parted mouth as he presses his own against them in a sloppy, messy kiss. Toji kicks off his own pants and gives himself a few pumps before sliding the head of his cock along your folds.

You whimper into the kiss, slipping your hands under the black t-shirt, desperate to feel his body. With a brief pause, he breaks the connection between your mouths to remove the rest of clothes and you give in, taking the moment to catch your breath.

"Fuck," you cry out, your back arching, your head falling back at the feeling of burning stretch as he pushes his size into you. It hurts, but the pain is delicious, it makes you want more and he gives you just that. He grunts low and gravelly as he collapses onto one of his elbows, overwhelmed by the tight squeeze of your warm hole and as he bottoms out, he takes a second to collect himself. It would be unacceptable if you milk him so quickly, just with the mind-blowing sensation of your cunt.

"So tight," he purrs against your neck, pulling one of your thighs over his hip. Your lips collide again and he rolls his hips for the first time, teasingly pulling all the way out only to push back in one swift motion. He does this several times before finally setting a pace that has you holding onto his shoulders just to steady yourself. With the strength of his body, his thrusts are ruthless, almost violent, but it's the roughness that makes him such a great lover. The intensity of his fat cock almost tearing you in half is what gives you the highest highs and he knows exactly how to use his girth to fuck you stupid.

You're whimpering into his lips, your body shaking beneath him as he rolls his pelvis, angling his hips so he can kiss every sensitive spot inside you with every thrust. The power of his pistons increases. Drinking in your reactions, he feels himself growing, his cock twitching and flexing in your warm embrace, a white coating forming at the base of his cock and he feels lightheaded.

Grabbing both your knees, Toji presses them almost to your ears, your calves hook over his shoulders and as he rams his length into you, you feel like you're going to pass out from the sheer amount of stimulation. With each stroke, his body bounces off your clit, the sound of skin slapping fills the bedroom and you feel yourself squirming as your legs tremble and your breath stutters. You're close and he knows it, the smirk on his lips giving it away as he takes in the sight of you losing every last bit of connection to the real world.

It only takes a few more unforgivable, deep slams of his cock against your sweet spot to have you shaking violently. It's too much, the feeling of him stretching you to the very brink and the heat surges through your veins, setting your body alight as pleasure erupts. The overwhelming wave of euphoria makes drown in the blissful haze as you feel the orgasm unfolding and he thrusts his hips through it, chasing his own release.

As Toji cums inside you, pumping his warm load into you, you come once more, much weaker, but for your overstimulated body it feels like an explosion all over again. A mixture of broken pants fills the room as the wet, sex sounds fade away. Toji pulls out and flips you both over so that you can lie on top of his body instead of him collapsing upon yours, possibly crushing you with his weight.

His demeanor changes completely, with aftercare he's gentle, his hands soft on your skin as he caresses you. “I missed you,” he whispers against your hair, planting soft kisses on the top of your head and you smile.

“I missed you too, Toji.”

[ddejavvu]

Seeing Aaron for the first time with the fbi vest on 👀 the vest stays ON 😉

just know i wanted this to have the same energy as the scene where derek gets shot and he flashes his bandaged abs at penelope and she just pets them like 😵

--

The door clicks shut behind you, soft and smooth. It's a sound you're well accustomed to now, and not even the soft sizzle of the oil in your frying pan can trick you into ignoring it. You've got a trained ear for the click, because it means that Aaron's home.

He closes the door near-silently because he's nervous about waking Jack up. Even though it's mid-afternoon, old habits die hard.

As it happens, today is a day that Jack naps. He's passed out, spread starfish over your bed, head on Aaron's pillow and leg thrown over one of yours. You'd run him ragged at the playground today, and you're using the down time to make yourself some stir-fry.

"Aaron," You call, your voice a soft hum so that it doesn't disturb Jack from the other room, "In the kitchen."

"Hi, honey." He murmurs, arms slipping around you from behind, "Early day today, we just helped the local PD with an arrest. They needed a door-breaker, and Morgan is legend. 'Figured I'd let everyone off early to get some lunch."

You let out a soft laugh at the mention of his bulky agent, you'd recommend him for the job, too. You turn your head to press your lips sloppily against his, an awkward angle but a sweet gesture. He reciprocates as best he can, eyes fluttering shut.

"Jack here?" Aaron inquires after you part, nose tucked into your neck.

"Yeah," You hum, eyes on your stir-fry as it sizzles, though you're leaning into Aaron practically hard enough to knock him down, "He's napping. I wore him out at the park."

"Good job," Aaron chuckles, squeezing your waist. He makes to toe off his shoes by the door, but when he separates from you a soft rrrip is heard, one that strikes fear into your heart for the pretty blouse you're wearing.

"What-?" You peer down, expecting to see a hole in your shirt. Instead, you catch a thick black strap that hangs off of Aaron's chest, in fact, there's several, lining up and down his- oh, fuck.

He's wearing his bulletproof vest. The dark grey material molds tight to his abdomen, straps stretching around his torso. It only adds heft to his build, something that makes your mouth water. If Aaron notices any drool, he attributes it to the smell of the stir-fry on the stove.

"You..." You reach out to brush your finger over the bottom of the vest, "You brought home your vest?"

"Kind of forgot about it," He shrugs, watching the cloudy look in your eyes, "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," You hum casually, "Yeah that's- this is more than okay. It's... is this something you wear a lot?"

"Uh, every time I think someone might have a gun," He chuckles bewilderedly, "What is up with you?"

"Nothing." You breathe, looking up at him dazedly. He's staring at you, entirely unconvinced, but he doesn't have time to drill you any more when you take hold of his chin, dragging him into a kiss.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. You feel his hands encase your cheeks, pulling you closer even if your hands are doing so around his sides. You brace your palms against his vest, feeling the way that it gives him an extra layer of stomach, like a muscle of it's own, always flexed.

"Not that I'm-" Aaron speaks, but his words muffle when you keep pressing incessant kisses to his bottom lip, "-complaining, but- what is this about?"

"You look damn good in that vest, Hotchner." You purr, stir-fry the last thing on your mind as your thigh comes up to stick to his side, "Jack's asleep on our bed, just take me here."

"Uh, wow." His eyes widen, not negatively so, though, as a laugh escapes his throat. You're tempted to swallow it, but you're more focused on his neck, now, nipping down the heated skin.

"First of all," He reaches forward to turn off the stove, nudging the pan onto a back burner, "Sex would be unpleasant in a burning building. And second," He grips your thigh in one hand, fingers digging roughly into your flesh so that it bulges between his fingers, "The kitchen counter won't be comfortable for you. Let's do the couch instead, honey."

[tangerinesilk]

－ I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER

tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other. 

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later. 

word count ✷ 6k!

songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter

a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.

but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡

“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.” 

Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.

“Well, Thomas said-”

“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”

Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.

“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.

“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-” 

“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”

“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.

“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.

“No promises.” He replied before hanging up. 

Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.

“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”

The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”

“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.

“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.

Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman. 

He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.

“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.

“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.

“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”

“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.

“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.

The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”

His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.

He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”

“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.

As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.

Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.

“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.

Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.

“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.

“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”

“Will you just trust me?”

“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”

You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”

“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”

There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?

“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.

The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.

“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.

“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.

He nodded, “Good…” 

Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.

“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek. 

Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.

Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.

“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you. 

You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.

He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.

“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.

“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”

Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.

“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”

He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”

You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.

With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.

“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.

He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.

“Are you sure?”

You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.

“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”

He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

– – –

You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.

“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”

Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.

“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”

“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”

The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”

This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.

“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”

“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.

The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”

“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”

“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”

He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.

“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.

Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.

“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.

“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”

“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.

“I can say the same for your pants.”

Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.

“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.

You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.

Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”

You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”

He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”

You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”

He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.

He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.

“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”

You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head. 

Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.

With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice. 

Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.

– – –

The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.

You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.

After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.

He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”

“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”

Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.

“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”

You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”

He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”

Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”

Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.

He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.

You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.

Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.

“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.

“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.

– – –

Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.

Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.

“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”

“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”

Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.

You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?

He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted? 

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.

After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.

You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time. 

Obviously, you regretted your decision.

“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.

Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”

You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”

He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.

Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.

“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”

He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”

Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.

– – –

Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.

“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.

You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass. 

“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”

You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.” 

Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”

“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”

He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”

Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.

“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.

He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”

A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.

“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”

“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.

Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.” 

Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor. 

He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”

The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”

Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”

Darling.

It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.

You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.

“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.

Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.

“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”

But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.

“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”

– – –

In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.

Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.

He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.

He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.

Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.

Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.

Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.

“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.

You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.

“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.

He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure. 

You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.

As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.

You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.

Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.

As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.

Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them. 

“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”

You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.

“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.

He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock. 

Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.

Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.

– – –

Then, it was morning. 

The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.

Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.

You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.

“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw. 

“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”

You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”

Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.

“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”

Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing. 

Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.

[watchmegetobsessed]

BULLETPROOF

A/N: *screams in excitement* its here!!! its finally here!!! im so happy i finally got to finish a longer fic without hitting rockbottom with it. this one was very easy to write, i think i was heavily inspired by the night agent series on netflix lol now im very excited for yall to read it!!

WORD COUNT: 12.5k

WARNING: gun use, getting shot, blood, stalking, bullying

SUMMARY: Being Eroda's first daughter is not all sunshine and rainbows. It's tough out there when people are so fast to judge you and turn their back on you. But there is one person who's been there for you all along. Your bodyguard, Harry.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The wine is nice. The salad is tragic, probably the worst you’ve ever had. You wonder how dessert will turn out to be, could be good or poisonous at this point.

The company?

Well, at least he is not staring at your breasts.

Going out with Jaiden sounded a lot more fun when he asked you out in the library, but now that you’ve been listening to him speak for the past thirty-two minutes, you’re counting it, he appears to be just another douche who wants to brag about you at the next frat party. He probably thinks he is doing well and he might get lucky once you leave the restaurant, but there are two reasons why that won’t happen.

One, you spotted some tomato sauce on his left hand before he left to the restroom and when he came back it was still there, he did not wash his hands and then touched the garlic bread. You’ve pushed the basket out of your view discreetly after that. It’s already a very strong point, but the second one is the real deal.

There is absolutely no way the three agents, one by the door, one by the window and one at two tables from you would be okay with assisting to your hookup. Well, it’s not that they would have a choice, if you think of it. But think about it: even if he weren’t a pig, this is how it would go.

Arriving to Jaiden’s building you would be told to wait outside with Morrison, while Jackson and Styles go up and check out Jaiden’s place. Then they would come down to get you. If the mood weren’t dead by this point, you’d have to go up and start the action with one agent down in front of the building, one by the front door and then the worst, you just know Styles would stand by the bedroom door like a statue, listening closely to everything happening inside.

Then when it would be over you’d have to leave with the three men around you and return to your place. Madness. Pure comedy.

“What do you think?”

Jaiden’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts about the ridiculous daydream of tonight and you realize you have no idea what he’s been talking about in the last seven minutes.

“Um, sorry?” you clear your throat, reaching for the wine.

“I was asking you about how…”

You look over his shoulder and spot Styles through the glass door, zoning out of the conversation in record time.

He is wearing civil clothes, all three of the agents are, that was the deal when you’re out somewhere, with friends or on a date which happen once in a leap year, to be honest. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black bomber jacket over, simple, dark jeans and trainers. You wonder if this is actually his style, if this is how he dresses when he is not on duty, when he is running errands or meeting up with his friends for drinks. You only see him when he is responsible for protecting you at all cost, he’s been head of your security team for the past two years and it’s been a rollercoaster of a ride.

He was a real pain in the ass at the beginning, he would jump at every possible noise, he dragged you out of class once because someone’s pen clicked louder than the usual. Fuck, you lost count of the times you screamed at him, asking what was his problem, if he lost his mind and every time he just stood there, like a fucking rock and then just nodded at the end and carried on with his nonsense.

It took some time and lots of communication to find balance. You realized he would never listen to you when you’re screaming from the top of your lungs and you had to accept that he is just doing his job. So you sat down with him and your father, the president of Eroda to talk about boundaries.

Things have been better since then and the two of you actually work well together. Most of the times.

He was next to you at every major event, ups and downs, he drove you home after you confronted your last serious boyfriend about how he cheated on you with three different girls, you sobbed like a baby and couldn’t even open the lock on your front door. He took the keys gently from your hand and did it for you. When you woke up in the morning the fridge was stocked with your favorites. You never asked, but you know he did it.

He has attended concerts and parties with you, shadowing you even when you had to get tampons in the middle of the night. You bet he knows what brand and size you use too at this point. As much as he’d gotten on your nerves millions of times… you like the guy. He is straight forward, always speaks his mind if asked, he sees things in a very rational way. He’s ambitious and hard-working and most of all, trustworthy.

