#never change - key glock
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He’s in the middle of the checkout line when the phone in his pocket buzzes. He ignores it at first, but a glance towards the fifteen year old employee lazily scanning the items of the first of five in line, him being the sixth, tells him it won’t be any time soon before he’s there. He checks his phone, eyes widening when he sees, “SOS” written across the screen. And from Price’s wife no doubt. Three jars of pickles shatter on the floor along with a bag of chips and a pack of ground beef, and he sprints for the exit, car keys already in his hand as he prays nothing is wrong with her.
It’s about twenty minutes before he gets to Price’s flat and pulls into the driveway, already scanning for any signs of struggle or attack. There are none visible so far and he grabs the glock he has in the glove compartment for emergencies before he gets out and runs for the door, banging on it. Footsteps sound behind it followed by a baby’s cry and the door pulls open to reveal Price’s dearest wife, disheveled in dirty clothes and tangled hair (he’s like eighty-seven percent sure there’s baby vomit in it), with swelling tears in her own eyes as she holds a screaming eighteen-month-old.
She takes one look at him before breaking down much like her son, blubbering loudly, “I can’t get JJ to stop crying, Simon.” Tears are streaming down her face as she cries, “I’ve tried everything to get him to stop. I’ve tried feeding, burping, napping, changing his diaper, everything. He just won’t stop.” She reaches out with her free hand to him. “Simon, please, I can’t stop him from crying. Help me.”
SOS, indeed, he thinks and immediately puts the safety on his gun, putting it on the side table as he steps inside, takes the baby, and closes the door behind him. JJ stops crying as soon as Simon starts hushing him and muttering, “Giving your mum trouble, ay? What are we gonna do about you, Banshee?”
JJ’s cries subside as he coos at the masked man and she starts crying harder. “How’d you do that?” she bawls. “Oh God, I’m a horrible mum. I can’t stop him from crying ever. Only Jonathan can. He never cries when Jonathan is here. Only when I’m with him.” she’s almost inconsolable, rubbing harshly at her eyes as she blubbers, “He hates me. My babe hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Simon sighs and gently takes her in his free arm, putting his chin on her head to calm her more; he rubs her back. “It’s okay, mum” he murmurs. “Newborns aren’t easy. Gotta take it in stride.” He looks at her. “Why didn’t you call Price?”
“Because he’s so busy,” she cries into his black sweatshirt. “He’s so good with him when he’s home and I know when he goes into work, he’s busy and I don’t wanna disturb him.”
“He’s JJ’s dad. Besides, don’t lump the old man in with other men. He’s a good one.” Simon pulls back, free hand wiping her tears. “I’ve gotta treat you like Soap, don’t I?” she only looks at him as his fingers brush her under eyes. “Go eat and shower. I’ll take care of JJ for you.”
She quietly nods, lips pulled in a upside down “U” before she leaves, disappearing into the kitchen. He starts bouncing JJ lightly, talking to him. “Bub, you gotta stop being a banshee to your mum. You’re gonna drive her crazy. And if you drive her crazy, your dad is gonna go crazy and then I’m gonna go crazy.” JJ just laughs and tugs at the strings of his sweatshirt before seeing if they’re edible.
Simon walks to the kitchen and watches as she stands in front of the refrigerator and shoves food into her mouth. He almost laughs, almost, as the memory of a drunk Soap shoving roast beef out of the pack and into his mouth comes to mind. Still though, he watches as she eats until she’s no longer hungry, then bypasses him and goes to her bedroom. The shower starts after a while. It’s almost two hours before she comes out and peeks her head from the doorway.
Simon is there with JJ, playing with a stuffed action figure Gaz had gotten him when he was born, making up stories about himself taking out enemies. JJ is enjoying it, giggling along and she smiles sadly before closing the door.
***
Price gets home around seven-thirty and when he sees Ghost’s car in his drive, he’s confused and a little concerned as he walks through the front door. Setting his things down, he walks around the corner into the den and Simon is there on his couch watching some show about ancient warriors and weapons, JJ drooling onto his sweatshirt.
“Simon?” he calls, and the man lifts the remote in a greeting. “Where’s—”
“Bed. Asleep,” he interrupts. “Been asleep since two.”
Price walks into the bedroom and sees her curled up on his side of the bed, clutching his pillow; he smiles at the sight and closes the door, walking back into the den. “How long have you been here, Simon?”
“Since eleven-forty-five.” He rubs JJ’s back. “Little guy’s been driving her crazy. Crying on her.”
“Shite,” Price curses. “She kept saying everything was fine.”
“Oh no, she’s lying. Thinks she’s a bad mum ‘cause he cries so much with her.” He looks over. “I think he just likes us soldiers, yeah?”
The old man sits beside down on the floor and gently runs a hand through the brown hair on his son’s head. “Yeah, never cries when I take him in.”
“You want me to take him for a few days so she can rest?” Simon offers. “Me and the Banshee will have a good time.”
“I don’t think she’d mind that. Well, she might. She’s awfully protective of the lad.”
“Of course. It’s her babe.” Simon inhales and exhales. “Give me a blanket, yeah? May as well stay the night.” Price nods and rises, handing him a blanket before reaching for JJ and Simon swats at him. “Hands off my godson.”
“He’s my kid,” Price argues and Simon glares at him.
“And I’m holding him. Try tomorrow if you can pry him from me.”
Price rolls his eyes but raises his hands in defeat, content to kiss JJ’s head and, “I love you, son,” before he squeezes Simon’s arm and disappears into the bedroom to cuddle his wife and sleep peacefully.
#john price x reader imagine#john price x reader imagines#john price x reader#john price imagines#john price imagine#captain john price#john price#price x reader imagines#price x reader imagine#price x reader#price imagines#price imagine#price#captain price#simon riley imagine#simon riley imagines#simon ghost riley#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#simon riley#cod imagines#cod imagine#cod#call of duty imagine#call of duty imagines#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#mw2 imagines#mw2 imagine
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Keep The Wolves Away 1
AO3
~*~
She wanted to cry. Fuck, did she ever want to cry but it felt like she had used up all her tears in the last twelve hours and her tired red rimmed grey eyes could shed no more tears as the red and blue lights flashed silently in the rear view window.
Lana just wanted to cry.
Over ten hours she has been driving, ten hours almost non-stop with only one major break to full up the gas tank with what little cash she has on her all while ignoring the pitiful looks the young teenage girl was constantly shooting her as she rang up Lana's total.
She was less than ten minutes away from Bozeman, less than ten minutes away to where she could finally feel safe for the first time in a decade.
So close, so fucking close and yet her past had finally caught up to her.
Clenching her fist until her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel from the grip, Lana knew exactly why the cop in the extended cab truck behind her was taking as long as he was; he was running the Washington state plate on the back of her old beat up red Ford F-150 with its own extended cab. There were many things Lana was and stupid was not one of them and she knew that as soon as Mark had gotten home, saw she was gone and so was her truck - and it was her truck. She had bought and paid for this truck with her own hard earned cash. The only reason his name was the only one of the pink slip was because he convinced her it was better for the insurance if it even had insurance because she knew the tags had expired on it long ago. It didn't explain why he hid her keys to it on her but thankfully she never told him she had found them one day well cleaning, keeling that information to herself in case...well...just in case.
The only real question she had was how long did he wait to put the call in to say either someone had stolen his truck or his crazy girlfriend was off her meds and had stolen his truck.
She wasn't fucking crazy no matter how many times he would tell her she was or how many times he would take her to doctors and try to get her on meds Lana knew she didn't need.
Her eyes flicked to her left, to the driver's side view mirror, as she heard the crusher door finally open and gravel crunch under heavy foot steps. In the dark, she couldn't really make out what the officer looked like but the headlights coming from the truck illuminated the officers silhouette enough that Lana could see they had one hand on their standard issued glock as their free hand, the one not on the gun, came up to silently tap the back of her dirty truck.
Lana let out a quiet sigh, flinching as her throat grated in pain at the very action, before sinking back into her seat as her eyes slowly trailed away from the reflection in the side-view mirror to the passenger seat where a lone picture - one of only four things she had made sure to grab in her mad dash out of the house and into her truck that hadn't moved in months - stared up at her.
She couldn't even recognize herself in that image.
Ten years could really change a person.
How much had her family changed?
It was a picture from a happier time, a time where she could smile and laugh without worrying if she was being too loud, where she could dance in the kitchen with mix-match socks to music she liked and not have to worry about anyone judging her for her taste in old country songs, and a time where she didn't have constantly look over her shoulder. She was happy in the picture; a wide smile on her face even if she was sat profile in the picture, grey eyes shining, blonde hair glowing in the late day sun and even held up in a loose ponytail it still ended at the middle of her back, staring up at a blood bay horse trying to steal the ten cowboy hat from off her head.
That girl in the picture was gone, long gone, and she was willing to bet all the money she had left in her pockets that the horse had been sold not even twenty four hours after she left.
She loved that horse. She loved her old life. Both were now gone like snow in the summer.
There is a knock at her window pulling Lana from her memories, the cop nearly blinding her already sore eyes, and causing her headache that had just been simmering in the back of her head to come rushing forward, with the shine from his - and she could finally make out that it was an older male officer, slim build and with nearly a completely bald head - flashlight. It might have started to just turn light out, the sky turning from a deep black to a mix or purple and red hues, so the flashlight was not just there for show, it did still have some use in the situation besides blinding her.
"Ma'am, turn off the vehicle and step out of the truck please." His voice was muffled but Lana could still hear it in the deathly silent cab of her truck. The radio had died years ago, static being pretty much the only thing you could get out of the old sound system, and Mark had never let her take it in to be fixed, always claimed that why should they fix something they never used. Honestly, she was surprised he never sold her truck but maybe it was only because he could never find a poor fool to take it off his hands so it sat in their backyard under a tarp rusting away in the elements.
All the better for Lana anyway, him not being able to off load it into someone else's hands gave her a means of leaving Seattle.
Doing as the officer asked, but not before making sure to grab her wallet from the centre console and picture from the passenger seat, Lana slowly slid out of her truck with a wince of pain she couldn't try to smother away, crossing her arms over her chest to try and stave off the cool Montana breeze coming through so late at night while making sure to still have a good hold on all that she had left in the world.
She tried not to react as the officer - in this county he was really more of either a deputy or sheriff but she hadn’t been back in a deputy so she couldn’t say off the top of her head what his rank was - let out an audible 'Shit' as he took in the whole sight of her.
Lana hadn't looked in a mirror before she left home, ten years of practice avoiding her own reflection made her an expert of avoiding her own image in mirrors, but she knew it wasn't good. Hell, it was probably the worst it had ever been which explained why it took ten years for her to finally take off as she did. There was not a part of her that wasn't screaming in pain, the fact she had even made it ten hours driving was a miracle in itself. She was half surprised her raging headache hadn't caused her to go speeding off a cliff.
Part of her wondered what would have happened had she stayed and waited for Mark to come back.
The officer motioned for her to walk towards the front of his vehicle and walk would have been an extremely generous term for what Lana was able to do. If she had to race against a turtle, she'd tell people to bet their money on the turtle. She made it though, made it to the front of the police cruiser where she was told to empty her pockets of everything she had - not much with just her wallet with no license because that had been one of the first things Mark had destroyed when they started living together in Seattle that he forbid her from ever replacing, keys, and picture. No cell phone, she had left that in the million pieces she had last seen it in on the floor of her home she shared with Mark.
Once shared with Mark, she wasn't going back, not when she was so close to where she had set her sights on.
"Do you know why I've stopped you tonight." Lana could tell that statement from the officer wasn't a question and all she could do was nod her head, eyes casted downward to not make any sort of eye contact with the officer and hands rubbing up and down her bruised and cut exposed arms to try to stay warm. When she ran out that front door, she hadn't even stopped to grab her sweater hanging on a hook just inside the house it was the last thing on her mind and she never even considered the idea that she might get pulled over in the middle of the night. Now, she wished she would have grabbed it just to stop shivering as she was.
Lana was silent for the pat down, suppressing her flinch as the officer hit a particularly sore part of her ribs that she thought was at least bruised if not entirely broken, didn't even make a peep of noise as her hands were placed behind her back and she was escorted to the back of the truck, and helped in with a hand on her head.
At least the officer had the heat going so she was no longer freezing in just her once midnight blue t-shirt stained with red spots and black shorts. She was dressed for a lovely night in, sitting on the couch and watching a movie after enjoying a home-cooked meal with the man she loved not driving for over ten hours constantly looking over her shoulder expecting another vehicle to magically appear out of thin air and force her off the road.
How she had even made it this far without getting stopped by police with some of the things she had done during her rush to get the Hell out of dodge was a mystery even to her.
He stood back from the still opened door, one hand just on the edge of the frame giving her an ample amount of distance as he began speaking, “We both know why I pulled you over tonight, surprised you got as far as you did.” It’s strange to hear that Montana twang again after so long, Mark would roll his eyes at her when Lana’s own twang came out. His friends in Seattle thought it was novel the way her mouth formed words, Mark didn’t after the first year. “But, I’m not a dumb man. I pull over a vehicle reported stolen out of Seattle and I find a woman in your condition driving it, doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together here. You been driving straight since Seattle?” She only nodded at his question, her whole body throbbing with pain now that she didn’t have to solely focus on driving.
The officer gave a deep sigh, looked down at the gravel beneath his boots and tapped his left toe into the ground as he continued on, “I need you to be honest with me now, do you need the hospital?”
She knew the answer he wanted, Hell she even wanted to give it to him. But a hospital meant questions, and questions meant a paper trail that could lead Mark right back to her and she did not drive all this way just to get pulled back to Seattle within twelve hours. “No.” Her voice was a rasp, the bruising on her neck not doing her any favours in trying to speak. “I just want to go home.” As raspy as her voice might have been, she still managed to choke out the words.
Home.
She hadn’t been home in so long.
Would her Dad even accept her back? God, she hoped so.
Home had been a place she cried about while locked in the spare bathroom back at her house in Seattle, locked away behind a false sense of security as Mark raged upstairs at her, yelling, screaming, breaking plates, shattering picture frames that once hung on the wall in the hallway before he stormed out, slamming the door behind him and leaving Lana to pick up the pieces and act like nothing wrong had ever happened.
How often had she sat in the bathroom, wiping away tears and blood, hoping - praying - that one of her siblings would show up out of the blue, one of the ranch hands would show up out of the blood, her father would show up out of the blue and see just what she had been going through ever since that day she packed up a duffle bag full of clothes, jumped into her truck, and ran off with her boyfriend because he said he would give her the world.
He lied, he didn’t give her the world he only took everything she ever had away from her.
This, this running away, was her way of taking something back.
“And where is home for you?” Lana shifted in her seat, rolling her shoulders back as far as she could go without pulling her already sore muscles before looking the deputy in the eye.
“Yellowstone Dutton Ranch.” She watched the way his face lost all colour, pale like fresh winter snow as she fixed him with a tired stare. “I’m Lana Dutton.”
*
John Dutton knew he was a politician, a rancher, a widower, and a father all in that order. A man does not become the owner of the largest cattle ranch in all of Montana without making a few sacrifices to get there, even if some of those sacrifices included his own children and grandchildren.
None of his kids could understand why he did the things he did, and he didn’t expect them or want them to understand for many more years until they were standing in his exact position planning for the future of the ranch that had been in the family for over one hundred and thirty years and he hoped that it would stay in the family for at least another one hundred and thirty more.
He rested against the fence to one of the round pens, just watching the sun crest the mountains on the horizon as the farm hands woke up to start doing morning chores. He had fond memories himself of working alongside his own father when he was a much younger man, and even fonder memories of working the farm with all his kids when all five were still living on the farm with him.
“Morin’, sir.” John barely cast a glance over his shoulder as, arguably, his most loyal ranch hand and wrangler came up on his right side and handed one of the two mugs of coffee the stocky and dark haired man was holding. Some days, John couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the man the once stocky and filled with more hate than smarts boy had become. He once asked his own father how he knew which ones to give the second chance to, he had just said it was a feeling that came with experience. John hadn’t known what he meant until he was watching a young Rip Wheeler scarf down a sandwich like it was the best thing he had ever eaten.
“Rip.” He greeted with a quick head nod, taking the offered mug and holding it in both hands. There was a slight chill in the early morning air, nothing wrapping bare hands around a warm cup of coffee couldn’t fix. “Beautiful morning.” As if to punctate his words there was a sound of hooves hitting solid wood from beyond the open barn doors behind them followed by a ‘Son of a bitch’ and a ‘Fuck you, Ares’ from his eldest son. Didn’t take a genius for him to figure out what had happened there.
Rip let out a dry cough of a laugh, “Never a dull mornin’ with Ares in the barn.”
“You can say that again.” John let out his own small chuckle of a laugh, turning with Rip to watch his oldest come storming out of the white and black lined horse barn behind them, cursing up a storm, hitting his tan well worn cowboy hat against his leg in anger. “He get you son?” John called out to his eldest Lee as the young man in question took notice of himself and Rip standing out by the pens.
Some days, John could swear it was like looking in a mirror to a time when he was a much younger man any time her looked at his sons Lee and Kayce, they both took after him so much it was hard to see any of their mother and his late wife whereas his two daughters were the exact opposite to their brothers; so much of their mother and not enough of him.
Lee held up his left arm, showing the rip in the sleeve of his shirt, “Nothin’ a needle and thread can’t fix.” He came up to stand just a few feet away from John, all three of them standing in the silence of the morning only broken up by the noises of the ranch waking up and the odd addition of hooves hitting a stall door. “When’s the farrier supposed to get here?”
“Tomorrow.” John took a sip of his coffee, still hot thankfully, as he addressed his son. He would take a walk through with Rip and Lee at the end of the day and make do a final count of who was getting their feet trimmed tomorrow, he already had a dozen horses lined up including Ares - much to everyone’s dismay of having to deal with the temperamental stallion - and it wouldn’t hurt to add more to the list if for any reason then to just make sure everyone was good for the next two months or so.
His own father would have gotten rid of the stud long ago, if the stallion was in a mood no one could get close to him - as Lee’s shirt sleeve was evidence of - and he always seemed to be in a mood these days. He wasn’t making the farm any money, hadn’t in years since no one could get close to him to bring him in and get a collection for a covering, and pretty much lived in a roughly five acre fenced in area of cattle pasture until there was a big snow storm coming or the farrier was coming down, then it would take a day to go out, catch the stallion, and bring him in for however long they needed.
“At least he didn’t lose his blanket this time.” Lee joked with them and they all shared a laugh at that painful memory. Just bringing in the stallion took at least three people and could last the better part of a day, trying to get blankets on and off the stud was an all hands on deck job.
Quiet moments like these, before the sun was high in the sky, while the wranglers were just getting the day started, was what made all the pain and frustration of the day to come worthwhile. Sure, there was cattle to move, fences to check, calves to brand, bills to pay, and fires to put out but they could be worries for him to deal with after her morning coffee.
Lee’s face pinched with eyes narrowed, “Sheriff comin’ up the drive.” His chin jutted out quickly in the direction of the house and, sure enough, John could just make out the yellow gold lettering for Park County Sheriff Department on the side of the black truck that was coming up the driveway and stopping at the front door of the main house. “Early start for him,” Donnie Haskell was easily identifiable to John from just his bald head, not that John was doing much better in the hair department. “What do you think the chances of this have something to do with Kayce?”
“Watch it.” He chastised lightly, tipping back his mug to finish off his mug of coffee, “He’s still your brother.” And that was a bridge he himself was trying to rebuild after burning it into nothing with his own hands. There were not many things he regretted in his life but driving his own son away to the point where he barely saw his first grandchild and grandson.
Not that Lee was wrong, Kayce did seem to be his most trouble laden child. A bad penny that one was.