He might actually be your best friend.

How tragic, you consider your head of security to be your best friend! This must be the end here…

“You’re really not listening, are you?” Jaiden laughs, but it’s dry, he looks pissed when you look back at him.

“Sorry, it’s been… a long week. And honestly, I kind of lost interest when you started talking about football, since I know nothing about it.”

“Wow, okay, so what were you expecting? Brainstorming about possible ways to stop the climate change?” he scoffs and you actually think about just standing up and leaving.

“No, but on a date you usually talk about things you both like. I guess we have nothing in common, then. So why don’t we—“

“You really know how to make people feel stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shoot up, this is getting interesting.

“Just because daddy runs the country, doesn’t mean you’re above us all. Don’t have to be such a snob.”

“Oh, it wasn’t even me being a snob,” you retort with a forced smile as you grab your bag from the table and from the corner of your eyes you already see the agents moving. “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think we’re better as… I would say friends, but it wouldn’t be true. Bye, Jaiden.”

You stand and plan to march past him to meet Morrison and Jackson to head out, but Jaiden is not done, it seems. He jumps to his feet and his hand grabs your upper arm, pulling you back. He barely just opens his mouth when Hell breaks loose.

Morrison is first to get his hands on him, yanking him away from you while Jackson tears his hand off you, then it gets twisted behind him and Styles arrives, smacking your date up against the wall.

The whole restaurant is staring at you and you just want the ground to open beneath you.

You stop at your front door out of instinct, already knowing they have to sweep through the place before you could enter. Styles stands beside you and waits for Morrison and Jackson to return. When it’s confirmed you walk in, a blank look on your face.

“Have a nice night, guys. Thank you for tonight,” you tell them in a robotic voice. Morrison and Jackson says good night and you hear the door closing, but you know you’re not alone.

Styles stands by the door and you can feel him watching your every move as you put your heels away and take your earrings out.

“Are you gonna give me a lecture about choosing guys more wisely?” you ask, finally facing him. He’s standing with his hands clasped together at the front, his usual pose, but it’s a bit odd without his usual suit.

“No,” he answers shortly and you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind. “Just wanted to ask if you’re alright.”

“My arm is fine, you don’t ha—“

“I wasn’t asking about your arm.”

You stare back at him in silence, everything just dawns on you all at once and your chest feels like burning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, but then a tear rolls down your face.

You see the change in him instantly. His eyes soften as he walks over to you, his gaze frantically searching your face, probably trying to figure out what to do. They don’t tell agents how to deal with young, crying women who feel like they are going to die alone.

“I’m fine, really,” you say again and he pulls out a tissue from his pocket, handing it over to you.

“He was a douche. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“How many disastrous dates have I been on in the past year?” you ask with a shaking voice. He doesn’t answer, just clenches his jaw. “You know damn well that it was my eleventh. You were there at all of them. I can’t help but start to think that something must be wrong with me and not with them.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. They were… weird guys. They were the problem, not you.”

“So then it’s just my taste that’s trash, right?” you let out a bitter laugh, hoping that making fun of yourself would help, but it doesn’t. It never does.

“Finding the right person is hard. You have to give it time.”

“I’m impatient, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have. The first day I met you.”

There it is.

That teeny tiny smile that barely just curls up the corners of his mouth but it drives you insane. Because it’s so rare, it’s so intimate and every time you see it the urge to kiss it gets harder and harder.

Yes, it’s such a cliché, but you do have a crush on your bodyguard. You fought it, you really did, but one day you had to realize there’s nothing you can do about it. Now you’re just trying to live with it but moments like this make it really hard not to overstep certain boundaries. For one, you really shouldn’t have feelings for someone whose job is to protect your life at all cost. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out you’re hooking up with an agent. And two… he might be nice to you, a real friend, but you feel like there’s no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Hell, sometimes, on your worse days you even question his friendship. What if it’s all just the job for him? To take care of your fragile little soul?

You’re awfully lonely.

“Get some rest, you have an 8 am class in the morning.”

He steps back and the smile is gone just like that.

“Yes sir!” you salute him, to which you just get a bored look before he takes one last look around and walks out to check in with the night shift agents outside your door.

You’d rather spend this Saturday evening locked up in your bedroom, watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn, but tonight is one of those occasions where you have to make an official appearance as the president’s daughter.

You’ve definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, nothing went as you planned so far and you even had a fight with Styles because he ended your morning run earlier when a group of obnoxious fratboys appeared on the football field next to the running track and they accidentally threw a ball in your way.

You have not talked to him since, haven’t even seen him, but you know for a fact he will be coming with you tonight. He is there at every official event, never missing one.

There’s a soft knock on the front door just when you’ve finished getting dressed. You shuffle over to the door and opening you find yourself facing Styles in his usual suit, a change from the workout clothes he wore in the morning.

Fuck, you want to act grumpy still, but he looks especially good with slightly more tamed than usually and he is freshly shaven.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Not yet. Come and help me, please,” you say as you turn around, but you notice he is not following you. “Come on, I won’t bite your head off.”

With a tiny frown he finally moves and follows you into your bedroom where you grab the diamond necklace you want to wear tonight.

“Can you put it on, please?”

He takes the necklace, holding it so gently, you have never seen him handle something with so much care.

Maybe only you.

You turn around and hold your hair up as he reaches around your neck and you bit back a moan when his fingers brush against your collarbone. He fidgets with the clasp for a few moments before taking a step back once it’s done.

“Do you think I can make an early Irish exit tonight?” you ask, stepping into your heels and he offers you a hand that you gladly take to help the process. Once you’re done you head out, Styles following you right behind.

“Don’t think the president would appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know him well, I think I can have a pass from him.”

It’s another event where you feel absolutely useless, you’re just there so your father could show off.

“…And this is my daughter, Y/N. She is studying law!... She is top of her class, yes… Isn’t she a lovely young woman?...”

The smile on your face starts to hurt when you decide to take a break from all the guests that you know nothing about but they all seem to be very familiar with you.

“I’m gonna go out for a bit,” you tell Styles who’s been your shadow all night, three other agents watching your every step as well from different points of the room.

“Let me che—“

“I think there’s no danger out on the balcony, everyone has been thoroughly checked here, I’ll be fine for five minutes.”

You have a staring match for a minute where he weighs in on your words before finally nodding.

“Five minutes,” he says, opening the door for you.

“Start the fucking clock,” you mumble under your breath.

As you stand by the railing, staring out into the night you feel more deflated than ever. Like you’ve lost every ounce of energy and the urge to just scream is quite tempting. This is not the life you dreamed of, but it is what your father always wanted and you sometimes feel like a terrible daughter for being so displeased. You do have privileges others would never get to experience, but you’ve never felt lonelier and more out of place. The way here showed you how shallow your friendships have been, now only have about three people you consider your friend and one is your bodyguard, one is studying in Switzerland and the third is… Wait, there’s no third. That’s it, you have two friends.

You hear Styles stepping closer and you already know what he is about to say.

“I know my time is up, but if you dare to remind me, I’m pushing you off this balcony.”

Turning around you face him, ready to fight him for some more time, but you’re surprised to see him with that tiny smile on his face.

“You’re really moody today,” he states, but it’s not one of those smartass comments he usually makes, he is teasing you.

“Surprising?”

“A little bit. Are you… Are you still upset about your date?” His face turns serious.

“I was never upset about the date specifically. I was upset because… Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Stop being so fucking polite,” you groan.

“I can’t be rude to you, I would lose my job.”

“You’ve been rude to me on several occasions! Especially at the beginning!” you accuse him.

“I was never rude. I was honest.”

“Jesus, you are so annoying,” you roll your eyes that earns a smirk from him.

“That’s not my job, but I tend to be that often.”

“I might be moody, but you’re awfully cheeky tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

You head back inside, Styles following you.

“Don’t know, guess I’m just in a good mood.”

“Alright, then I’ll need a drink to put up with this new side of yours.”

And that’s what you did, but you didn’t stop at one drink. You didn’t plan to, but you successfully got so drunk Styles had to rescue you out of the venue before your father saw you. After all, you did make an Irish exit.

In the car you can tell Harry is not in the same good mood, he looks rather pissed as he drives you back home, constantly checking the mirrors to see if Morrison and Jackson are behind you.

“Aw, did I make your job harder?” you pout, but then start laughing as you look at his hard stare. His profile looks annoyingly beautiful and you just want to draw the slope of his nose with your finger.

“No, but it would have been nice if I didn’t have to bring you out through the back door on my shoulder, because you kept running away.”

You start laughing as he recites what happened just about fifteen minutes ago when he was trying to chase you down to get you into the car and away from anyone that could ruin your father’s political career if they saw his daughter running around drunk.

“Don’t be so pissed, your eyebrows will glue together one day, you pull the together way too much,” you snort out a laugh as you slide lower in your seat.

It’s an hour long drive and of course, you fall asleep soon. When you open your eyes next, you see that you’re already in the garage of your building.

“Come on, you need to get to bed.” Styles opens the car door, but you’re still half drunk and half asleep, so you just mumble something and close your eyes back. “Y/N, you can’t spend the night in the car.”

“Says who?” you breathe out.

For a few seconds nothing happens and you start drifting back to sleep when you feel an arm behind your back and one under your knees. You faintly realize that you’re being carried up to your apartment and when you force yourself to open your eyes, you realize that it’s Styles.

“Mm, is this also in your job description?” you groggily tease him, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mr. Styles. Harry. Can I… call you that?”

“Call me whatever you want,” he answers and then waits in front of the apartment while it’s checked out. With the last bits of your energy you study his face that’s now dangerously up close. He is carrying you like you weigh nothing, his strong hold keeping you safe.

“Oh, don’t tell me stuff like that,” you chuckle, your eyes closing as you push down a yawn. You hear the agents coming out of your apartment, saying it’s clear before Harry starts walking again and a few moments later you’re laid down on your bed.

“You have to change, Y/N,” he tells you, pulling your heels off your sore feet. Groaning, you sit up and he helps you up to a standing position before turning around to walk out, but you stop him, pulling him back by his hand.

“I can’t get this off alone,” you say, nodding down at your dress. You catch the hesitation in his eyes as he weighs in the situation and steps back at last.

You turn around and move your hair so he can access the zipper. He doesn’t move instantly and you’re almost about to turn around when you finally feel his touch on your back. He places one hand to your shoulder blade, holding the dress in place while he pulls the zipper down with the other.

Slowly.

So slowly, it’s almost like foreplay.

Especially since you have no bra underneath, so the lower he gets the more skin he is able to see. The silky dress loosens around your body and you know he is looking at your bare back. With one hand you keep the dress to your chest, but the other one lets go of your hair as you turn back around to face him. 

The alcohol is working eagerly in your system and you’re feeling blunt and risky as you hold your chin high with a half smirk.

“Where did your cheekiness go, Harry?”

“I’m gonna go now.” He gulps hard as he backs away towards the door, but you follow him.

“Am I that scary? That you’re running away?”

“Y/N, stop.” He looks into your eyes as he finally stops and his green irises appear dangerously dark as he stares back at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug innocently as you keep walking towards him until you’re just inches away from his chest. “Have you never thought of me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t see disgust on his face and it’s enough for you to keep pushing.

“Because I have. Several times. On nights when I knew you were outside and then other times when I didn’t know where you were but I was hoping you were thinking of me.”

He is still completely silent, though his eyes are throwing fireworks your way when one of the straps of your dress slips down your shoulder.

“I want you and I want you to want me too, Harry,” you whisper as you move even closer, your hand that’s holding your dress pushing to his chest while the other moves up to the base of his neck. His skin is burning and you’re desperate to feel it underneath his crispy dress shirt too. 

But before you could close the gap, he pulls back and it’s like a slap across your face.

“Go to bed, Y/N. You need to sleep.”

“But think about it, you could brag about fucking the president’s daughter, wouldn’t you want that? You’d be the man, Harry.”

Your words are like venom as you look at him, your chest heaving, your heart hammering under your hand. 

“Stop talking before you say something you might regret,” he warns you.

“So you’re not man enough to fuck me? How should I trust you with my life then if you can’t even make me come?” you call after him when he is already out of the bedroom.

He freezes and the words sink in as you stare at the back of his head. You expect him to turn around and lecture you, to tell you how cheap you sounded, but instead he just walks out of the apartment and leaves you to your spiraling, drunk thoughts.

You realize you never actually knew panic and terror until you wake up the next morning, realizing what you did last night. That you have to face Harry after you almost begged him to fuck you and then said he is not man enough to be your guard because he didn’t have sex with you.