“I’ll go see what he wants.” It couldn’t have been good for Donnie to be here this early in the morning and John couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head that could immediately be traced back to his name or the farm. “Get chores done then take some boys up to the far fields and check fences." He didn't wait for Rip or Lee to respond to his orders knowing that they would follow without question as he started making his way up the path from the barns to the main house. It wasn't a long walk but it also wasn't a short one in the slightest.
Sure enough, it was Donnie standing and leaning against the front of his truck with brows furrowed and full of stress as he kicked at the gravel underneath his boots. "Sheriff." His voice was flat as he came up to stand a few feet from Donnie, eyes catching a quick glimpse of someone sitting in the back of the truck but not enough of that person to really make out noticeable features.
"John." There was stress in his voice and a hand running over his face did nothing to take away any of that stress. "Pulled over a truck this morning, reported stolen out of Seattle." If anyone was to ask John how this conversation with a man he once thought of as a friend was to start, it wasn't like this. "Probably gonna be too busy to get a tow out there until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. If it's not where I left it, east about ten minutes outside of Bozeman on the I-90 I'll just have to assume that someone stole it for parts." There was a look in Donnie's eyes as both men stared each other down and John knew that for all the blood between the both of them, Donnie was also trying to get a message through to the rancher without outright saying what that message was.
Stolen truck on the I-90, get rid of it for me.
"You get the driver?" John crossed his arms over his chest loosely, resting his weight back on his heels, his mug just held loosely in his hand by two fingers through the handle.
Donnie just nodded. That wasn't a good sign.
"What is-"
"It's not good, John." Donnie's voice was hard, as he cleared his throat roughly. "It might be the worst I've seen in awhile. She didn't want to go to the hospital and I can't force her there.” John’s eyes dart from Donnie’s worried ones to try and get a look at the girl that must be sitting in the back of the truck but the tinted window makes it hard, he thinks her hair might be a light shade of blonde and cut short to her shoulders but that’s about it. “I know how this usually goes, she’s not gonna want to press charges so I can’t do anything but at least a hospital can document it all, keep a paper trail for when she does want to press them. But, you need to convince her to go because you might be the only one who could make her go.” He pushes himself off the front of his truck, his own arms dropping to hang at his side as he makes steps to open the back door of his truck. “After all, she is your daughter.” There is a look in Donnie’s eyes as he says it but John can’t put a name on what the look is.
Daughter? Beth was supposed to be in Salt Lake City, not anywhere close to Bozeman and sure as Hell not getting caught driving a stolen truck; that would kill her career in a heartbeat. And if it was Beth, why would she be in Seattle of all places?
He should have know it wasn’t Beth in the back of the truck, should have known from the black of screaming and thumping of heels kicking the divider between the front and back seats, should have known it couldn’t have been Beth that stolen a truck in Seattle because he had just talked to his eldest daughter a few days ago before and she was heading to New York for a merger.
That didn’t matter though because he knew the young woman, the girl, his daughter, that Donnie helped out of the back of his truck with both hands to keep her steady as she hopped out because her legs were like a newborn colt only minutes old and standing for the first with how much they shook.
John locked eyes with her, the last time he had seen those grey eyes had been ten years ago when they had been full of hate and rage, glaring with fire as he told his daughter under no certain terms was he going to allow her boyfriend to move onto the ranch and live in the main house with her nor was he going to let her move off the ranch to live with her boyfriend where John couldn’t watch their interactions. He couldn’t put it into words she would understand, for as good a politician as he could be words failed him at that moment, he couldn’t find the right words to tell her that he didn’t like her boyfriend because there was something about him that made him uneasy and it didn’t matter how much she claimed they were in love, John would never change his opinion.
She was only eighteen, a prime example of the old adage about young love, and John fully expected that she would come to her senses in a few months and realize this Mark boy was not the man for her but instead, after both of them storming off and going to their separate bedroom on opposite sides of the main house, John had woken up that morning to find her closest empty and her truck missing from the drive.
His frantic phone calls just went to voice mail, as did the calls from all his other kids and from the ranch hands who had her number.
Ten years of silence.
No phone calls. No letters. No emails. No texts.
Silence.
None of that mattered. Nothing mattered mattered in that moment, not even how his mug shattered into piece as it fell from his hand nor how the sound of the sheriff truck door shutting was like a gun shot so early in the morning, because his youngest child, his youngest daughter, was finally home.
“Hi Daddy.” Her half smile was watery, as if it pained her to even make a full one, as Donnie helped guide her closer with a hand on her elbow and a hand on her back.
He let out the breath he was holding, “Lana.”
#yellowstone#yellowstone tv#rip wheeler x reader#rip wheeler x oc#keep the wolves away#chapter update#yellowstone fanfic
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✮ messages for pisces! ✮
all placements!
song: babygirl by maeta "babygirl deserves this"
heyyy pisces. if you're going through some sort of tension or conflict, just know that you're still going to make the progress you wish to see. try not to be too irritable, though. this could possibly ruin some opportunities that you may not want to ruin. you have the fire inside of you to get through whatever obstacles you see in the way, so don't discourage yourself or let fear get to you. people see you as competition right now, so be wary of anyone who is always trying to one-up you. do not trust this person(s) and please keep your blessings out of this person's ears. they definitely do not want to see you win and will want to mess up anything good you have going for yourself. the competition wants to test your faith and your boundaries. they want to see how far you will go and how much you can take. they want to see how tough you are and how quickly you can bounce back, or pick yourself up. the wheel of fortune is in your favor, pisces. "they cannot fuck with the legacy" "my enemies wanna be friends with my other enemies i don't let it get to me" it's literally your destiny to do whatever it is you're starting or wanting to start for yourself. these people wish it was their destiny, though. they'll try to take it away from you or keep you from getting there, but this is meant for you and they cannot stop the divine no matter how much they try. you will need to protect yourself regardless, though. they could try to delay your blessings or give you imposter syndrome. whenever they realize your success is inevitable, they will ask for your help and expect hand-outs from you. do not allow these people to call you greedy for saying no to them. if they weren't there during the journey then they shouldn't expect your help when you're at your destination.
song: highway one by tru heru "they say that they just overheard that i'm the underdog, no you misheard it, i'm a thunderbird and never heard of y'all. if you deserve it, i may demonstrate but it may burden y'all."
you may be introverted, or you just don't give your energy to too many people. you do this because you know your worth and you're aware that not everybody deserves your energy. your respect and love for yourself has been planted and grown so much, pisces. you may not have always been confident in yourself, but people can see that shit's changed and you see yourself as a divine being (as everyone should see themselves as.) i'm seeing that you could be over-spending at this time. try to save a certain amount of money every time you get paid or get money. this will help you to build on the side for the things that you need in the future. also, it's okay to give to others! i know i said not to feel bad about saying no to those who didn't believe in you, but it's perfectly fine to give to those have helped you on the way, and to those who are in need. you may think that taking a break from the grind will cause you a financial loss, but i promise that rest is just as important as taking action. if you continuously take action towards something for the sole purpose of income and not passion, you are more likely to burn out. which lasts longer; a candle that has never been blown out, or a candle that's used in moderation? once you take time to yourself and have a moment of peace, you will become more inspired and passionate about what you're doing! you will go farther than you would've if you never took a moment to relax.
song: check this out by key glock "major labels callin, got 'em watchin' like a scout"
(this part may not resonate with everyone) there could be someone in your life who is promising you love and they're very charming and someone you find to be very attractive... but there's something your intuition is telling you about this person that you're doubting. there are some things they're not telling you, pisces. they may come off as very sweet and trusting but this is part of their power; they're able to use their charm and looks to give you the wrong impression of them. if you feel like this person has been a bit manipulative, even if they seem too sweet to do this, please trust yourself and take a step back from this person's energy. they see that you are a very loving and abundant person, so it's natural that a person like them would take advantage of that. they know that you're destined for greatness and they want to be part of it. honestly, they want this for themselves, but you seem to be the way in for them at the moment. they are not aligned with you, even if they act like they are. you could possibly tell them your life goals and your morals and they'll agree with you, but they're not being truthful. you could say you'd like to be more well known so you can have a greater impact and they'll lie and say they want fame for the same reason, but really they just want the attention and the money. it's an ego thing for them. this person could possibly be your biggest competitor. they will keep secrets from you and try to make you insecure with little comments and maybe even by seeing other people or comparing you to others. this person is deeply insecure. they want everything to themselves but they truly don't believe in themselves, so they're going to leech off you, pisces. everything they want is going to be in your hands and they would snatch it from you if they could, but even if they did, it'd fall right through the cracks of their fingers. you are highly protected and this person doesn't understand that. please refrain from telling this person what you have going for yourself. keep your achievements to yourself and don't let them tell you what success is because they will never even achieve it themselves.
song: glow in the dark by tru heru "cause you just don't flow with me, so you just can't roll with me."
it's okay to doubt yourself sometimes, pisces. most people do doubt themselves at some point, but just know that you have the entire world in front of you. don't let yourself get too caught up in the opinions and progress of others. everyone moves at their own pace and in their own way. don't feel the need to do things that other people are doing because it's working for them. you have your own path ahead of you. you are not walking the same path as everyone else. you may be a bit self-conscious because people seem to be so ahead in their path, but please know that they're not going the same place as you. they're not going through the same obstacles or having to make all the decisions you're making. it's okay to ask for advice and help but if something doesn't align with you then don't make yourself do it. you should listen to circles by mac miller. my music is on shuffle and, of course, this song starts playing as i'm talking about paths lol. "well this is what it looks like right before you fall. stumblin' around, you've been guessin your direction, next step you can't see at all" and "don't put any more stress on yourself, it's one day at a time" really stuck out to me. you may need to work on your discipline, pisces. make a plan and try your best to stick to it. make sure you're giving yourself enough breaks and rest days, but try to remain consistent even on days you don't want to do it. don't rely on your motivation to keep you going. motivation is a feeling that comes and goes. instead, work on your discipline and rely on that!