You have an afternoon yoga class on Sunday that you very much consider canceling on just so you don’t have to face Harry, but you can’t hide in your apartment forever, you’d have to meet him again sooner or later. So when it’s time for you to leave and you hear the knock on your door you open it with shaking hands, relief washing over you instantly when you find DeLuca standing in front of you, no trace of Harry.

That means you have some more time to figure out how to deal with the situation you got yourself into. Yoga actually helps you find some peace of mind, but only until you leave and catch on Jackson’s radio before getting into the car, Harry’s voice asking for a report.

He is working and he’ll be at your apartment, meaning that you have to go through the most awkward situation ever in about fifteen minutes. 

It all happens as if you were in a movie. Arriving at the garage Jackson opens the door for you, DeLuca rounds the car and right at that moment the doors to the elevator swing open and Harry walks out with two other agents. Your mouth goes dry and you’re getting ready to fake your death, but things take a turn then.

“DeLuca, take her to the second floor, it’s been cleared. Jackson, Morrow, come with us.” Harry instructs the agents and you realize something is wrong.

“What? What’s happening?” 

There’s an apartment on the second floor for the agents, like their own little headquarter and it’s usually the safe place they take you to whenever something looks suspicious. Harry looks at you, worry etched onto his face as he places a hand to your back and leads you over to DeLuca.

“There’s been a security alert while you were away, we need to check the whole building.”

“Alert? What kind?” 

“Someone tried to get into your place,” is all he says before he passes you over to DeLuca and disappears with the other agents.

The time you spend on the second floor feels like forever, but it’s actually only twelve minutes. They sweep through the whole building and check the system, trying to find out what happened, but the cameras only caught a man in a black hoodie who stopped at your door, fidgeted with the lock for a while but couldn’t get in so he left. When it’s safe for you to return to your own place you’re walked back by two agents, but the tension is still thick. 

You hear Harry doubling the agents for the rest of the day and night and he checks your apartment one last time himself again when his phone rings and you know it’s your dad calling from the tone he answers the call.

“Yes, sir. Passing the phone over,” Harry says after the briefing of the situation and then holds the phone out to you.

“Dad?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t here.”

“Alright. We’ll have some extra agents around you for a while. I know you don’t like the guardedam, but we have to do it until we find out who it was.”

“Okay.”

You talk a little more and then you give the phone back to Harry, because your dad wants to have a few words with him. He listens carefully for a while and then walks out of the apartment, leaving you wondering what else there could be, but your dad could be a little too overprotective, so you’re sure he is just fussing about the situation.

You’ve just finished making yourself a cup of tea when Harry returns. He would never admit it, but you can tell this incident is stressing him out. 

“Everything alright with my dad? He didn’t tell you off or anything, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you won’t like what I’m going to say. You need to have an agent in here with you until we get to the bottom of this situation.”

“Will it be you?” The question rolls off your tongue before you could even think about it. 

“If you want me, yes.”

“I feel the safest with you.”

It’s the truth. Even though the things you told him, screamed at him, don’t agree, he is still the one you trust the most around here to have in your apartment with you.

“Okay,” he nods. “I have to talk to the team, so–”

“Wait!” you stop him from leaving, knowing well you need to have this conversation. Swallowing hard you leave the tea on the kitchen counter and round the island to get closer to him, but still keep some distance. “I want to… I want to apologize for last night. My behavior was… Unforgivable.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you give him a hard look. “I had too much to drink, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. So… I’m sorry.”

He stares back at you for seconds that feel like forever before he finally nods and you know it’s not just a meaningless reaction to get you out of his hair.

“Okay.”

“We’re… we’re good?”

“Yes. But I really need to go now.”

“Alright,” you clear your throat as you watch him walk towards the door, but he turns back one last time. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

And with that, he is off to do his job.

You spend the rest of Sunday studying and you get so focused on your textbooks and notes that you totally forget about Harry’s return and you don’t even notice it. So when you wander out of your bedroom after your brain has been fried from everything you studied, you almost scream when you see Harry standing in the living room by the window.

“Holy shit!” you snap a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“What happened?” He moves fast like a cat, instantly checking the room for possible dangers.

“Nothing happened, I just… forgot you’d be here,” you admit with a soft chuckle as you head out to the kitchen. “It’s kind of creepy how you’re just standing there.”

“I can see the street from here as well,” he answers, as if it was such an obvious thing to say.

As you move around the kitchen, heating some leftovers up you catch him looking at you, or to be more precise, your legs that are almost completely bare thanks to the cotton shorts you’re wearing. 

Last night was a disaster, but now that the shame has settled in you, something else has been lingering in the back of your mind. The sense of hesitation you experienced when you were trying to seduce him embarrassing yourself has been on your mind. How he didn’t move away instantly, how it looked like he was fighting himself, so it gives you the idea that a tiny part of him does look at you the same way you look at him. 

The way he is looking you up is another boost to the theory. 

“Any news about the intruder?” you casually ask, ignoring his stare that quickly slips away from you when you speak up.

“Not yet. But we’re working on it.”

“Do you think… it’s something serious? Like someone is after me?” Leaning onto the kitchen island you play with the spoon in your hand as you look at him, waiting for his response.

“I wouldn’t go into guessing. I’m more of a–”

“Of a fan of factual planning, I know,” you finish his sentence with a smile. You’ve heard it from him several times, word by word.

Grabbing the bowl you round the island and stop a few feet away from him.

“I really do trust you, Harry. With my life.”

You feel like you had to let him know again after last night. The way you questioned his ability to protect you was not fair, he gave you no reason to believe he is not the best person for the job. There’s a reason why he is head of the team.

“Thank you,” is all he says. He is back to his distant self that only focuses on work. You know in times like this it’s better to play by the rules and retreat.

“I’m gonna head to bed soon. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

Everything falls back to a somewhat normal routine. Following the incident your team almost doubles, but nothing actually happens and the building’s security system gets an update so three weeks later you’re back to your usual with only slight changes. 

Like how there’s an agent in your living room during the night.

There was a discussion about positioning someone inside your apartment and they explained to you why it’s better to have someone with you during the night. You understood and agreed to do it under one condition: you have to approve of the agents that can take the position. There are three of them and of course, Harry is in that team.

He’s been taking up the inside position as much as he can. He never asked you, but maybe he figured you know him the best and feel the most comfortable with him inside.

Most of the time he hangs out in the living room. He doesn’t stand by the window all the time, you’ve caught him sitting in the armchair, walking around, stretching his limbs. To make it less miserable for him you spend a lot of time in front of the TV, mostly to hopefully entertain him at least a bit now that he’s stuck with you more than ever. For days, he didn’t even look at the screen, but lately you’ve caught him following the show several times, so you’re religiously keeping this habit up. 

The awkwardness has faded, but it definitely taught you a lesson. You better not get drunk when Harry is around and that’s like… all the time. 

Everything seems to be back to it’s extraordinary normal that you’ve been used to for the past few years. 

Today is a special day, however. You’ve been part of a case study competition, your criminal law professor suggested you enter and you’ve worked insanely hard on your case for the past three months that earned you first place. They are holding a little award ceremony today and it will finally be your moment. You will be in the spotlight because of something you worked hard for and not because your father is the leader of the country. 

He promised to be there and watch you accept your well-deserved award and you’re excited to make him proud. 

You started the day early and channeled your excitement into a long morning run before spending the noon at a salon to get your hair and nails done for the occasion. You might be the president’s daughter, but you’re a woman after all and you love a good pampering before an event. 

Now you’re sitting in you closet, trying to figure out what to wear, all the outfits you’ve tried on but decided against are lying on the floor around you in piles. You start to think you should have gone shopping, but then you find the perfect dress, a simple, but elegant black dress with a deeper back cut. You pair them with a pair of designer heels and some statement earrings to bring some light into this quite dark set and you’re all done. 

When you walk out of the bedroom Harry is standing by the window in his usual black suit white shirt attire. His eyes snap over to you and this time he can’t hide how he checks you out from head to toe. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a twirl.

“You look… very professional,” he answers. It’s not what you expected, but you know he meant it in the best possible way.

“Has my dad’s plane landed?”

“I haven’t gotten any news from his team yet, but I’m sure he’ll be there on time. Shall we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling out of breath. An unsettling feeling sinks into your gut, but you brush it off as Harry helps you put on your coat and you leave the apartment in the ring of agents.

Because of your attendance, the event’s security has been obviously raised and a group of agents have been at the venue long before your arrival, checking every corner so when you’re finally there you can walk in without having to wait in the car. 

The competition had several different fields so there will be more students awarded today, the room is full of winners, their proud professors and parents as well. You take your assigned seat and nervously look around, searching for any sign of your father, but there’s none, so you’re left with just waiting.

It’s killing you, so you text him but you get no response. He should have landed by now to make it in time, his silence is raising concern in you now.

“Harry? Can you please reach my father’s security team?” you ask and nodding he takes a few steps back as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

Something is off, you can feel it in your guts and you fucking hate it. It takes forever for Harry to turn back to you, right when everyone starts clapping, because the dean has entered the stage to start the ceremony, but you’re only looking at Harry.

“What did they say?”

“Y/N, he is… He is not coming.”

“What?” It feels like a punch in your stomach and you wish Harry would say it’s just a joke, that he is about to walk in any moment, but the look on his face tells you it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you whisper as you turn back to face the stage, your throat closing up while you fight your tears.

It was the first thing you asked from him in so long. You’ve been there for him every step of the way and today you just needed your father to be here and be proud of you, but he ditched you. There’s been an ongoing joke on the internet that it will always be the country before you for your dad and you even laughed about it before, but now it’s your cruel reality.

You watch the winners get called on the stage one by one and the willingness to do the same dies in you with every passing moment. 

“Y/N?” Harry taps your shoulder and you snap out of your thoughts only to realize your name has been called. 

“Fuck,” you mumble as you stand from your seat, three agents moving with you, taking their places as you walk up to the stage and shake hands with the dean. Every first place winner has said a few words, so now it’s your turn at the microphone, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk. Looking around you see the sea of faces, everyone is waiting for you to finally say something. Your eyes land on Harry and he gives you a tiny nod and somehow you find your voice.

You manage to say a few sentences about the importance of your study and thank the school for the opportunity before you walk off the stage. You’re expected to return to your seat, but instead, you’re heading to the restroom.

The dam breaks and tears start rolling down your face. You completely ignore the protocol, that an agent has to check the room before you enter and a hand pulls you back before you could rush into the ladies room.

“Y/N, I need to–”

“I don’t want to have the fucking toilet checked, I want to have some fucking privacy!” you snap at him, tears rolling down your face and you’re very close to start sobbing like a child. Harry looks back at you with shock on his face, this time he can’t even mask it, probably because he has never seen you like this.

“Okay, but–”

You don’t wait for him to finish, just push your way inside and don’t stop until you reach a sink that you can lean onto, the sobs finally erupting from your chest. 

Betrayal, disappointment and helplessness wash over you, pulling you right into a possible emotional breakdown, though you’re still fighting it as you open the tap and splash some cold water into your face.

You didn’t realize Harry followed you inside, so when you feel a hand on your back you almost get a heart attack.

“Hey, it’s just me, it’s okay,” Harry holds his palms up when you jump back, gasping for air because of the panic and crying at the same time.

“I s-said I-I wanted p-privacy!” you sob shaking your head.

“I can’t just let you walk in here alone when you can barely breathe!”

“I don’t want to do this! I don’t fucking want to do this!” you cry, leaning your back against the cold, tiled wall as you let yourself fall apart for the first time in forever. You’ve been trying to be calm and collected as much as possible, but so much has piled up on you that your father not showing up was the last straw, the cherry on top.

“Y/N, calm down, take a deep breath, okay?” Harry tries to calm you down, but you just keep shaking your head and sobbing. 

“He didn’t come! It was the only thing… I asked from him!”

“I’m sure he has a reason to–”

“I don’t fucking care! He doesn’t care about me! No one fucking does! I’m just… I have no one left! No one!”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. There are people who care about you.”

“Who? Who cares about me!” you scream at him, finally looking into his eyes and his gaze pierces into yours as he answers.

“Me. I care about you.”

“It’s your fucking job to protect me, it’s not the same!”

Your chest is heaving and you must look like a complete mess, but at this moment nothing really matters. Harry looks back at you like you just seriously hurt his feelings, like what you said was just as disappointing as your father not showing up. Long moments pass by without him saying anything and you start to think he’ll just walk out like he did that night you got drunk, but then he steps closer, definitely crossing the line of comfortable distance.

“If you think you’re just a job to me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you beg in a whisper.

“Don’t call me a fucking liar,” he snaps back and it’s the first time you hear him swear. His pupils have swallowed his irises and his breathing is almost as wild as yours as he stares at you, practically burning a hole into your face. 

“You left me that night. Without a word. I told you I wanted you and you walked out. That does give me a certain message.”

“You were drunk out of your mind, telling me to fuck you. I would have never forgiven myself if I touched you. I had no reason to believe you wouldn’t regret it in the morning and ask to never see me again. That would have been the end of my career and the end of… me.”

Though your cheeks are still soaked from your tears, his words have stopped your crying and now you can’t even tell what you’re feeling. You have no idea what to do or say, how to react and you can’t believe how this situation is turning out to be. 

“I still want you the same,” you whisper, your mouth deciding on what to say because your brain is in complete shock. 

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fall closed and you can tell he is fighting himself, so you want to push him over the edge. Reaching up you cup his cheek in your hand, he doesn’t move at first, but then he leans into your touch and that’s when you push yourself away from the wall to get closer to him, but he pulls away.

There’s a second of devastation, but when he reaches to his earpiece you realize someone is talking to him.

“Copy. We’re in the restroom, give me the fastest route out.” He talks into his wrist before his eyes snap up to you.

“What happened?” you breathe out, feeling like your heart cannot take another shock at this moment, but you’ll have to deal with it anyway. He listens to the answer they give him through his com before talking to you.

“We need to get out. The guy who was at your apartment was spotted in the building.”

“What? Is he armed?” Harry takes your hand in his firm hold and gently, but confidently pulls you towards the door. 

“We don’t know, he ran away, DeLuca and Jackson are after him, but we need to get you out of here.”

Your pulse is higher than ever, you feel dizzy and your brain is definitely shutting down, too much has happened in just minutes, you’re on survival mode. Harry must have noticed your state, because before he could open the door he turns to you, taking your face in his hands.

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.”

“Okay,” you nod, blindly believing anything he says.

He then opens the door, steps out first to check what’s happening and returns to get you and you’re on your way to flee the building.

Circled by agents you follow Harry through hallways you’ve never been to until you somehow get to a back entrance. Your car is already there, waiting for you and you get in the back, lying down onto the seat, remembering that’s what Harry asked from you the last time you had to be rescued out of somewhere. You catch his face before he shuts the car door and he gives you a small nod. 

You don’t experience much of what goes down at the venue, they take you to a safe spot and you wait there with three agents while the rest of your team is either in the venue or at your apartment, making sure there’s no one there. 

Almost an hour goes by when Harry returns and you look at him, feeling on the edge to finally know something.

“We lost him. Your apartment is cleared, let’s get you home.”

You can tell he is beating himself up for letting the guy slip away and you already know he will put his walls back up.

He does one more check in the apartment himself before letting you inside. 

“We are doubling the security for tonight and then we’ll talk about the changes tomorrow,” he lets you know, following you inside. 

“Okay. Are you gonna stay in here?”

“Most likely,” he nods.

“Are you blaming yourself for tonight?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes talk for him. 

“You couldn’t have spotted the guy anyway, you would have been with me either way.” You walk closer to him, but keep some distance, sensing his distress.

“I wasn’t focusing fully,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Nothing happened, you–”

“Y/N,” he stops you from talking. “I’m responsible for your safety. Today I put that responsibility behind my feelings and that cannot happen again.”

“Is this your way of saying… you don’t want me the way I want you?” Now you’re moving closer, you need to reduce the distance between the two of you, it’s like something is pulling you towards him, a force that you’re not strong enough to fight. 

He stares at you for long seconds, taking a deep breath before he speaks up slowly in a calm manner.

“What I want does not matter when your safety is at risk. Let me… Let me do my job, let me do what I have to do to keep you safe. Please.”

It’s like he’s begging you, pleading for you to understand and… let go of him. And as much as you want it all to be different, you can’t go against his will and intentionally hurt him, there’s nothing you can do other than live with the pain. Like you always do.

“Okay,” you whisper and try your best to swallow back your tears, you’ve cried enough today. 

Harry exhales, like he’s relieved you’re not putting up a fight and to your surprise he cradles the back of your head and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss to your forehead. 

“I have to take care of a few things, Morrison will be in here until then, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod weakly. His hand falls from the back of your head and you watch him turn around and walk out of the apartment. 

You’re on autopilot. Have been for weeks.

Following the award ceremony things turned upside down once again. On one hand everyone has been on edge, because they couldn’t track the guy down, so your security has been doubled since then. Agents follow you everywhere, making it impossible to have a normal human interaction, not that you had plenty of friends to hang out with before. But still.

Your dad called that night and gave you some grand story about why he couldn’t make it to the ceremony, you told him it was fine, because you had no energy to lash out on him and you haven’t had a decent conversation with him since then. You can’t say it bothers you, it’s like there was a switch inside you that now allows you to give zero fucks about what your father does. You’ve canceled two events you were supposed to attend by his side, using the mystery intruder as an excuse, saying that you don’t feel safe out in public. You could tell he was annoyed, but didn’t question it. 

And then there is the Harry situation. Or the lack of it, if you’d like. It’s been hurting like hell, but there’s nothing you can do other than keep your promise of letting go of him. It’s just really hard when you spend so much time with him and have him in your apartment almost every night. 

You don’t watch TV anymore. You can’t bear being in the same room with him with no one else around. It’s hard enough to know he is on the other side of your bedroom door. You go back to coexisting, you silently follow his orders and not give him a headache when you know he already has a lot on his plate, he does his job in peace and everyone is happy.

Or not, but it doesn’t matter. 

The school semester is nearing its end and you’re already planning to ask to stay here for the summer. You know your dad will flip, but you’ll at least try to make a deal with him to attend events in the summer if it means you don’t have to move back home that doesn’t even feel home anymore. 

With your finals coming up you spend most of your time in the library. Surrounded by heavy books, hundreds of pages of notes, you’re working your ass off, because this is the only thing that could make you forget about your misery for a while. 

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost evening and you’re still very much working on a paper in the almost entirely empty library. It’s a great time, because most students avoid the building on Fridays, more interested in parties than books, so it’s a lot more peaceful. It’s your way of distraction from the fact that you have to make an appearance tomorrow for your dad and you can’t bail out of it this time. 

There are three agents near you and two more at the entrance, but Harry is not working now. He will probably take another night shift, not that you keep track of when he works…

You’re too focused to notice the group of people that come in, but when you spot a figure approaching you and the agents around you move instantly, you finally lift your head up from the book in front of you. You’re surprised to see Jaiden coming in your way, stopped by the agents.

“Jaiden?”

“Um, I just want to talk to her,” he says to the agents and you nod your head to let him through. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to give you something, thought you might be interested,” he shrugs as he passes you over a paper and with that he is already on his way, leaving you puzzled.

It’s a QR code so you grab your phone and read it and a website starts loading on your screen. When it finally loads, you feel all the blood rushing out of your head.

It’s a site basically dedicated to you, where people can send in anonymous comments and stories about you for everyone to read them. There are quite a few, a big chunk of them obviously from guys you’ve gone on dates with, dragging you through mud, a lot of them stating things that never even happened. 

You just scroll and keep reading them in total disbelief and then you hear laughter. You look up and see Jaiden with a group of fratboys, having a blast seeing you go through the site before they hoard out of the library. 

Your head is spinning and you feel like throwing up as you pack up your stuff as quickly as possible. It’s a struggle not to start sobbing on your way home, neither of the agents ask what’s wrong, because they are not your friend, they are there to keep you safe, but not from assholes, apparently. When you arrive to your apartment you see Harry already waiting by the door, but you avoid looking him in the eyes as you rush inside, wanting to lock yourself up in your room preferably forever. 

The tears start rolling down your cheeks when you hear someone coming after you and you know it’s Harry. 

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, keeping your back facing him so he can’t see your face.

“Then look at me, please.”

You don’t move, just stand there, silently crying and there’s no way of fooling him, he knows you better than anyone and your shoulders are shaking as well. Slowly, you turn around for him to see your face.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer, but he still keeps some distance between the two of you.

“Nothing, I said I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, Y/N, don’t… don’t bullshit me, okay? Tell me what happened!”

He won’t give up, he won’t leave you alone until you say something so you pull your phone out of your pocket, open the website and hand it over to you. You watch him scroll for a minute before he looks up at you.

“We’re taking this down and we’ll find whoever did this,” he firmly says and before you could react he is already giving orders through his com. “They are on it. we’ll find them, don’t worry.” “Okay,” you breathe out and you turn around to lock yourself up in your bedroom, but he stops you.

“Y/N, wait!”

You look back at him, not even trying to mask how tired, defeated and hopeless you’re feeling. You must look like just a shadow of the person you used to be and the sight of you is probably just as depressing as you feel because it breaks the professional boundary that’s been between you and Harry.

He moves across the room and pulls you into his arms and you just start crying and sobbing uncontrollably while he holds you tight, gently rocking you from side to side to soothe you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into your hair and you just bury your face deeper into his neck, probably totally ruining his shirt, but neither of you cares about that right now. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you sob, melting into his embrace, because it feels like the only safe place for you.

“I know. I wish I could help you. Tell me what I can do for you.”

“Just please don’t leave me, not tonight, please!” you beg and fully expect him to pull the wall back up, but instead he just holds you even tighter.

“I would never leave you, Y/N.”

The amount of times you had to fake laugh tonight is ridiculously over the roof. It’s another evening where you’re just a tool, something your father can brag about but you hold no influence or whatsoever. 

You’re sipping on some champagne, but you’re careful with the alcohol consumption this time. Though you’re not sure how another situation like that last time would turn out now. Especially after that night after the website fiasco.

After soaking his shirt with your tears the two of you sat on the couch, you remained in Harry’s embrace and he talked you through it, until you momentarily forgot about what happened and somehow you ended up falling asleep. When you woke up you had a blanket over you and Harry was standing in his usual spot by the window, like a hound, watching out for danger. When he realized you woke up he walked you into your bedroom, tucked you in and sat beside you until you wófell back asleep. 

The website was down by the morning and the school was informed about it as well, taking matters into their hands to punish those who created it. You didn’t want to know the names, you just wanted to forget about the whole thing. 

That night changed things between you and Harry. You didn’t feel that wall between the two of you though there was still some distance, but it felt like you could overstep it easily. It’s like you’ve been dancing on a fence, still not sure which side you want to land on. You’re not planning to pressure him to choose, having him this close is already more than you had before so you’re happy to prolong it for as long as possible. 

You have no idea where the conversation is heading around you, you’ve zoned out of it long minutes ago. It’s not that you don’t understand what politicians, influential people tend to talk about at events like this. It’s more about how you recognize some of them know nothing about the field they work at and still hold the power. 

And you lost interest too. 

Holding your champagne flute your eyes wander over the room until they settle on Harry. He is by the window, what a shocker, examining the sea of guests around you, watching out like a hawk until his gaze meets yours and his expression softens. 

“Bored,” you mouth to him and you catch the smirk he tries hard to cover up.

“You got this,” he mouths back to which you frown, making him laugh.

His laugh.

You’ve been gifted with it more in the past few days than in the time you’ve known him and it’s definitely one of your favorite things in the entire world.

“Break?” you mouth once again and he just nods, moving instantly. 

Five minutes later you’re out on the balcony with him, two guards standing by the door inside. 

“This should be considered torture,” you sigh.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teases you.

“I’m not, I hate it here. Look around.” You stand beside him, staring inside at the sea of guests. “What am I doing here?”

“Supporting your dad.”

“I think he is fine without me,” you shrug, nodding towards him, he is standing in a circle of men, all of them pretending to be having a marvelous time, but you know for a fact at least two of those men would backstab him the first given chance. It’s all so pretentious and you’re tired of trying to be part of it for him.

“What would you like to do?” Harry asks.

“What do you mean?”

“If you could do anything, any job, anywhere, what would it be?”

You’ve never really thought of that before. A life that’s entirely what you want it to be is so far out of your reach that you never let yourself daydream about it. So now you take some time to think it through before sharing it with Harry.

“I would probably have a riding school,” is what you tell him at last. He looks at you surprised.

“Like… horses?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly, keeping your eyes ahead, staring at the people inside. “I used to ride a lot when I was smaller and I loved it a lot.”

“But you never do it anymore, why?”

“I wasn’t exceptional in it, never won any competitions so my dad thought I shouldn’t keep doing it. He talked me into quitting and I started learning French instead.”

“You speak French?” he asks in shock.

“No,” you chuckle, finally looking at him. “I was mad at him for making me quit horse riding so I never put any effort into my French classes, I can barely introduce myself.”

“Wow, such a rebel,” he chuckles quietly.

“What about you?”

“I don’t speak French.”

“I know that,” you roll your eyes. “I meant, what would you want to do if you could do anything?”