song: dangerous by meek mill "under the stars since they throwing all that shade on us"
thank you for reading and interacting! <3
masterlist ⭑ personal readings ⭑ patreon
#pisces#pisces placements#zodiac#zodiac reading#pisces reading#messages for pisces#tarot#tarot reading
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Draped up and dripped out
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Three in the mornin', gettin' the gat out the stash spot
Drape-, drape-, drape-, drape-
Draped up and dripped out
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Three in the mornin', gettin' the gat out the stash spot
Drape-, drape-, drape-, drape-
I got five bullets left in my nine
Grain' at the Glock, looking to fuck up someone's spine
May not do this all the time
Yeah, I might be Cherry but my haters all pie
See the reaper smiling when you look me in my eye (In my eye)
Ridin' down my corner, got my Tony on me
My whip look like Captain Cream, inside pepperoni
Fleetwood day dreamin' but I'll never let em step up on me
Shoutout all my Florida and my Texas homies (My Texas homies)
Got my gut sticking out, I'm from fat city
Everytime I hit the block, the cops is acting piggy
Blanco never left the 7th Ward, from the Lake to New York
Yeah, you know I settle scores
I try to keep y'all up to date on my escapades
PS5 up in the Escalade, running down esplanade
Wock up in my lemonade, now them demons in my head to get some shade
Hold the tool out then look at the mess I made
I can't fix shit but my desire to get high
All my homies that have died, they all watch me from the sky
Life can be fucked up, but I'm glad to be here
Looking for the love, but instead I see fear
Shawty saw my dick, like when headlights meet deer
I told her "Turn around", then I pulled her rear mirror
I told her "Listen up, like you got like 3 ears
You my whole world, I can't even see spills"
Draped up and dripped out
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Three in the mornin', gettin' the gat out the stash spot
Drape-, drape-, drape-, drape-
Pull up player mackin'
Bought my bitch a Birkin
Whip self-park, gettin' head while I back-in
Mane, I'm getting paid just to sigh and breathe it back in
Used to cash change for some cigs, $5 on pump ten
Northside superstar (North!), pull up just to piss 'em off
Shawty see my bills, I said "This dildo what this kitchen cost"
Show you how to pimp a RAW, show you how to lick the cross
Playas up, suckers down, pussies I just kill 'em all
Pimpin' fours on 'em hoes, $lick don't usually talk a lot
Ridin' with some girls that turn your homie to a parking lot
Five up a Swisher Sweet, eyes looking bittersweet
Broken heart shawty, but it's yet to miss a fucking beat
Three in the morning, it's just me and Screw
Mane, too many thangs I wish that wasn't true
Mane, been pimping keys like I'm Stephen Hough
Germans growling sounding like a European zoo
What it do? Foreign 'Cedes and that Caddy set
Caddy for my dad, bought my girl a new Macan
Northern Lands, Southside, that's where I'll be dead (7th Ward!)
I'm on them beaches that's forever like I'm Warren Van
Still do the slide, gold in my mind
Ball on these hoes, like I'm Luka downtown, mane
One for the money, two 30's for pain
Xan' for my nerves, only way I stay sane, mane
W-What it do? Foreign 'Cedes and that Caddy set
Caddy for my dad, bought my girl a new Macan
Running down esplanade, running down esplanade, in the Escalade
Wock up in my lemonade, demons in-in-in my
What it do? What-what-what-what it-what it do?
Bla-Bla-Blanco never left the 7th Ward, never left the 7th Ward
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Hip-Hop/Rap Albums 2022
1. Conway the Machine – God Don’t Make Mistakes
2. Lupe Fiasco – Drill Music in Zion
3. Nas – King’s Disease III
4. A Boogie wit da Hoodie – Me Vs. Myself
5. Saba – A Few Good Things
6. Westside Boogie – More Black Superheroes
7. Freddie Gibbs – $oul $old $eperately (Bonus Edition)
8. JID – The Forever Story
9. Boldy James & Cuns – Be That As It May
10. Kendrick Lamar – Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers
11. Ab-Soul – Herbert
12. Method Man – Meth Lab Season 3: The Rehab
13. Nick Grant – Welcome to Loveland
14. Burna Boy – Love, Damini
15. Vince Staples – Ramona Park Broke My Heart
16. Jeezy & DJ Drama – Snofall
17. Westside Gunn – 10
18. Larry June – Spaceships on the Blade
19. Danger Mouse & Black Thought – Cheat Codes
20. Lloyd Banks – The Course of the Inevitable 2
21. YG – I Got Issues
22. Joey Bada$$ – 2000
23. Cordae – From A Bird’s Eye View
24. Apollo Brown & Philmore Greene – Cost of Living
25. Megan Thee Stallion – Traumatize
26. Wiz Khalifa, Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA, & Girl Talk – Full Court Press
27. Denzel Curry – Melt My Eyez See Your Future
28. Dizzy Wright & DJ Hoppa – Dizzyland
29. Royce Da 5’9” – The Heaven Experience Vol.
30. Snoop Dogg – BODR
31. The Musalini & 9th Wonder – The Don & Eye
32. Pusha T – It’s Almost Dry
33. Jalen Santoy – Without Hesitation
34. Drake – Honestly, Nevermind
35. Symba & DJ Drama – Results Take Time
36. Jack Harlow – Come Home the Kids Miss You
37. Bun B & Statik Selektah – Trillstatik 2
38. Key Glock – PRE5L – EP
39. EarthGang – Ghetto Gods
40. Young Dolph – Paper Route Frank
41. Kid Cudi – Entergalactic
42. Smino – Love 4 Rent
43. Drake & 21 Savage – Her Loss
44. Brockhampton – The Family
45. Tobi Lou – Non-Perishable
46. The Cool Kids – Baby Oil Staircase/ Chillout
47. Doe Boy – Oh Really
48. Dave East, Buda & Grandz, & DJ Drama – Book of David
49. Smoke DZA – 10,000 Hrs
50. Nigo – I Know Nigo!
51. Busta Rhymes – The Fuse Is Lit – EP
52. Wiz Khalifa – Multiverse
53. Ransom – Pain & Glory
54. Tee Grizzley – Chapters of the Trenches
55. Sy Ari Da Kid – The Shadow In the Shade 2
56. Roc Marciano & The Alchemist – The Elephant Man’s Bones
57. Mozzy – Survivor’s Guilt
58. Armani Caesar – The Liz 2
59. Action Bronson – Crocodilo Turbo
60. Earl Sweatshirt – Sick!
61. CyHi – EGOT the EP
62. Dreezy – HitGirl
63. Juicy J & Wiz Khalifa – Stoner’s Night
64. Logic – Vinyl Days
65. DJ Premier – Hip- Hop 50: Vol. 1 – EP
66. Paul Wall & Termanology – Start 2 Finish
67. Casey Veggies – Since Ya’ll Forgot – EP
68. 38 Spesh & Harry Fraud – Beyond Belief
69. Jay Worthy & Harry Fraud – You Take the Credit, We’ll Take the Check
70. The Cool Kids – Before Shit Got Weird
71. Boldy James & Real Bad Man – Killing Nothing
72. Dreamville & J. Cole – D-Day: A Gangsta Grillz Mixtape
73. Juicy J, Lex Luger & Trap-A-Holics – Crypto Business
74. Buddy – Superghetto
75. The Game – DRILLMATIC Heart Vs. Mind
76. Snoop Dogg & DJ Drama – Gangsta Grillz: I Still Got It
77. Future – I Never Liked You
78. Duke Deuce – CRUNKSTAR
79. Prodigy – The Hegelian Dialectic 2: The Book of Heroine
80. Payroll Giovanni – Back 2 The Ba$ics
81. Yo Gotti, Moneybagg Yo, & CMG The Label – Gangsta Art
82. Duke Deuce – Memphis Massacre II
83. Latto – 777
84. Metro Boomin – Heroes & Villains
85. RZA & DJ Scratch – Saturday Afternoon Kung Fu Theater
86. Cappadonna & Stu Bangas – 3rd Chamber Grail Bars
87. Mickey Factz & Ayo Shamir – It’s Only Us Here
88. Hodgy – Everyday People Change Into Someone
89. 38 Spesh – 7 Shots
90. Smoke DZA, Nym Lo, & 183rd – Driplomatic Immunity
91. Jay Worthy, Larry June, & LNDN Drugs – 2 P’z In A Pod
92. DJ Khaled – God Did
93. Casey Veggies – Crypto Veggies
94. Quavo & Takeoff – Only Built for Infinity Links
95. RZA & Bobby Digital – RZA Presents: Bobby Digital & the Pit of Snakes
96. Curren$y & Fuse – Spring Clean 2
97. Boldy James & Futurewave – Mr. Ten08
98. Westside Gunn – Peace “Fly” God
99. Mt. Westmore – Snoop Cube 40 $hort
100. Apollo Brown – This Must Be The Place
101. BigWalkDog – Trick City
102. Bas – [Bump] Pick Me Up – EP
103. Cam’ron & A-Trak – U Wasn’t There
104. Onyx – Onyx Versus Everybody
105. Blac Youngsta – 4Life
106. Leikeli47 – Shape Up
107. Tsu Surf – Disparu
108. Finesse2Tymes – 90 Days
109. 42 Dugg & EST Gee – Last Ones Left
110. Coi Leray – Trendsetter
111. EST Gee – I Never Felt Nun
112. Rico Nasty – Las Ruinas
113. TyFontaine – B4BMG: The Experience – EP
114. BlocBoy JB – Bacc 2 Da Bloc
115. Gucci Mane – So Icy Boyz 22
116. Lil Baby – It’s On Me
117. Post Malone – Twelve Carat Toothache
118. Gucci Mane – So Icy Gang: The ReUp
119. Vory – Lost Souls
120. Glorilla – Anyways, Life’s Great
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What Does a Compensator Do for Your Glock 17?
What Does a Compensator Do for Your Glock 17?
The Glock 17 created a revolution in the world of contemporary handguns. From its extreme simplicity to its reliability - to its ease of maintenance, there never has been a gun quite like the Glock. This is why military units and police as well as civilian firearm enthusiasts the world over, love the Glock so much.
However, it is possible to improve on perfection. Just like most other powerful handguns, the Glock also works on the locked barrel, tilt breech principle, which is why muzzle flip is inevitable. While the weapon’s low-bore axis helps to a certain extent, it still leaves a lot to be desired.