He curls his lips into his mouth as he thinks about it, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I would be living on a farm.”

“A farm?”

“Yeah. You know, growing stuff and keeping animals. I love the thought of growing everything I need.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smile at him. “I hope you get to do that one day.”

“I do too,” he nods and the two of you just stand there, watching the mingling and dancing guests.

It’s a moment you want to last longer, you feel close to him, like you’ve finally jumped off that fence and you’re running away. Together. 

So at last you decide to give him a little push.

“I wish we could be dancing there too.” 

Your voice is quiet, barely audible through the noises coming from inside and when he doesn’t say anything for a while you start to think he didn’t even hear it, or that he is ignoring your words because he doesn’t want to deal with them.

But then his hand gently takes yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I would… love that.”

Your chest feels like bursting and you wish you could just jump into his arms, but you know you can’t. So instead, you just stand there, enjoying this tiny, hidden moment that’s burning into your memories forever.

It was hard to focus on your conversations before, but now, after you’ve shared that special moment with Harry it’s kind of impossible.

You’re making your rounds around, chit-chatting and smiling as pleasantly as possible, but in your mind you’re still out on the balcony, holding hands with Harry.

Talking about him, you haven’t seen him in a little while. You look around, searching for him once again, probably for the millionth time in the past ten minutes, but you see no sign of him.

“Morrison, where’s Styles?” you ask the agent beside you.

“Your father asked to see him, Miss,” he informs you. 

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, Miss, I’m sorry.”

You try not to think much of it, but when you finally spot him in the crowd your stomach drops, because his expression is anxious and angry at the same time, though he is trying hard to mask it. But you know him too well.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, instantly ignoring the conversation you’ve been in before. 

“Can’t talk right now, but we better leave.”

You don’t question him, just follow, though the way he is acting now is freaking you out. He is right next to you as you make your way out of the room, getting farther and farther from the rest of the guests.

“What happened?” you finally ask when you’re walking down the hallway that leads to the entrance.

“I don’t want to turn you against your father,” he answers, but now you’re just even more keen on knowing what’s going on.

“Harry, tell me!” you demand, stopping abruptly.

Not too willingly, but he comes to a halt as well, turning to face you as he leans closer.

“Your father kept it a secret that they got a letter yesterday in which someone threatened to hurt you today. He kept it from us, because he knew you wouldn’t come tonight if you found out.”

“What?” All the blood rushes out of your face as his words process. 

“He strengthened security for your sake and thought it would be alright, but I don’t want to risk it, we need to get you somewhere safe until we get to the bottom of this whole thing.”

“Okay,” you nod, a shiver running down your spine at just the thought of that letter your father hid from you. 

You’re nearing the exit when your father’s voice beams through the hallway, just when you’re already seeing your car outside.

“Y/N! Where are you going?!” 

He is rushing towards you with his own security team circling him and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I’m leaving!”

“And you didn’t think of at least saying goodbye?”

“I’m not doing anything for you anymore. Not when you’ve intentionally put me in risk just so you could use me at another event!”

The look he gives Harry says it all. He is pissed that Harry told you about the threat, that someone went against his will.

“It’s not that serious, Honey. We have everything under control.”

“Is that so? Then who sent the letter?”

“We don’t know it yet, but—”

“What if it’s the same guy that’s been stalking me? What if it really is something serious?” You’re finally lashing out on him, something you probably should have done a lot earlier, but you didn’t have the balls. You’re done being the obedient, supportive daughter to a father that’s not returning it at all.

“We doubled security and I have people working on it! No need to–”

“Don’t tell me what I need and don’t need to do! I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore! You knew I would panic if I found out about it but you chose to hide it so you could use me tonight to show people how great of a family we are when in reality, you give no fucks about me!”

“Y/N, that is not true. I didn’t want to stress you out, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Lie. That is such a big fucking lie.

“I’m done. I’m done with you. Call me when you’re ready to be my father.”

Turning around you’re on your way out to the car, you hear your dad calling after you, but Harry stops him and it’s the first time you hear him talk so harshly to your father.

And then all hell breaks loose. But it’s not because of Harry’s way of talking to the president.

You’re approaching the car confidently, eager to get away from your dad and the madness that surrounds him, Harry is following you right behind and as you keep your gaze on the car suddenly you realize.

It’s not yours.

Everything happens so fast, but at the same time it’s like it’s in slow motion.

A guy jumps out of the car and points a gun right at you. The agents around you launch forward, but he is several feet away, so they don’t reach him before he pulls the trigger and shoots at you. In that moment you believe you’re about to die. Gasping in surprise you completely freeze, but then get pushed to the side with so much force you smash against the wall, pain jolting through your left arm instantly as the shot of the gun rings in your ear.

You fall to the floor the same time the agents tackle the shooter. From the corner of your eyes you see how your ad is being dragged away from the scene before he could get hurt as well, even though he is shouting your name, it’s protocol to rescue him and take him to a safe place right away.

As you look to your right you see another person on the floor and your heart skips a beat when you realize that it’s Harry, and a pool of blood is underneath you, growing rapidly each second.

He took the shot that was meant for you.

The rest is a blur. You start screaming and try to reach him while two agents pull you up from the floor to take you away from the scene as well, your arm hurts like hell, but you just keep screaming for Harry. 

At last you catch his face, you see him gasping for air, pure panic and fear all over his face, he looks at you one last time and you see a tear rolling down his face before you’re dragged away.

The constant beeping. It just keeps going and going and it’s driving him crazy. 

Crazy enough to finally open his eyes.

Harry is more than confused about his surroundings, the hospital room looks sterile, but nice, very nice if you ask him, so he knows he is at some kind of private facility. It takes a couple of moments for the pain to set in but when it does, it comes with all the memories as well.

He was shot in his chest when he pushed you out of the way, he remembers the pain he felt then which was a lot worse and more intense than the dull, pressure like feeling in his chest right now. He remembers lying on the floor and looking at you as two agents pulled you away and he knows he said his goodbye in that moment, because he was convinced he would die.

He didn’t. 

Now he is lying in a hospital bed, the machines hooked onto him keep beeping and tracking his vitals and when he turns his head slightly to the left the beeping intensifies because he sees you sleeping in an armchair next to his bed. 

You look awfully uncomfortable, but still breathtakingly beautiful, your left arm is in a cast and you’re cradling it to your chest. As if you could sense his wandering gaze, you start moving around and you blink your eyes open at last, seeing that Harry is finally awake.

“Hey,” he breathes out, barely finding the energy to speak, but you burst into tears right away as you fall forward, one hand coming to the side of his head, the other one holding his hand on the mattress.

“You’re awake, oh my God, I really thought I lost you!” You sob and try to take in the sight of him conscious and talking, something you didn’t think you’d ever see again when you saw him lying on the floor three days ago.

“I’m okay, I’m right here,” he exhales as his other hand comes to take your hand by his face. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Harry, you were literally shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” you laugh through your tears, finally cracking a smile from him as well. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just broke my hand, but it’s okay. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

“Kind of. But it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? The bullet missed your heart by one millimeter. Doctors said it’s a miracle you survived.”

“Well, at least I know I’m not bulletproof,” he tries to joke and it makes you laugh and that was his only intention. 

You’ve stopped crying, but you wouldn’t move from beside him. You’ve been in this room since they brought him out of surgery and refused to leave since then. He reaches over and wipes your tears off your cheeks before cradling your face in his palm. You gladly lean into his touch and then turn your head to kiss into his hand without hesitation. 

You fill him in on what happened. Tell him about how he was rushed to hospital and the guy was caught and it was confirmed he sent the letter and he was the one stalking you at your apartment and award ceremony as well. You were afraid it was someone you knew, but apparently he was just some psycho who wanted to hurt your dad by hurting you.

It was a wakeup call to your father. One that he desperately needed after the stunts he has pulled lately, so you had a long talk outside of Harry’s room when he found out you were here with him. He apologized for everything and promised to be better. You told him his words mean nothing, you need to see the change in his actions. 

He has visited every day since then and you discussed the future as well. A future that will bring lots of change.

“You saved my life,” you quietly say, still kind of in shock about what happened.

“I would do it again,” he replies. 

“You won’t be able to work again because of it,” you tell him. The bullet grazed his lung as well and the doctors said he might never be able to reach the same physical limits like before.

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t lose you and that’s what matters.”

His words sink in and you have to fight your tears again as you rest you lean closer, until your faces are just inches away.

“I don’t want to feel again the way I did when I thought you died. I don’t want to keep my distance, I… I love you and I want to be with you.”

Harry exhales heavily, his eyes fall closed and when they open again you get lost in them.

“I love you too. And I want to be with you too, always have.”

You let out a laugh that’s mixed with relief, happiness, pain and so much anticipation before you push closer and finally press your lips to his.

Years of built up tension and passion is set free as you kiss him and he returns it just as eagerly. It’s not at all how you imagined your first kiss, not with a cast on your arm or Harry lying in a hospital bed after being shot, but none of it matters in this moment, only him. There’s no more playing around, pushing each other away, this is end game and you both know it. 

“So…” you mumble against his lips, “Will you move to a farm with me?”

“Moving? Aren’t we rushing a little ahead?” he chuckles, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face before pecking your lips shortly.

“No. I don’t want to waste any more time. Let’s do what we always wanted to do.”

“What about your life? Your dad?”

“I already told him I’m stepping back from my first daughter duties. He is okay with it.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he doesn’t have much saying in what I do after almost getting me killed,” you joke, though you both know how serious the matter was.

“And you’re sure you want to move on… with me?”

You smile at him softly, it’s so typical he is questioning your decision even after everything that happened. He surely needs some time to adjust to this new version of you and him where there’s no wall between the two of you, just love.

Leaning down you kiss his lips softly.

“There’s no one else I would do it with, Harry.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[bonny-kookoo]

Oh please please please please can we have a Drabble of off duty kook watching the body cam to learn what happened to OC!?

A/N: you wanted this. Obviously Warnings for angst, injury, medical emergency, gun violence.

The bodycam footage is a little shaky, but very good quality- and Jungkook kind of wishes it wasn't. Because the resulting details are just that much harder to cope with than if he couldn't quite make out properly what was happening.

"Put the gun down!" An officer he knows as George barks out on the laptop screen, holding out his own weapon. He repeats this command time after time,but the guy doesn't cooperate, your body on top of his, strangling his legs so he can't escape.

You're suddenly fighting with the man again, gaining the upper hand now as you kick the gun from his hands, successfully somewhat holding him hostage.

It's when the officer gets closer to you, others putting the violent man in cuffs, that Jungkook has to swallow hard.

"Medical is on the way. Good job there." George tells you, who's breathing deep and fast, swallowing often, looking around frantically. Jungkook knows what you're probably trying to prevent from happening- all of these things telltale signs of you being nauseous. "You still with me?" The officer asks, and you nod, eyes looking around. "No no no hey, stay here, yeah? Come on, you can do it-" George urges as you attempt to get up now, skin having lost its color as you struggle to stay composed, pain probably catching up to you.

There's blood on your hands, on your neck, and chin, darkened stains on your uniform. It's not clear where your wounds are, until George attempts to figure it out as well, finding multiple in the process. "Shh hey, hey puppy it's alright, it's okay. We're gonna get you help alright?" He calms you as you begin to panic more and more, eyes tearing up. "What's wrong? Talk to me?" He worries, as you look at the officer in front of you, having now somewhat laid down.

"I can't feel them-" You whimper, and George doesn't understand.

"Feel what?" He wants to know, keeps you up and alert for as long as needed.

"My- my legs, my tail, my-" you begin to whine, struggling to stay coherent, voice slurring. It's now that the officer removes your bulletproof vest and harness to search for something.

"Where'd you get shot darling?" The older man wants to know, and you whimper something out he can't quite understand. And even at the second attempt, your words stop making sense.

His hands find an entrance and exit wound in your thigh thats not bleeding much. Another shot has clearly landed in your lower back, another one right next to it. There's no exit wound to those two.

"Fuck- where's medical?!" He barks out towards some officers, who call something back that's not picked up by the camera on his vest. "Well tell them to hurry, she's bleeding out!" He urges angrily, before he moves to reassure you again as you start to become more and more panicked. The sound of your distressed crying makes Jungkook bite the inside of his cheek.

He hates the sound of it.

"Jungkook?" You slur out, a few times, and his heart breaks.

"Jungkook is okay, focus on yourself right now." The officer tells you instead.

"They're almost there." A young officer tells George.

"I sure hope so, I don't know how long she can keep fighting." He worries softly, watching you. "Hey- hey, no no, keep those eyes open!" He suddenly demands as you become awfully quiet, no longer crying anymore. George calls your name- but only your ears move a little towards him at the familiar sound, eyes becoming glossy and distant.

Jungkook can't stand the sight.

"You did a real good job, alright?" George tries to soothe you, keep your attention on him. "See? There's help- over here!" He calls out, as the medical personnel finally arrives to tend to you.

"And that's about it." Seokjin sighs. "That's.. well. That's what we got for now."

"Did she lose the leg?" Jungkook asks, and Seokjin shakes his head.

"No. The wound there wasn't actually that bad- the bullet had missed any larger arteries." Jin informs his coworker. "The issue where the other one's."

"Spinal injuries." Jungkook sighs.

"No." Seokjin denies, catching Jungkook's attention. "One bullet fractured her pelvis. the other ones damaged nerves, according to the doctors at the hospital. She's had her pelvis fixed during surgery-" the older police officer sighs. "But she'll probably have to receive one or several mods to fix the severed nerves."

"And that'll take months to heal." Jungkook mumbles. "Not even taking into account how long it'll take her to get used to everything." He hums to himself. "Fuck.."

"She'll most likely be let go." Seokjin states, and Jungkook nods.

"I know." Of course Jungkook knows. He's stuck in the same position after all.

And he really wished he could switch places with you, take all the hurt and give you the easier spot in this tough battle. But he can't.

All he can do, is try and be there for you for whatever time you've got left as partners.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan; the Gotham Kid.

“Alright,” Pete says, then drops back down to the floor, rolls his shoulders back, and cracks his neck. “Mike, Lou, you’re going left. Vito, you’re on the right. Don’t worry about covering me. Kid–what the fuck’s your name, kid?” 

K-i-d, Kid signs. Pete gives him a dry look. 

“Very funny,” he says. “Alright, fine. ‘Kid’ it is. Kid, get your ass out there as soon as you see an opening and don’t get killed before you do something useful about it.” 

yes, sir, Kid signs instead of bothering to waste time explaining it actually is his name, or at least the closest thing to one he’s got, and Pete snorts. 

“Uh, boss–” the guy Pete called “Mike” starts, sounding wary. Lou and Vito are already drawing guns, looking resigned. 

Kid finds out why about half a second later, because Pete throws open the bolt on the main doors and kicks them open into the faces of the bodies outside without another damn word before charging straight into them. 

Okay, then, Kid thinks. That’s . . . an approach, yeah. 

Admittedly, more planning was involved than Kid tends to use himself. But Pete probably isn’t bulletproof. 

Kid doesn’t have time to figure it out either way, since Lou and Vito are already out the doors too and Mike is running after them with a string of curses. 

“Kid, don’t be a–!” Candi starts to hiss warily. He doesn’t look back at her or anyone else in the building; just runs out too and slams the doors behind him. 

And flips the bolt back shut with his TTK, too. 

It is Clayface, apparently, because the bullet holes Pete just put in the lead guy’s face are full of clay, and so are the ones Lou and Vito put in the others’ chests. Mike yelps in alarm; Kid runs straight past him. If he gets shot, well–they won’t know the difference, as long as he hides any holes in his clothes. 

Worst case scenario, it’s not like they’re from around here. Nobody’s got any reason to care what they say. And a lot of people out there are bulletproof, anyway. Nothing about getting shot a couple times and not dying from it is identifying information that’d ever leave Crime Alley anyway. 

And Kid’s not even really bulletproof. He can just pretend to be. 

He’s always pretending, after all. 

“Jesus, boss!” Mike yells as Pete jams a taser into the clay-spattered mess of the guy in front of him’s face and fires it. All of the fake Falcones fall at once, thrashing and twitching, but only the first one screams. 

And then they all collapse into roiling, thrashing brown clay, and start rippling and crashing towards each other. Lou nearly gets knocked off his feet and Vito goes down with a sharp, bitten-off curse, hitting his back on the gravel and concrete. Pete jams his taser into the nearest massive lump of clay as it lunges past him and it splatters everywhere. 

Pete bares his teeth in a vicious, grim imitation of a grin, like an old habit he hasn’t quite shaken.

Superman’s memories tell Kid to expect something else from him, again, but that’s what he gets. 

[luvanniiee]

line of work

• pairings : policeman!hyunjin x fem!reader

• synopsis : hes a cop. his job is to help protect the city. he gets shot at all the time. there was a near miss. all he ever tells you is , its all in the line of work

• warnings : angst like a lot. mentions of shooting, injuries. smut. unprotected sex (wrap it or never see it again) , emotional vanilla sex, fluffy sex, reader has feminine body parts, petnames, breeding, reader gets pregnant, missionary and riding, lots of emotions being shown. fluff at the end! lmk if i missed something.

• a/n : hey yall, sorry for my lack of posting. but this is just something for yall to read until i finish my other two writings including, feel a way part 2 , and the ateez headcanons i have for yall! okay lemme not talk to much, enjoy the story!

story under the cut :)

everyday starts off the same. hyunjin wakes up, gets ready for work, drowns your sleeping face with kisses , leaves a note on the counter for you, and goes to work. hes a policeman, everyday you’re worried about his safety. sure he may have a bulletproof vest on, and he has partners he goes to work with, but that still doesnt ease your mind until he walks in and lays in your arms.

there was a shooting a few streets down, and of course being scared, you called the police. they responded as quickly as they could. you turned on the news. no one died thankfully, but there were several injuries including the responding officers. you saw hyunjins name listed as one of the injured responding officers. so you hurried downstairs to throw on whatever shoes you could find.

as you went to open the door, a tall figure stood over you. it was hyunjin. baby! oh goodness are you okay? why are you here? shouldn’t you be in the hospital? you questioned. the questions seemed to go in one ear and out the other. he only looked at you. his eyes were full of hurt, relief, lust. im fine bunny. i just….i just need to feel you right now. he said looking in your eyes. uh..hyunjin. arent you hurt? you asked concerned for him. im fine just please let me feel you. i need to be wrapped tightly all around my body. he almost whispered out.

before you could say anything, he pressed his lips against yours. the way he kissed you, full of those emotions he wasnt too fond of sharing out loud. he kissed you with all the love he has for you. it made your head feel light. then he broke the kiss to whisper on your lips, please? he whined. you kissed him again to let him know that you were here to satisfy him. he backed you against the wall, his lips detaching from yours and kissing down your body. he went from your lips, to your neck, to your collarbone and back to your lips. you moaned slightly at the action.

he smiled and picked you up to carry you to the bed. as he laid you down, he started to take off the rest of his uniform. he took off his uniform shirt and then the sweatshirt under it. you looked at his chest, there was a bruise there. you wanted to say something but instead of talking, you sat up and pushed him down. so he was under you. you then kissed him again, slowly and full of love. then you also kissed down his neck but you got to his bruise and paused for a second. hyunjin was gonna tell you to not stare at it for so long. but before he could you started kissing lightly on his bruise.

he hissed slightly as the contusion was still very sensitive. but to him, i didnt matter how much it hurt, he just needed to feel you like that. hyunjin started to get hard because of your actions. then you put your hand on his bulge. he pushed his hips slightly forward trying to get more. but instead you just remove your hand and straddle him. you were moving on him gently so that you wouldnt hurt him. you kissed him again. this time you were grinding down on him. he moaned in your mouth and he gripped your hips.

as much as he’d like to stay in this position with you, hyunjin wasnt really feeling in the mood for teasing. so he flipped you over, and leaned over you. he took your shirt off and motioned you to finish taking off your clothes. which you wasted no time in doing. hyunjin also finished getting undressed so you both were naked soon. wanna skip the foreplay or do you want it? he asked. that’s something admired about him. no matter how needy he was, he would always make sure you were satisfied. lets skip it this time. you replied.

thats all it took for him to spit on his hand and rub himself. you were already wet enough, so he slipped his cock in. you both moaned at the feeling. he sat there for a minute to let you adjust but also to just feel you. he looked at you, his eyes watering a little, he leaned down and held you. i was scared…i thought i wasnt gonna make it out alive. hyunjin said as he started to cry. you teared up too, his words touching your heart. soon enough though, he started to move his hips slowly. he wanted to take his time with you.

any emotion he was feeling, was coming out through his tears, and the rhythm of his hips. you made it and your here, safe with me. you whispered out as you lifted his face to kiss him. there was so much being said even if he wasn’t actually saying anything. he let out a small whine as he felt you clench around him. his noises made you wetter, you felt yourself getting close, but he needed to speed up a little for you to get there. please baby… a little faster. you whined out.

he went faster for you. but the contusion on his chest was bothering him more than he thought. he tried to ignore it but it was hurting him. you noticed this and proposed that you ride him. he nodded and stopped his thrusts. he pulled out and laid on his back. you straddled him once more, this time you positioned his dick so it would slip in easily. you both moaned again, and you started to swirl your hips before bouncing. he held on to your hips as he forced you to still your hips. not yet baby..not yet. he moaned as he closed his eyes.

then he lifted his hips and thrusted into you from below. your instinct was to put your hand on his chest for balance but you settled on the pillow underneath his head. you both were moaning and crying each others name. his thrusts from below made you close. im gonna cum baby. you moaned softly. he nodded his head and pushed your hips down as much as he could. he did that so he could push himself deeper inside, then he started to push his hips into you. it made your head light and before you could announce it, you were experiencing your high.

you came with a silent moan and a slight shake from how intense it was. you soon caught your breath and leaned forward to kiss him. he felt how tightly you clenched around him, it made him get close too. and soon enough he spilled himself into you with a loud cry of your name. fuck y/n, im cumming! he moaned. he stilled his hips as he came. his eyes slightly watering. it was a beautiful thing to see when he came.

hyunjin slowly let his hips fall back to the bed, and you lifted yourself off him slowly so you dont overstimulate him on accident.

it was a scary thing that happened today. but im glad i was lucky enough to come home to you. hyunjin spoke. im glad youre here. also that bruise baby, should we take care of it? you asked. no, ill just let it go down on its own. he said. hyunjin. you spoke. hm? he replied. you didnt pull out. im not on the pill. you mentioned. i know. hyunjin said. you smiled at the thought of having a family with hyunjin.

i hope yall enjoyed this one. i hope it isnt too much. but yeah, feel a way and ateez are coming soon. so please stay tuned lol anyways byee!!

p.s. contusion is a medical term for bruise, if you didn’t know that, well now u do! i didnt wanna keep saying bruise over and over again so i decided to use that word. lol.

©️luvanniiee on tumblr !!

[xoxoavenger]

I Know Places

pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

summary: they take their shots, but we're bulletproof (I know places) and you know for me, it's always you

word count: 2579

warnings: some blood, this one kinda got away from me my bad

1989 masterlist main masterlist

"Here's the problem I have with keeping us a secret,"

"I don't want to hear it."

"I wasn't finished." Y/N doesn't let Stiles' dramatics get in the way of her venting, because right now she couldn't be more mad at the fact that they were not public as a couple.

"Y/N, please," She's only going to say things that have been repeated on multiple occasions in the seven months they've been dating, and tonight Stiles doesn't have the energy nor the time to get into it.

"No, Stiles!" He looks over at her as he realizes that she's more fed up with this than usual. He puts his eyes back on the road as he lets her go off even though he's heard it seven times this month. "I can't stick up for you! You get angry when I so much as look at you in front of the pack, much less try and argue. I mean fuck, no one is going to suddenly think we're dating because I voice the problem I have with using you as bait." She hasn't even taken a breath, and while Stiles understands her side of the story he's not wavering his position.

"I'm not saying you can't look at me! But nothing you say is going to make Scott or Lydia agree to change their position."

"And what about you?" She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the door to see him clearly.

"What about me?" Last time he checked they were talking about her feelings. He chances a glance at her which only makes him feel weirdly guilty about something he's sure he has done but can't actually remember doing.

"Nothing I say can change your position?"

Stiles is a smart man. He gets relatively good grades. He makes countless plans that work, figures out who's trying to fuck with them before even the police can. He can argue and persuade for just about anything. So he knows what Y/N is talking about, and he knows that playing dumb will not help his cause.

"You're mad because I volunteered to be bait." The only reason the two of them are in the Jeep on the way to the woods is because Stiles told everyone that he would gladly draw the new alpha pack to him and run to the check point where the rest of the pack would be waiting. The only problem was the time period before they would make it to the pack, where they would just be to far to help if something happened. They had all been arguing about who it should be when he stepped in, causing Y/N to imagine herself breaking his arm just so he wouldn't.

"I don't know why you have some sort of hero complex," She angrily gets out of the car before he's even parked, leaving him to sigh and slam his own door when he gets out. "But what I'm even more confused about is why you're somehow astonished that your girlfriend would be mad at you throwing yourself into the line of fire." She's freezing as soon as they start walking, but she doesn't say it. In order to draw the alphas, they needed couldn't wear a jacket. In December.