The weapon bucks every time you shoot, and it takes time to realign the sights and take the next shot. This reduces both speed and accuracy. However, you can mitigate the felt recoil by adding a compensator to your Glock.
This is a very simple barrel attachment. It is designed to ensure that you get back on target as soon as possible by reducing real and perceived recoil. A well-constructed compensator will also help increase muzzle control not just at the range, but more importantly, in a defensive situation. Your Glock compensator will help curb muzzle movement so that you will be able to take faster and more precise follow-up shots.
How Do Compensators Work?
As the very term implies, the compensator essentially ‘compensates’ for the violent reaction of rapidly expanding gases that propel the projectile towards its target. These gases push the pistol upward. The compensator channels these gases via its port holes. As the physical force of the shot pushes the muzzle, the compensator vents gases and pushes it down, thereby counteracting the force of the recoil.
This results in minimizing the movement of the weapon in your hand, especially during rapid-fire scenarios.
The HC9C 3.0 Micro Compensator by Herrington Arms
Herrington Arms have created the ultimate Glock Micro Compensator in the form of the HC9C 3.0. This small but highly effective compensator substantially reduces recoil when installed on the Glock 17. It will work seamlessly with Glocks 17/19/26 variants as long as they have 1/2-28 barrels and are GEN 2-5. It works perfectly well with stock OEM springs, so you don’t need to change anything in your carry weapon.
Key Attributes of the HC 3.0
Very small size micro compensator that won’t reduce the concealability of your weapon
Precision engineered to reduce recoil so you can get right back on target faster than ever before
Constructed from 6061 durable aluminum for extra reliability
Its discreet size makes it easy to carry
Available in FDE Cerakote or black anodized finish to enhance the beauty of your Glock
Lifetime warranty
The Herrington Arms HC9C Glock 17 compensator increases the already amazing performance of your Glock. It helps make it the perfect weapon for both competition and real-world usage. Add this compensator to your Glock and see for yourself, how it increases your shooting speed and overall accuracy.
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https://herringtonarms.com/blogs/product-blog/what-does-a-compensator-do-for-your-glock-17
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KEY GLOCK : NEVER CHANGE
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shut in [1]
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Gender Neutral Reader)
Warnings: cursing, violence, guns, death
Word count: 3.2k
A/N: greetings. i have returned with a series that i have actually finished writing beforehand so i just have to post the chapters and yes this means i will not let this go incomplete
shoutout to my bitch @midnightsunfae for putting up w me mwah lov u
if i’ve completely butchered sam’s character, tell me so i can delete my entire account pls and thanks
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Shut In Masterlist || Main Masterlist
“Alexander Pierce.” The file fell on the table with a resounding thud.
“What about him?”
“I want him dead.”
The house stood tall; obnoxious, almost, with loud embellishments of gold. It screamed wealth spent lavishly and without any reasonable thought.
Also it was ugly.
You scaled the gate, landing on the gravel silently. There were no security measures that you could see beyond the automated entry and CCTV whose light wasn’t blinking. Must have been a power outage. An unlikely coincidence, but it just made your job easier.
You made a move towards the side of the house, staying close to the trees that lined the driveway, out of the direct line of sight of the house’s front door.
His car was parked outside; a swanky looking race car kept outside just for show. He was definitely at home.
A window at the side of the mansion was left slightly ajar. A quick sweep up the side of the house proved that the rest of them were shut.
Your eyebrow quirked up in suspicion, quickly taking a look around to see if you were being watched. For a few seconds the world didn’t seem to move, eerily silent other than the rustling of leaves.
Pierce was clearly the flagbearer of home security.
You stuffed your gun into the waistband of your pants, freeing both your hands to tug yourself into the room.
Your gun found its way into your hand once more as you scanned the room. He wasn’t on the bed. You deemed the silence as an indicator to safely to move ahead.
So far it seemed easy.
Too easy?
Ransone’s body was spread across his chair, leisurely stroking at his stubble. His other hand thrummed rhythmically at the timber in front of him. His eyes were glazed over; physically present but mind wandering elsewhere.
You waited for him to explain further, knowing better than to interrupt his train of thought.
He had the strangest penchant for drama and theatre. From what you could gather of the dim light in the room and his stance, he had just watched The Godfather. Again.
“Do you know how long it took me to build this business?” His words sounded like a musing, akin to a private thought he was letting you in on. “This empire, Y/N?”
“Twenty three years.” Your arms were crossed behind you, a sign of discipline he demanded from all members of the organisation.
“And I haven’t gotten there by being the neighbourhood church boy.” He gestured to one of the two men beside him, a rifle strung across their back at the ready. One of them-- Rumlow-- stepped forward, lighting a cigar and handing it to him.
He took a long drag, taking his time to exhale, flicking at the cigar to get rid of the loose ash. If he just got to the point, you could have left about twenty minutes ago.
“I’ve done terrible things,” he admitted, “but you know? I won’t be blamed for them. A bit of collateral damage was inevitable.”
His chair swayed from side to side as his feet thumped at the table. It annoyed you endlessly. You never told him.
“And you know how I feel about collateral damage, right?”
“Show no mercy.”
The house was silent, except for the faint sound of the television some distance away. You wouldn’t have been able to see if not for the moonlight that illuminated the space through the large windows.
Your gun pressed tightly to your side, you made your way down the open hallway. As you passed by the kitchen, the ticking of the timer on the oven made you pause. The oven itself wasn’t on but the clock was still ticking.
A bowl was kept on the marble island separating the rest of the hall from the kitchen. A pair of car keys lay mangled among a couple of dollar bills and loose change like he threw it in carelessly.
Continuing further down the hall, you came to the realisation that it culminated in a room that faced his backyard. Only a single glass sheet acted as a barrier between him and the outdoors.
You could hear the show getting louder, hidden from your line of sight by the couch in front of it.
Pierce’s head faced away from you and towards the only light source in the room. He hadn’t heard you come in.
From what you could see, he was asleep. Head slumped slightly, arm slinked over the backrest and no other movement.
It wasn’t actually a TV, just an iPad on its loudest setting with Netflix playing what looked like Horrible Bosses. A man with exquisite taste, obviously.
You took one step at a time, slowly making your way towards the couch until you were just a step or two behind him. You raised your arm, pressing your gun to the back of his head.
“Show no mercy,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he looked at you.
You wanted to shift under his stare. Your muscles were beginning to feel a dull burn, a sign that you had been standing still for too long.
“So tell me, after all my effort-” he stuck his bottom lip out mockingly- “should I let my fucking company get destroyed by one person?”
His hand harshly slammed down on the table as he lurched forward in his chair, eyes seething.
You nearly jumped at his sudden change in demeanour, knuckles tightening in anticipation.
“Tell me, boys, how far do I tolerate liars?” His stare didn’t waver, looking straight into your eyes.
“You don’t.” Their voices were eerily synchronised. You wondered if they ever rehearsed together. Probably did.
“Lovely.” Ransone smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t.”
“Liars?” Your voice had risen by an octave or two, your surprise catching you off guard.
“Someone has been sneaking information to Serpentine for nearly two years.” A chill ran down your spine, the muscles in your jaw tightening. “They’ve been growing exponentially and someone’s been helpin’ them do it.”
Only someone didn’t fear death would turn their back on him. Someone who had nothing to lose.
“We have reason to believe it’s Pierce.”
A moment passed where you expected him to wake up, turn around and look at you so that you could deliver Ransone’s message to him, a quippy one liner about betrayal or something.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his head shifted under the pressure of your gun, falling over as if it was weightless.
Your face pulled into a frown as you made your way to the front of the couch swiftly, gun still held tightly in front of you.
Your shadow dimmed the light that fell on him from the iPad, but it was impossible to deny.
A single gunshot to the front of his head. Eyes wide open, red from the lack of moisture. The blood around him painted a gory scene that was impossible to notice from behind.
“What the-” you murmured, lowering your arm.
“I can tolerate one mistake. Everyone deserves that.” Ransone shrugged offhandedly. “But this isn’t the first one he’s made.”
“So you want him gone.”
“That would be lovely, yes.” He relaxed into his chair once again, taking another hit from his cigar.
“Why do you want me to do it?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together. Generally he would send you for something more high-profile. Raids, infiltrations. These kinds of hits were what you left behind years ago.
“A spy has security from the ones they’re working for. It’s possibly more dangerous.” His feet found its way onto the table, one over the other as he stretched back. “And I’m not sure my other agent can make it.”
“Thanks,” you spoke monotonously. “Glad to know I’m your first choice.”
“Don’t take it personally.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “He probably won’t show.”
His sleeve fell slightly to reveal a sliver of his tattoo. A spider, the symbol of his authority.
Each of his employees had a web inked on their skin that grew with each passing year of their service. It was how you identified each other in passing.
“You have an opening on Friday. His house help leaves at 8 sharp and he’s alone.”
You nodded, picking up the file in front of him, avoiding his fingers that had returned to thrumming on the tabletop. You acknowledged the two men beside him before making your way toward the door.
This house was all the way across the country. No wonder he gave you a bit more time as compared to usual to prepare.
“It’ll be done.”
The sound of a gun clicking away from you made the hair on your neck stand up.
You sprung up, arms extended in front of you instinctively towards the sound.
Even in the dim light of the room, you could see a man standing a few feet away from you. His hand held a glock, aimed towards you.
Neither of you said a word. Time stood still for all you cared. The only indication that it didn’t was that Horrible Bosses was still playing.
“Who the fuck are you?” you finally asked, voice surprisingly calm for the adrenaline that was spiking through your body.
“Who are you?” he questioned in retaliation, tone curt.
“I asked first.” You wondered if he could see you roll your eyes.
He didn’t reply, obviously.
A beat passed and you almost forgot the dead body that lay near your knees. Almost. It didn’t help that his fingers were nearly touching your leg like some kind of pervert; not that you could blame him for it this time.
“Did you kill him?” he finally relented, mentioning towards him quickly with a tug of his shoulder.
“What-” You recoiled, head slightly jerking back in disbelief. “No. Didn’t you?”
“He was like this when I got here.” He paused, and you let him speak. “And then you came in; thought you were comin’ back to check.”
“I just got here.”
“I can’t confirm that.” His answer was instantaneous, almost cutting you off before you finished.
“And I can’t confirm you didn’t kill him.” You took a step away from Pierce, never breaking his gaze. “The odds are kinda against you here.”
“I didn’t kill him.” He only took a step toward you, making you stop where you were. He wasn’t going to let you get out of this.
“What a compelling argument,” you drawled sarcastically. “Then what are you doing here?”
“Cookin’ him dinner,” he snapped back quickly in a manner that would usually make you smile if it weren’t for the situation you were in presently. “What do you think?”
“Who sent you?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why did they send you?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Then give me a reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger right now.”
“You first.”
It was a shame you had to kill him. You found his resilience fun.
“Well, it was pleasant-” You were cut off by the sound of a bullet whizzing past your head. It struck the vase next to the couch, instantly exploding into hundreds of shards.
“Did you just fucking shoot at me?” you yelled, swiftly raising your gun so that it was pointed at his forehead.
But he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at the large glass, too distracted to pay heed to what you were saying.
You slowly followed his line of sight to the window.
A large fracture in the glass surrounded a small hole, nearly invisible from your distance if you weren’t looking hard enough.
You looked back at him to find him staring at you.
A split second later the glass sheet shattered, sending the pieces all over the room. You launched yourself behind the couch heavily, avoiding the barrage of bullets being shot your way.
From the corner of your eye you could see the man dive to take cover behind the couch with you.
“What the fuck?” you asked loudly, back pressed against the backrest as various items shattered around you. “Who the hell are these guys?”
“The shittiest bodyguards ever.” He looked over his shoulder but slid back down again when a shot nearly missed his face.
You didn’t even know where to shoot; the bullets just seemed to be coming from the shadows of the trees.
Taking a moment to assess the man breathing hard next to you. He was tall and muscular, a tight fighting shirt stretching across his chest. His hair was cropped, eyes dark with what looked like irritation more than anger. Hot.
Your attention was drawn to a trail of blood left on his forehead as he wiped at it with his forearm, him seemingly unaware of it.
“Dude, I think you got grazed.”
He looked at you questioningly. You pointed at his arm with your shoulder. His eyes dropped to it, letting out a string of curses as he tugged his sleeve back to look at the wound.
He didn’t have to pull it back much before the sight of a familiar design greeted you.
A spider web. Drawn intricately with the lines stretching delicately across his skin like lace.
A tattoo.
“You work for Ransone?” None of this made sense. Why were there two of you on the same mission? Who was this guy? Was he supposed to be here?
You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your sleeve back to reveal the same tattoo, smaller in size, but indicative enough.
He took a second to process. You could almost see the gears turning in his head.
“Great,” he finally said as a bullet lodged itself in the wall you were facing, bitterness lacing his words. “It’s a set up.”
“Oh, one more thing, Y/N.”
You spun on your heel to look at him. A devilish smile grew on his face.
“Remember- we don’t tolerate liars.”
You stared at him, not uttering a word, waiting for him to make his point.
“So make sure you let him know that.” His smile only grew as you turned around and walked out the door, letting it shut behind you.
The crunching of feet over glass made you look over your shoulder, only to quickly retract before your head was blown off.
They were wearing ski masks and all black tactical suits, leaving not even an inch of their skin uncovered.
“I count four or five. There may be more,” the man next to you said slowly.
“You take the ones on the left, I’ll take right,” you instructed, seeing him nod his head. You didn’t even know his name but apparently you were working together now.
You gave a small countdown before pivoting on your knee to face them, eyes already set on your target.
Firing off two shots, you saw the first one fall to the floor, soon accompanied by his teammate as you shot a round at his forehead.
Four were down, counting the bodies next to them on the floor, but the bullets didn’t stop firing at you. They clearly were in a much larger number than you anticipated.
You weren’t sure how many more bullets the couch could absorb. The both of you were basically sitting ducks; who knew how many more were out there. You had limited ammo because you didn’t expect a fucking SWAT team when you came to kill one man.
“We need to go,” he voiced your exact concern.
“Yep,” you grunted, shifting to reload your gun from the spare ammo in your pocket.
You didn’t know how to get out of here considering that you didn’t bring your own-
“I got a plan,” you said. He looked at you inquisitively. “You know the window in the west bedroom, hall dead-end?”
He nodded. Perhaps he was the one who left it open when he arrived.
“On the count of three, make a run for it.” You winced as a bullet tore through the fabric of the couch, right near where your shoulder was a second ago.
“We can’t outrun them,” he hissed, quickly shooting behind him before rejoining you on the floor.
“Trust me.” Bold ask. You wondered if he would.
“I don’t.”
“Do it anyway.”
You didn’t really care if he didn’t. At least you’d get out.
“One.” You shifted to sit on your knee. You could see him sit still, not joining you.
“Two.” Your gun was pressed to your side, at the ready.
“Three.” Like an athlete in a race you took off, not daring to look behind you even once as shots rode the air, narrowly missing your body.
You almost didn’t hear his groan and a small “Fuckin’ hell” before heavy footsteps ran behind you.
You smiled triumphantly, until you remembered the both of you were being followed, at least four more shooters hot on your heels.
You shot a single shot behind you, hearing someone wheeze before a loud thump of a body hitting the floor. Hopefully it wasn’t the guy you were with, but you couldn’t find it in your to care much if it was.
You raced past the numerous rooms you passed on the way here before it suddenly widened into the open kitchen.
Your body moved in autopilot, a detour in the form of a quick skip as you reached over and grabbed the contents of the bowl on the counter, fumbling to hold onto the car keys as loose change fell to the floor.
The oven timer went off, not for long before you heard its door splinter into pieces as someone shot at it in annoyance.
You took a sharp right into the room, followed by the man who took the time to kick the door shut behind him, buying you maybe a second or two of time.
You nearly flung yourself out of the window, the gravel not exactly providing the softest landing as you scrambled to open the door of the car.
“Get in!” you yelled at him as he obliged, yanking the door and jumping into the passenger seat. You threw the few dollars you had caught hold of by mistake on the floor of the car.
You could hear the door of the room being kicked open, and what seemed like angry shouting as the window cracked, leaving nothing in its wake.
You revved the engine, slamming the accelerator with as much power as you could. The car lurched backwards, and you cursed, switching gears to go forward.
The harsh sound of metal on metal followed you as they shot at whatever they could. You prayed they wouldn’t accidentally hit the wheel or gas tank. They didn’t exactly seem like the best in the business, having missed most of their shots.
“Go go go!” The guy beside you was holding on to his seat tightly for support.
The car broke through the rusty gates. You cringed at the dent on the hood, but didn’t slow down even for a second as you wove through trees of the estate, not losing speed even as you got onto the highway.
Silence befell the both of you for a good amount of time, but not enough time to process what had just happened. Your adrenaline was still high as you drove well above the speed limit.
Your next step was unclear.
You were in a car with a complete stranger. You weren’t sure if you were injured somewhere. You didn’t even know where you were driving to.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “What the hell was that?
Part 2
#sam x reader#sam wilson x reader#mcu fic#sam fic#sam wilson fic#sam wilson fluff#sam wilson angst#sam wilson series#falcon#falcon x reader#the falcon x reader#hitman!sam wilson#hitman!au#i'll haunt the bucky tag with unnecessary tags like how they do with the sam tag#i swear it'll do it#shut in fic#marvel fic#marvel#mcu#sam wilson#the falcon
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Jouska [Hotch x Reader]
Chapter 5:
Warnings: Mentions of guns, lil’ bitta tension, lotta angst. Mentions of Haley.
Word Count: 2,262
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“I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.” - Daniel Keyes
------
“Aaron would you just listen to me?!” The frustration seeps out of her pores, her hands running through her blonde hair.
They’ve been going around in circles for months now, ever since he took on your case, the irregular hours and time away taking its toll. It seems like a never ending cycle, she argues, he goes to work anyway, brings her back some flowers or gifts, they make up. Rinse and repeat. And she’s at the end of her tether.
He holds his hands up in defeat, setting his phone against the kitchen counter. “Haley! What would you have me do? I have a job, this is my career.” He says, almost condescendingly.
She slams the cupboard as her voice goes up a few octaves. “What is that supposed to mean? Don’t do that. Don’t you dare try to make me out to be the bad guy! Don’t you dare, Aaron.” Her eyes narrow and she’s seething, her face red and tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “You asked me to move in with you because you wanted to be with me. You wanted a future with me.”
“-I do.”
“Don’t interrupt me.” She hisses. “We moved from Seattle to DC so you could chase your dreams. I left my parents, my family, my friends to be with you. Because I believed you when you said you wanted a future with me.” Her tears spill over as she wipes at them frantically.
“Haley.”
“No. Aaron. I can’t. I understand you want to follow your dreams, I know this is your job, that this is who you are. But you need to seriously reconsider what’s important to you, because I can’t keep doing this.” Her voice cracks.
The sentence hits him like a freight train as he swallows the lump in his throat. “Keep doing what?” He asks hesitantly. He’s not sure if he even wants to know the answer. She’s all he knows.
“Going to bed alone.” She whispers. “I can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep being the only person all in for this relationship.”
His heart sinks. He crosses the small kitchen to hold her hands in his, a split second taking him back to when he held yours in the car that day. He shakes the thought from his head and seeks out her eyes. He doesn’t really know what to say, can’t quite find the words.
“I’m sorry.” He says defeatedly. He cups his hand around her cheeks and wipes the tears from her eyes as she leans into his touch, bringing her forehead to his.
It hurts him to know that she feels like this, but it devastates him even more to know that he can’t promise her he’ll do better. He wants to. More than almost anything, to give her what she wants, but his commitment to his job is almost hardwired into him, his need to uphold his oath. And the strange pull he feels towards you makes him feel like there’s too many parts of him being pulled this way and that, being spread too thin.
He feels torn.
She leans into his touch, both of them sharing a quiet moment after their blow up, their eyes closed, a glimmer of hope emerging in her chest.