"You didn't have to come with me." He grabs her hand anyway, because they're alone and they don't get to walk holding hands very often.

"Are you even listening to me?" She asks quietly, aware that their pack is intently listening to them, ready to jump in when the alphas arrive. "I'm not mad that I'm here with you, I'm mad you volunteered for sudden death." They make it to the agreed spot, cuddled close together as they shiver.

"You're mad because this plan is the worst." He clarifies, and just like that they're back to normal, clearly understanding each other. They don't need to say it to know that they're both able to forget about the details in the face of death.

"It is," She tells him quietly, smiling wide when he leans his back against a tree and lets her lean against his front. "I mean, having to kiss you, make out even," She isn't able to roll her eyes because Stiles is leaning down, hands coming around her waist as he kisses her.

The amazing plan Stiles came up with is for them to pretend to be lovesick teenagers (because why would a couple of twenty-somethings sneak out to kiss) completely oblivious to the pack roaming the woods. And Y/N wanted to kiss Stiles right then and there when he came up with the plan, which made her even more mad about keeping their relationship a secret. They weren't in high school anymore, and Y/N was sure the pack would be able to handle the knowledge that they were dating, but Stiles was worried, didn't want to step on any toes or break the whole 'no dating pack members' rule that had been established when Malia and Scott broke up.

They kiss for a while, and it keeps them warm for a couple minutes. But soon it's too cold and they're chattering as they kiss, and neither of them even wants to kiss anymore. Just as Y/N's about to tell Stiles that she's not sure she can feel her feet, let alone her hands, they hear it.

They both snap toward the sound of a twig breaking, much closer than they were hoping for. The alphas don't even try to hide, instead flashing three pairs of red eyes through the darkness. It doesn't take anything else for Stiles to begin sprinting, grabbing Y/N's hand and pulling her along.

They run toward where the pack is waiting, desperate to be away from danger and somewhere warm. Y/N's thankful for the adrenaline, which masks pain sparking from her legs as she shakes the cold off and follows Stiles. They're almost to the meeting point when a pair of red eyes makes them veer away.

They hadn't expected that they'd be surrounded.

Stiles doesn't waste a second, pulling Y/N away as if they weren't supposed to be going toward anyone at all. She's freaking out, hoping the pack can hear the change in their footsteps and come meet them. She's lagging behind, the cold burning her lungs in a way that she didn't even think was possible. Her ears are shooting pain into her head as the breeze makes it's way through her body. Her hand is slipping from Stiles' and she's about to give up when she feels pain erupt in her leg, which she previously thought was numb.

She lets out a blood curdling scream as she falls to the ground, Stiles turning to see the sight that haunts his nightmares; Y/N is on the ground, blood pouring out of her leg as she tries to claw herself forward. There's an alpha behind her, a man with a sinister look that tells Stiles the alpha wants to do more than just turn his girlfriend. Before Stiles can even think about how to fight the werewolf that is twice his size, Scott is roaring and tearing at the Alpha's chest, taking him by surprise.

"Run!" He yells at Stiles and Y/N, going back to fighting. Everyone is there within seconds, fighting off the alphas and clearing the path for the couple.

Except Y/N can't run.

She can't stay quiet either, letting out grunts and moans and whimpers with every step. She leans heavily on Stiles, but he's only human. He knows they're surrounded, knows there's not many options for them. It's do or die, and he is not letting his girlfriend die because he just had to be the bait.

He pulls her into a thick patch of bushes, out of sight. They crouch, which becomes sitting and Y/N extends her leg to fully see the bite wound she now has. He knows this isn't enough however, and he squeezes his eyes shut at the thought of what he has to do next.

"They will smell your blood," He whispers to her, maneuvering them to be able to hold her, her back against his chest. Her hands go up to his arm and squeeze, as if he wasn't already feeling guilty enough for what he has to do. He only thinks this quickly because of his recurring nightmare of this exact scenario. He's tried many different ways to hide, and through it all this was the only way they weren't found. "I'm so sorry," He puts a hand over her mouth and pulls her into his chest, his other hand grabbing the moist dirt and pushing it against her wound. She screams at the contact, muffled by his hand that she is clawing at. He grabs more dirt, a tear falling down his face as he presses it harder against her leg.

They will still be able to smell the blood, if they're close and really looking, but they won't be able to track it from afar. All he can do is hope that his pack can take care of it so he can get Y/N to Melissa.

"Stiles," She whimpers, trying not to cry as he moves his hand from her mouth. "Oh God, I'm bit, Stiles!" Her voice was getting high with panic, so Stiles grabs her and holds her as close as he can.

"You're going to be okay, it'll be okay." He doesn't believe his own words, but he needs Y/N to believe them. He needs her to stay strong, because he doesn't know what he'll do if her body rejects the bite.

It feels like they're sitting there for hours, Y/N's grip slowly slackening. Stiles tries not to read too much into it, but the dirt he had put on her leg is wet and dark with blood. He can't put more on, knows that by now there's too much blood to be able to dampen and the only thing it'll do now is introduce infection. He can still hear distant roars, and he hopes someone realizes they never left.

"Stiles!" It's Scott, running quickly. He's able to find them in no time, confirming Stiles' thoughts. He's just glad an enemy didn't find them first.

"She's bit," Stiles tells his best friend, who is currently taking in their position. Y/N's head is lolling, sweat pouring out as her body is fighting to stop the bleeding. This bite was deep, deeper than Scott's or Liam's, and it instantly worries Scott.

"We'll get her out," He assures his best friend, realizing that there's a large possibility that Y/N and Stiles are more than friends. He's surprised they were able to hide it for so long, surprised he never picked up on it.

"I had to put dirt on it. I didn't know where they were, or what was going to happen." Stiles is rambling while Scott helps them stand. "I don't even know if it helped but I couldn't just sit here and let them find us." Y/N is groaning and crying out and finally Scott just picks her up, knowing he has to move.

"You did what you could, Stiles." He tells his best friend, the two of them rushing to get back to the Jeep.

"Stiles," Y/N pants, jostling in Scott's arms as they reach the Jeep.

"It'll be fine." It's the only words Stiles knows, apparently. It's all he can think, because he doesn't even want to imagine any other possibility. He lets Scott put Y/N in the back seat and then climbs in after her, which surprises Scott. He's rarely ever been allowed for drive the jeep, and he realizes now that Y/N and Stiles might be closer than he originally thought. The theory that Stiles has been keeping his girlfriend a secret from his best friend makes him upset, but he knows this isn't as important as keeping Y/N alive.

"Here," He's taking off his sweater and handing it to Stiles to hold to her leg. They both know that they're pushing the dirt in and risking infection, but it's worth it to keep her from bleeding out.

"Y/N," Stiles mutters as he pushes her hair back, trying not to notice how pale she's become. "Hey, baby," He smiles when she opens her eyes.

"I'm bit," She tells him once more, her voice scratchy. She takes shaking breathes, eyes locked on her leg. "Oh my God," She's shaking, the fear in her eyes causing Stiles' heart to jump.

"It'll be okay, I promise. I'm right here." He looks down and sees the blood soaking through Scott's jacket, which makes him uneasy.

"I didn't want this," She cries, causing Scott to squeeze eyes shut.

"I know, I know," Stiles pushes some of her hair off her forehead.

When they get to the hospital, Melissa is waiting outside. She's clearly nervous as Scott gets her out, looking around as they get Y/N on a gurney and rush her in, trying not to be seen by others.

"What happened?" Melissa asks, getting Y/N hooked up to machines. When Stiles pulls the jacket away, she gasps.

"I was bit," Y/N's a little out of it, which worries Stiles. Her blinks are slow.

"Why isn't she healing?" Melissa grabs things she needs to clean and suture the wound.

"We don't know." Stiles answers, gagging as Melissa begins cleaning the blood away.

"We need to get this wound closed, because I can do a lot of things for you guys but I cannot steal blood." She takes a deep breath as she looks at her tools. "I can't steal any drugs to numb your pain either." She's very positive Y/N will pass out before she gets too far into it anyway. 

"I can help." Scott puts a hand on Y/N's leg. Melissa nods before beginning her stitches. Y/N doesn't even have the chance to feel the pain because Scott is already taking it, veins darkening as he breathes deeply to not show how much it hurts. Y/N wishes she could thank him, but everything is heavy. 

"Her eyes are closing." Stiles is freaking out only slightly. He moves closer to her head, trying not to look at the mess that was her leg.

"Try to keep her awake." Melissa instructs. It's the last thing Y/N hears before she gives herself up to the darkness.

~

"Why didn't you tell us?" Y/N hears Malia ask through some fog.

"We were worried you guys would get all weird." Stiles answers.

"What does that even mean?" Lydia asks, and Y/N tries to force her eyes open. She can't quite do it.

"You guys always get strange when two people in the pack start dating! And no offense, but it was so awkward when Malia and Scott broke up. We didn't want to go through that again." She's finally able to open her eyes.

"For the record," She starts, voice scratchy with misuse. "Our last argument was about the fact that I didn't want to hide it." She starts coughing, and everyone is at her side, asking a million questions. She doesn't pay attention to anyone else, only watching her boyfriend's face as he realizes that she's awake and okay. 

"Oh my God." Stiles is holding her close, tears in her eyes that make her emotional.

"I'm okay," She whispers, still weak but squeezing Stiles with all her might. "I'd never leave you." It breaks the dam and Stiles begins crying into her, knee up on the bed to steady himself.

"I'd never let you." 

//

tags: @tbsimp @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @mcueveryday

[lethalchiralium]

Obvious | Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

a/n: do i want to make riot a fem reader? yes. am i going to right now? nah. i love riot and ghost and their stupid lil situationship

summary: Ghost really hates your decision making since you’re apparently only known for making bad decisions.

warnings: MENTIONS OF INJURY. mentions of medical attention, cussing, ghost and riot fighting because ghost is angry,,,, let me know if i missed anything!

Previous part here! Next part here!

“Riot, you should probably not be a medic anymore with how much you get hurt.” Ghost chuckled a little as he kicked in the little office door in the abandoned warehouse. You struggled to keep standing up as you leaned against the wall beside the door, clutching your chest.

“It’s not my fault that they ambushed us.”

“You’re the one who jumped out of the car to tackle that guy.” Ghost grumbled in response, clearing the very small office before turning around to look at you. Your ribs were on fire. “I had it handled.”

“Be grateful I even decided to help you.” You muttered as you ‘waltzed’ in, gracelessly falling onto your ass next to the wall and letting out a weak groan. “How long until evac?”

“Don’t know, not with this weather.” He answered, pulling his cloak over his head and kicking the door closed with his foot - moving to crouch in front of you. Your back was against the wall now, your ribs and head on fire and making it hard to breathe. Not to mention the intense cold from the winter of Siberia making everything feel worse. “Take off your gear.”

You let out a strangled breath. “Help me. Fuck-“ Your arms began to try to dig for the straps of your vest, but Ghost had beaten you there. His hands gripped the clips, unbuckling your bulletproof vest and releasing the pressure on your ribs, making you almost screech in pain, hitting the back of your head against the wall so hard that you thought you broke it. If you weren’t crying before, tears definitely left your eyes now. Ghost didn’t even bat an eye at your tears, only roughly pulling the vest over your head and tossing it away. His hand curled around the back of your neck, pulling your head away from the wall and forcing your head to lean down. “Ghost, that hurts-“

“You just split open your scalp, you imbecile.” Ghost snapped and roughly pulled your torso onto his lap, causing you to almost scream and punch him right in his stupid mask. One of his gloved hands held a firm grip on your jaw and the other moved hair around your scalp, investigating the self-induced injury you just caused. Your scalp was bleeding now, an inch long laceration to your head. He sucked in a breath, taking his hand from your jaw and ripping off the medical kit on his own vest.

He opened the pack, tearing off his tactical gloves and trading them for a pack of sterile medical gloves. “You weren’t shot, were you?”

All you could muster was a small groan, shaking your head a little as your chest was still draped on Ghost’s lap. Your hands laid flat against the floor, you were focusing on trying not to scream in absolute pain because of your bruised or cracked ribs - you didn’t know and didn’t much care because you hurt so fucking intensely. It was like a train was constantly running over your chest, burning your torso with a pain you couldn’t even vocalize.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?” He chuckled, cleaning the head wound but you didn’t even react, all of your attention was on your ribs. “Jumpin’ out of a speeding car to tackle the guy on my back was fucking stupid.” He assessed the damage again, now that there wasn’t as much blood. He began to open a bandage. “You could have gotten yourself killed, not to mention me. We almost died on the way down the damn mountain - you’ve almost mortally wounded yourself. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need you to kill yourself because of me?”