But then his phone rings. He can almost see the disappointment rise in Haley’s shoulders as his eyes tear open at the sound, but Haley squeezes her eyes shut even more, knowing the answer. She already knows the outcome.
She knows who wins in this situation.
“Just go.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
Panic rises in Hotch’s chest, the magnetic pull of his phone and his job tearing him away from his childhood sweetheart.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Can we talk tonight?” He pleads.
She doesn’t respond, just keeps her eyes shut as he places a chaste kiss against her lips.
“I’m sorry.” And with that he leaves.
———-
“Oh, so big bad Hotch’s gonna teach me how to shoot, huh?” You huff out a laugh as you hand him your bag to load into the trunk.
“Yep.”
You squint at him, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanour, a knot forming in your stomach. You step into the SUV, securing your seatbelt, your anxiety taking over, suddenly.
You’ve noticed he’s been tense the past couple of days, but today especially. His eyebrows are pulled into a frown, he seems distant and unfocused and his jaw is set into a hard line, which ordinarily would get you into trouble with yourself, but today, it’s a sign for concern.
He checks his phone for the fifth time in almost as many minutes, rubbing a hand over his beard, inhaling sharply. His jaw ticks as he rolls open the window before putting the car into drive.
The car ride is literally and figuratively chilly, the spring air permeating the awkward atmosphere. Hotch doesn’t attempt to make any conversation with you, doesn’t even look at you, his nostrils flared and his mind elsewhere.
You feel awkward, uncomfortable and there’s a creeping sensation up your neck, a sharp contrast to a couple days ago when he had held your hand in his, reassured you that he’d do whatever he could to catch this guy. Now, the butterflies are an unwelcome sensation.
You continue on your wordless journey, pulling up to the shooting range. You take a beat and wait for Hotch as he unbuckles his belt and steps out of the car without even so much as acknowledging you. You swallow thickly, feeling an almost misplaced guilt towards his actions.
Was it you? Did you do something wrong?
———
“Okay, you’re gonna start with this one here.” Hotch explains, holding the Glock 42 flat in his palm, weighing it in his hands. “You’re gonna start with the smallest, get used to the trigger and the weight before we can move up.” His voice is monotone, unwavering. No hint of levity. You move up to the shelf, taking the gun from his hands.
Damn. What is with this guy today?
You clear your head.
Okay. Check the magazine, load, safety.
Done.
Stance, aim, push, pull and squeeze.
The smoke from the round wafts into your nose as you open your eyes to check the paper target in front of you, completely untouched.
Shit.
Hotch pinches his nose, the vein in his temple throbbing. “No, c’mon! How many times-“
He winces and stops abruptly. Stops before he says something he doesn’t mean, before he does something he knows he’ll regret. This isn’t him. And it isn’t your fault. He knows this, but he can’t help but feel that the misplaced frustration he has towards you is because of his guilty conscience, it’s compensation for the way he feels so torn. Still he pushes it down further.
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I-. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
You just follow his movements, watch him collect himself. He takes a breath and huffs out a dry laugh. “Alright. C’mere.”
You shoot him a puzzled look, the swift change in his mood taking you aback. Part of you wants to rip him a new one for treating you like this, but it wouldn’t do any good. Strange attraction aside, he was fast becoming your friend, one of the only people you could rely on, and knowing he wasn’t in the right headspace but not having the answer for him was frustrating.
He chuckles. “Come on. Come here.” He beckons you toward him. You plant yourself in front of him, as he moves in close, his body solid behind you. He grips your wrists from behind as your hands wrap around the glock, taking stance, his breath on your neck.
His voice is low in your ear. “Remember to follow through, okay?” You don't dare turn your head, he’s so close. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye to find him watching you, his eyes flirting to your lips for a brief second and you feel that familiar heat creep up your neck.
He moves back only slightly, giving him enough room to grip your hips, positioning your right foot back, angling your body at a slight diagonal. His hands are solid on your body, moving you with ease. You try your best to concentrate on the target in front of you and to hold the glock level, but Hotch’s presence so close is less than ideal when you need to focus.
He positions your arms once again, touch feather light this time, brushing your shoulders as he does. He nods for you to try again.
You keep your eyes on the target this time, trained on the marker body in front of you after you shoot and you can’t quite believe you hit it. You squeal with excitement and turn to face Hotch who looks proud but drops down quickly, seeing the Glock still in your hands.
“Yeah, lesson number 2. Never-“ He nods at you to punctuate his point, taking the gun from you. “-Never. Point a gun at someone without aiming.”
———
It’s dark when Hotch pulls up outside your building, the mood decidedly lighter than before but the unspoken heaviness still lingers in the air, carries all the way up to your apartment. You key the door open, switching on a lamp on your way in, Hotch making quick work of a window sweep.
“Two MPD officers are posted right outside, and there are two unmarked cars outside, too. Just in case.”
You nod as you walk into your kitchen, a sudden surge of bravery taking over. “Hey, Hotch?”
He doesn’t look up from his phone when he answers. “Yeah?”
“Hotch.”
He looks up this time, sheepish expression on his face when he realises you’re staring at his phone, too, cursing himself for not minding his manners.
“Sorry. What is it?”
“Are you okay?” You ask, earnestly.
He pretends to be oblivious, as you walk out of your kitchen and plant yourself on your couch, water in hand. He sits on the ottoman you use as a footrest opposite your couch, but says nothing. Just watches you, but you wait for him.
He runs his hands through his hair. It’s endearing, you think.
“That obvious?” He says with a dry chuckle.
You wait for him to go on.
“I know I’ve been ‘off’ the last couple of days. I’m sorry. It’s just- I don’t know. Stuff in my personal life, I guess - I let it affect my job. Won’t happen again.”
“That’s not what I mean. Screw the job. I mean are you actually okay?” You feel a strange pull in your chest, the vulnerability is written on his face. But you don’t want to push him. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“It’s- just this job, y’know. My girlfriend-“
“-Haley.” You’re thinking out loud but he looks surprised as to how you could know her name. “I think I heard you talking to her a couple times.” You shake it off.
“Yeah. Well. She’s struggling to cope with all of this, I guess. The job. It’s not like it’s a regular 9-5, and I don’t suppose it’s much fun going to sleep in an empty house most nights.”
I go to bed alone.
She goes to bed alone.
He curses himself for his lack of tact. “I mean I know where she’s coming from, I wish I could be around more but it’s hard trying to get the right balance y’know? And I don’t know, I have the feeling she might not want to stick around much longer - and I wouldn’t blame her.”
He whispers the last part, like he doesn’t trust his voice to betray him. He’s surprised he’s even opened up to you this much, this quickly and he realises his mouth has already betrayed him before his brain had even had a chance to catch up. He feels lighter though, maybe even optimistic.
But you feel your heart sinking. The naive little girl in you had thought maybe Hotch could have felt attracted to you, maybe even had some feelings for you. The realisation that he has a foundation, a home, a long-term relationship - even if it was on the rocks - makes your chest heavy. Makes it hard to breathe.
You don’t want to give him advice. Don’t even want to really think about him and Haley at all. But the sadness in his eyes and the worry in his voice speaks louder than the little voice in your head.
“You love her?”
He takes a beat, but nods.
“Then you know what you have to do, Hotch. Give her what she wants. Give her what she needs to stay.” You feel a misplaced, profound kind of sadness deep within you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because you feel utterly alone and like nobody would ever want to fight for you - or whether it’s because you know that person wouldn’t be the man sitting in front of you.
Still, you inhale deeply and stand. “Well, listen - I don’t wanna keep you.” You walk him to your door. “I hope it all works out.” You tell him as you watch him leave. And you only half mean it.
———
“Haley?” Hotch shouts through the door. He shrugs off his blazer and loosens his tie as he turns on the lights in their dark home, blinking as his eyes adjust. There’s no answer.
“Haley?”
Nothing.
He searches the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, a sinking feeling taking over. Still, he calls out her name, to no avail. He turns on the light in their bedroom, the wardrobes open and hangers laying on a neat pile in the corner. He sighs defeatedly.
His eyes fall to a piece of folded yellow paper on the centre of their perfectly made bed. He picks it up and lets his body fall onto the mattress, unfolding the note.
Haley’s elegant, slanted writing reads:
‘I’m sorry too. - HB’
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“Teeth”
Peter Parker x Anti-hero!Reader
NSFW
Warnings: Smut, chocking kink, rough sex.
Part XI of the "Mercy" series
SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST
"Something in the way you look into my eyes... I don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive"
Teeth - 5SOS
Peter was going to be sick.
He hadn't felt sick in years, ever since the spider bite, but he was sure his stomach was about to turn any second now.
It was all in front of his eyes, the darkest, most confidential of S.H.I.E.L.D's files. Project Lazarus. Nick Fury’s unethical, insane scheme to get the original six back together, using the kree blood running through Captain Marvel's veins to reanimate the fallen ones. And you had been the ultimate guinea pig, the final test.
And Peter had been the one to authorize it.
The name on the files was your father's, but Bucky had only consented after Peter…
He ran, barely making it to the ensuite on time to empty the contents of his stomach into the sink. He let the water flow to wash the foul liquid away.
That wasn't even the worst. Oh no, that was barely the top of the iceberg. The most horrifying part, the part that was going to give him nightmares for weeks, was that protocol. The T.A.H.I.T.I. protocol, a machine wired directly to your brain, with your skull splitted open, erasing everything Fury considered you didn't need. There were even fucking reports about how much more docile and happier you were after forgetting your mother's death, and your subsequent murderous rampage.
And at least half of it was bullshit. They had told you about Natasha the very same day you had woken up, asking for your mommy in russian, breaking their hearts in a thousand pieces once they understood what was going on.
He sprayed some cold water on his face, trying to regain his composure. As bad as he was feeling, it was probably nothing compared to what you were feeling. He had to get it together, for you. He rinsed his mouth and dried his face with a towel, stepping back into his room.
But you were nowhere to be found.