You sort of laughed, it wasn’t much of a laugh but a wheeze. “Four.”

“Exactly. Four times I’ve told you that you need to stay safe,” He placed the bandage on the wound, pressing it gently down to adhere to a part of your scalp and hair. “That you’re a valued part of the team. You need to start getting that through your damn skull.” He then pulled you up from his lap, making you look at him. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You answered, closing your eyes and trying to control your breathing now that you were sitting straight up. “Fuck.”

“I know your ribs hurt - they aren’t broken,” He murmured, hands gentle now on your sides. “What else hurts? You need to tell me.”

“Nothing.”

Ghost nodded, before he grabbed his cloak and quickly shuffled it over your head. You could barely even care as he pulled it down your body, covering you up.

“‘m cold.” You mumbled, not opening you eyes and Ghost hummed.

“I know, darlin’.” That’s when his hands moved to your shoulder and hand, trying to guide you down to lay with him, but you grunted in response.

Your arm went out and pushed away one of his. “What are you doing, Simon?” You opened one eye, eyeing Ghost like he was trying to do something he shouldn’t.

His own eyes narrowed. “We need to stay warm. It’s well below freezing out there and it won’t be any better in here.” You shook your head in response. “I fucked you seven ways from Sunday the other night and you’re saying that you don’t want to lay with me?”

You shook your head. “We’re working.”

“Yeah, I’m working on trying to keep you alive. Lay down.” He gently grabbed your shoulders, but your hands stopped him.

“Your vest. It’ll hurt.” Your eye closed again, trying to keep breathing evenly. “And you need to sit up.”

Ghost sighed, beginning to pull off the weapons and packs he had on the front of his vest, setting them beside him. He pulled out knives, extra mags, a pistol - he didn’t even bat an eye at his vest as he did so, only staring at you as you took deep breaths. “What are you doing?”

“Clearing my lungs.” You answered, feeling as Ghost pushed himself and you towards the wall, sitting against the wall now. “Fuck.” You opened your eyes now, turning yourself away from Ghost as you moved to settle in between his legs, very gently laying your back against his chest.

“Why are you mad at me, Riot?”

You let go of another deep-ish breath. “I’m not mad.”

“Try again.”

It was a little while before you answered as you had took another deep breath. “I am trying to make sure I don’t hurt myself anymore, that is what I am doing, Simon.”

Silence began then, Ghost’s regloved hands found themselves underneath the cloak on your body, they settled right on your stomach. All you could focus on was your ribs, your hands settled on top of his - on the cloak. Your leather gloves felt suffocating but you were freezing, you squeezed his hands and whimpered in pain.

You rolled your head back onto Ghost’s collarbone, looking up to meet his straightforward gaze. “I am tired, in pain, and I’m mad that you don’t care that I care about you.”

His head moved down, his hazel green tinted eyes met yours and you felt like melting again. It was like he was setting you on fire with such a hardened gaze, and definitely not in a way you were used to. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t get why I fucking jumped out of the safety of the car with my Captain and Sergeant for you?” You scoffed and coughed, forcing your head down and covering your mouth with one hand. “You told me months ago that you couldn’t live without me. It’s the same for me.”

“You will always have someone pining for you, someone will always love you.” He answered, his hand ripped from your clutch. “You can live without me, you can be loved by someone else that isn’t me.”

“Ghost-“

“I am not finished, Sergeant.” Ghost seethed, his hand now settled upon yours. He held onto it, squeezing it tighter than he has before. “No one has ever given me the time that you have. Ever. Not a damn glance, not a damn spare moment. They look at me with fear, adoration, with anger. Agony. No one has ever given me a chance.”

“Except me.”

Ghost leaned down a little, setting his chin right above your ear. “Except you, doll.”

If you had a little more patience, you would’ve let him finish. But the fire that burned your chest needed you to get this out now before it felt worse. “No one will ever be you, Simon. I may have men lined down the block, but no man will ever have faith in me like you do. Ever have trust in me like you do.” You coughed again, covering your mouth. “Now, shut up with the self-deprecation and let me sleep.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“I’m the medic here. Shut up and let me sleep.”

••••

Dawn had not graced the Earth the next morning before Ghost had both his and your pistols loaded when he heard faint voices. Nothing he could make out, the wind too loud. With you sound asleep and almost feverish on his chest, he couldn’t place you down due to who damn cold it was. So he had to keep his back to the wall, eyes straight ahead to the doorframe, waiting for the door to hit the wall and the enemy to get a couple fatal bullets.

He made an evac call when the wind had died down hours ago but it had picked up again, of course he couldn’t hear anything on his receiver since it was busted from the fall - so he just had to be patient and hope that the enemy wouldn’t catch onto his location.

Lights gazed through the window on the door, momentarily lighting up the office. Ghost’s hands grew taut with anticipation, waiting to roll you off of him to protect you. The light glazed onto the door without moving away but moving farther into the room before Ghost heard the jiggle of the knob. His arms didn’t register the ache of staying in the same position for four minutes, his grip tightened again as the door was then kicked in and the flashlight was pointed on him.

“Price! I found ‘em!”

“Soap?” Ghost mumbled, dropping his hands, almost hitting you. The flashlight lowered and Ghost could see Soap’s face, looking ever so concerned.

“LT, are you okay? What’s wrong with the Sergeant?”

“Bruised ribs, probable concussion, head laceration and a fever that’s lasted a few hours.” He answered as he then saw another flash of light on the wall, then Price came into view. Both men looked incredibly concerned. “We’ve got to get Riot to medical, gettin’ colder.”

Soap immediately kneeled down, placing his hands under your shoulders and pulling you off of Ghost, allowing Ghost to stand quickly and gather his gear again. He picked up your vest and handed it to Price, who immediately questioned, “Why doesn’t Riot have this on?”

“Bruised ribs, sir. Couldn’t breathe.” Ghost answered before turning back to Soap, holding his arms out. “Give me the Sergeant.”

“No, LT, follow Price and get in the heli.” Soap nodded towards the door.

“Give me Riot.” Ghost growled, Soap was very quick to hand you back to him. Ghost held you very close to his chest as he then followed Soap and Price out of the office, out of the abandoned warehouse, and to the evac helicopter.

And even when they arrived back on base, the Lieutenant didn’t leave your side. Didn’t let the doctors kick him out, stayed by your side until you woke up again. Just like the last time, and he planned on staying by your side for the rest of his life.

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[sarahs-secrets2]

Obvious (Phillip Graves x Reader) ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

request here, i love writing fluff for graves sosososo cute

loosely based on obvious by Ariana Grande

fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: pet names, just fluff

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Your heels clicked through the empty hallways of the Shadow base as you made your way to your boyfriend's office. Rounding a corner you stumbled back almost bumping into two of the Shadows. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you immediately apologized, even though it wasn't entirely your fault. 

“No need to apologize, ma’am, where are you headed? Maybe we can help you?” one of the boys spoke up, he was trying to be polite in asking why you were on base. You and Phillip kept things pretty lowkey so you didn't expect anyone to know you just off first glance. 

“I’m just heading to Phillip’s office, I wouldn't mind the escort though,” you smiled widely at the group.

The shorter of the two chimed in, “The Commander? What’s the reason for the meeting?”

The military lingo made you giggle considering you were just bringing your boyfriend lunch. You eyed the boys and then looked down at the bag you were carrying. You tipped it open so they could see the aluminum-covered plates and water bottles. “Just lunch, better hurry though I wouldn't want it to get cold,” you began to walk past them before they jogged ahead of you to escort you to the Commander’s office. 

As you approached you shot Phillip a quick text letting him know you had some company joining you. The boys knocked on the door as you all waited for Graves to open it up. 

“Well looks like the two of you met my girlfriend already, c’mon in,” Phillip laughed as he leaned against the door. Both Shadows walked in first leaving you in the hallway. 

“Phil.” you smiled taking him in, it had been a few weeks since you had seen him. He was in casual clothes, sporting a bulletproof vest on top of his classic button-up. He was prepared for anything at all times. He smiled back, he was still the same Phillip, handsome as ever. You noticed a new scar on his face, extending from his ear down across his cheek. Your hand cupped his cheek as you thumbed over the scar frowning. “What happened?” you pouted.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’, I’m alright,” he opened his arms up, “I missed you, c’mere,”  pulling you in for a hug and placing a kiss on your head. Your arms wrapped around his torso, taking a deep breath and feeling at home within his grasp. A cough from one of the Shadows brought the both of you back to reality. Graves laughed as he placed a small kiss on your lips before shutting the door behind you. 

“Hope these boys didn't give you too much trouble,” his hand rested on the small of your back as he escorted you to his chair behind his desk, only the best seat for you. Without having to even ask, Phillip slipped the bag of food out of your hands and onto the desk, being the doting boyfriend had become second nature to him. 

“Only doing what you taught them,” you winked over at the Shadows who sat on the couch opposite the desk, you could tell they were nervous, especially seeing their Commander in such a relaxed way. 

You leaned back in the chair, Phillip coming up behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders slowly massaging them as he leaned down close to your ear, “You need anythin’ doll?”

“I’m perfect thank you,” you smiled up at him before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Commander, we don't want to interrupt anymore, we can head out,” the two Shadows stood up apprehensively. 

“Aw, you boys sure? I brought enough food,” your hand went to rest on Phillip’s which was still on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered between the Shadows and the food and then back at Phillip, silently hoping he would back up your offer. You didn't get to visit the base often, so you wanted to leave a good impression and you hoped Graves would help you out. 

“I don’t wanna hold you both hostage here, go ‘head,” he motioned to the door allowing the pair to leave, “I’ll see you both at the briefing later,” you rolled your eyes sarcastically as Graves shut the door, leaving the two of you alone.

“So much for getting to know them,” you laughed as you cracked open a water bottle. 

“Sue me for wanting to spend time with my lovely girlfriend then,” he chuckled as he flopped down onto the couch reaching for the bag of food.

“Sue me for wanting to leave a good impression,” giggling as you teased Phillip back. He raised his eyebrows back at you trying to hide his smile as he handed you one of the plates of food. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

The door shut behind the two Shadows as they stood silently outside the door trying to process what they just witnessed. Never had they seen this side of their Commander, he was always strict, professional, and they could never even imagine him having a soft side. 

“We gotta tell the others,” 

“Would they even believe us? Commander havin’ a girlfriend, and did you see how he was with her?”

“I swear this is the twilight zone or somethin’ dude,”

The boys went on and on about the scene they just witnessed as they headed down to the common area to fill everyone in on the secret side of their Commander, Phillip Graves. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

“Well I should get going, I don’t want to keep you locked up in your office all day,” 

“I wouldn't mind that though,”

“Mhmm I know,” you walked over to Phillip, his hands resting on your waist, “Thanks for letting me come for lunch,” 

“You’re always welcome doll,” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “Want to say bye to everyone?” you nodded as Graves led you out of his office and towards the common area.

Walking down the halls Phillip had his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him. As you approached the others you just caught the end of the conversation being had by none other than the two Shadows who were just in Graves’ office earlier.

“-it was like he was a whole different person I swear,” 

Phillip cleared his throat interrupting the conversation, “Shadows,” everyone’s attention immediately going to the Commander. “I'm sure you all heard, word travels fast here I suppose,” his eyes shot over to the two boys, “This is my lovely girlfriend, I’m hopin’ to get her out here more but she wanted to say ‘Hi’ before she headed out for the day,” he went on as his hand lightly rubbed your back. 

“Hi everyone,” you smiled and waved to the group, “Phil has told me so much about you all so I just wanted to introduce myself,” a slew of ‘Hi’s’ floated through the crowd in response.

“Well, I gotta let her get home,” he kissed your cheek as he continued, “I’ll see y’all for the briefing once I get back, heard?”

A unanimous “Yup yup,” was heard loud and clear as you and Phillip waved bye and headed out. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

“Do you think they liked me?” you and Phillip's hands were intertwined as you walked to your car.

“Of course they did doll, how could they not?” he squeezed your hand lightly as you approached the car finally. You unlocked it and opened the car door but didn't get in yet. “Thanks for comin’ to see me today and bringin’ lunch,” Phillip smiled.

“Thank you for letting me come spend the afternoon with you, I know you’re busy,”

“I’ll always make time for you,” he pulled you in for a hug. After a few minutes, you pulled away, standing up on your tiptoes and kissing him. 

“I’ll see you soon,” you winked as you hopped in the car.

“See you soon love,” Graves stood and waved as you left the base, already counting down the minutes till he could see you again.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

disclaimer i didnt proofread bc im so tired, i will in the morning