His heart fell to his stomach. He scrambled to put on a pair of sweats, cursing the valuable seconds he was wasting, before running at breakneck speed through hallways and flights of stairs until he reached your floor. By the time he barged into your room, he was out of breath.
“No” It came out as a whisper, a barely audible gasp at finding his worst suspicions confirmed.
There you were, fully dressed, a backpack open on your bed with a few clothes thrown haphazardly inside as you raided your bedroom for weapons.
“No” He repeated, more firmly, when you passed by him. He was met with more silence, as you took your small Glock 42 and checked the magazine. You wouldn't even look at him. You couldn't. You knew that if you as much as met those warm coffee eyes, bright with tears, you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to do it, you wouldn't be able to leave him.
And you had to. Peter didn't know, you were certain, he didn't mean to do so, but he was playing right into the role director Fury intended for him to play: A distraction and an anchor, something to stay for, to keep you loyal to the avengers.
Just like Hydra had used your father to keep your mother in line once, a long time ago. She had told you that story, told you about your dad's face, frozen inside a cryogenic pod. And she had taught you, with tears in her eyes, the motto you had lived your whole life by, up until now: ‘Your first and most important loyalty, must always be to yourself’
You counted your bullets, and tucked the gun into the thigh holster under your skirt. It was time to honor that law.
Peter stepped in front of you, halting your advances,
“Y/n, stop, talk to me, please!” He reached for your hand, but you avoided his touch. You knew what would happen if he touched you.
“It’s over, Peter” Your voice washed over him like a bucket of cold water, chilling him to the bone, “I’m leaving”
The words knocked all the air out of his chest, like a physical blow. He knew your first reaction would be to fly, your mother had raised you your whole life to make self preservation your first instinct. He had feared you would leave him behind.
But somehow, Peter had never pictured you would want to leave him.
He could feel his eyes burn, smell the salt of his own tears. He choked on the question that wanted to escape his throat, it was useless questioning why: He was still pretty much a stranger to you, all of them were. You weren't one to trust easily in strangers, and you had just been proven right. But comprehending didn't make it any less painful.
“Take me with you” He was conscious of the futility of his request as he said the words but he had to try. He had to.
You stopped your packing, meeting his eyes. But he found nothing in yours. No warmth. No trust. Nothing but the cold fire of your barely contained rage, algid and terrible. Peter had seen that look before, back in a barn on a stormy night. He regretted, for what was probably the thousandth time, not running away with you then, instead of asking you to stay with him.
“I was there” He tried again, “the night you tried to kill Clint”
“I know” You interrupted him, “I just read the file”
“I asked you to stay that night. You wanted to run and instead of asking you to let me go with you, I asked you to stay. I’m not making that mistake again. Let me go with you”
Unknowingly, Peter had just confirmed your worst suspicions. He had been the key piece in Fury's chess game from the very beginning, sending him after you over and over again despite his failures, he had set the bait. And you had fallen straight into his trap, forgetting all your training, giving up your own freedom… for a boy.
You weren’t making the same mistake twice either.
“Goodbye, Peter.”
He watched as in slow motion how you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, realizing then that the only way to stop you from leaving was to physically stop you. Desperate, he let his instinct take over in one last attempt to keep you there.
He tackled you, your body hitting the floor hard, all the air knocked out of your lungs at once. Your wrists hurt where his hands pinned them to the floor as he straddled you, a feeling of deja vu washing over him as he looked down at your furious face, but you weren't the same girl he had webbed down to the faded hardwood of that dingy apartment almost a year ago. Not anymore. Six months of training with the winter soldier, the handler of widows himself, had made you even deadlier than you already were.
You tangled your ankle around one of his own, bucking your hips up, pushing him out of balance as you rolled him over, landing on top of him, hand firm around his throat.
“You think you can stop me?” There was venom, and contempt, in your words, his spider sense flaring up. But tried as he may, he couldn't move, couldn't even look away. He was a fly, trapped and defenseless, in your web. He had always been. How foolish and conceited of him, calling himself Spider-man, when there, laying underneath you, he finally understood what a real predator was.
“You think you can get on top of me? Think you can dominate me, boy?” You felt Peter's gulp under your palm. It was tempting, so tempting…
So you squeezed, just a little, watching his pupils blow wide with adrenaline, equal parts crisp trepidation and desire. Peter’s head was spinning, and it wasn't just from lack of oxygen. He didn't know the exact moment you went from fighting him to claw at his clothes, but you were, and he was aiding you, ripping yet another one of your panties, another casualty in the warfare of your relationship, guiding your hips down as you braced yourself, one hand on the floor, the other one still around his neck. Unlike him, who was hard from the moment he felt your hands on his skin, you weren't ready, nowhere near wet enough, but you didn't care: The slight burn grounded you, made everything sharper. This wasn't about placer anyway, this was a punishment. For Peter, for making you feel the things he made you feel; and for you, for allowing them to grow and fester in your heart.
He seemed to like it, though, hips bucking to meet yours, breathless sounds leaving his lips as you fucked yourself on his cock.
“You like this, don't you?” You marveled, “Like it rough, boy?”
It wasn't your old ‘baby boy’, the one that belied your tenderness as you did the most depraved things to him. But it was close enough to get his heart racing.
“Pathetic” You decided, as you felt his pulse pick up under your hand. He whimpered, tears pricking at his eyes, and at last, you let go of his neck, placing both hands flat on his muscular chest for leverage. It wasn’t long before you were breathless too, as taking his cock became easier and easier with every downward stroke.
“Shit... I’ll give it to you, spidey… your dick feels amazing…” You gasped, little frown of concentration on your face, lips parted, unable to contain your little moans. How could he ever let you go, when you were the most exquisite thing Peter had witnessed in his whole life?
“Too much for you, little spider?” He could do nothing but sob as you teased him, cruelly, tightening your muscles around him “...Or not enough?”
You leaned forward, tracing your tongue over his open lips, but quickly withdrawing when he tried to capture yours in a kiss. You changed your pace, no longer bouncing but rocking on top of him, grinding your clit against his pelvis, enjoying the electricity that the friction created on your little pearl of nerves.
Meanwhile, Peter was a mess underneath you, tears now flowing freely, whimpering, and shaking, fisting the fabric of your skirt so hard that you heard it rip. But still not daring to complain.
“You're such a good boy, aren't you? Could do anything I want with you… use you anyway I wanted to…”
You felt him twitch inside you at your words, another whine escaping his chest.
“I could ruin you, ride you so hard… get you so close… and stop right before you come”
He shook his head frantically, desperate, but still, he kept silent.
“You don't want that? But you'd take it anyway, wouldn't you?”
He closed his eyes, unable to meet yours, ashamed. That was all the answer you needed,
“You would. Because you are mine… my pretty toy… to use… to fuck…” You picked up your pace, bouncing up and down his cock, and he couldn't contain himself anymore,
“Yes!” He cried, “I’m yours! All yours!”
“My slutty boy” You praised, legs burning with the strain and exhaustion of the night, but stopping was not an option. You were close, drunk on the power of having such a strong superhuman submitting to you, such a gorgeous man turned into a needy, desperate puddle between your legs.
“Please” He begged, pitifully.
“What do you need, little boy?”
His fingers closed around your wrist, guiding your hand until it was back around his neck, and you understood. You could have mocked him again, humiliated him farther, make him beg for it. But something inside his coffee eyes stopped you. It wasn't trust, no. You could practically smell the fear, the sharp tang of epinephrine coming off his pores, every hair on his body still standing on end, proof of his spider sense still on high alert…
No. It was deeper than that. It was surrender. He knew you could as easily give him what he wanted, as turn on him. Never, not even back it that farm, had been more evident to him that the hand he loved to hold was a weapon.
But he couldn't help never wanting to let go.
“Я тебя люблю” He croaked, throat dry and sore from your manhandling, but still clear enough to make your hips falter.
“What did you just say?” You breathed, stunned.
“Я тебя люблю” He repeated, more clearly, hands sliding up your thighs, till he had handfuls of your ass, “I love you…”
“Shut up” You hissed.
“I won't. I love you” Peter felt as your nails dug on his chest, until he had five bloody crescent marks to match the ones on his back, “I love you…”
You squeezed his neck harder, until he was really struggling for air, black spots dancing in his vision.
“I love you” It was nothing but a gasp.
You made a frustrated noise, but there was no denying the way your walls fluttered around him. And there was no stopping your hips, working him ferociously, fucking yourself on his cock without mercy. You were falling already, falling apart for him.
“Come with me” It was a command. It was a request. It was an invitation.
And Peter knew you weren't just talking about his release.
To be continued...
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#Mercy series#mercy
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Forgotten Fling 2/7
Pairing: Y/N x Brett Talbot
Warnings: Guns
A/N: found this in my notes and realized i never continued this story, so i figured now is as good of a time as any! this is going to be slightly slowburn so there will be more parts!
++++++++++++++++++++++
“Y/N”
“Y/N!!”
You bolted upright, startled awake by your little brother Liam. You looked around and noticed you were in the some clothes from last night, with your essay notes and textbooks spread around you on the bed.
“What? What is it?” you said.
“We have to be at school in 20 minutes,” Liam said, before rushing out of your room.
You took a minute to recall the events from yesterday: school, the lacrosse game, your essay, Brett. Seeing Brett get off the bus, at the game, and most importantly: helping him at the clinic. You shook yourself back into reality and bolted into your bathroom. You looked into the mirror and saw your red face and puffy eyes, messy bun in your hair that you definitely forgot to wash last night. In simpler words: You looked terrible. After getting home from the clinic, you laid on top of your bed, and cried for hours ; homework long forgotten. You must’ve eventually fallen asleep and forgot to set your alarm, because the last thing you remember is recalling all of your memories with Brett.
You shook yourself back into reality, again, and kicked it into high gear. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, attempted to brush your hair, before throwing it into a slightly neater messy bun than before, and stripped out of your dirty clothes. You found the closest pair of clean leggings you could find, and a random crewneck from your closet. Finally, you went over to your bed and shoved all of your work from the night before into your bag and shoved your shoes on. You grabbed your keys and your phone and raced down the stairs.
“Finally! What took you so long?” Liam said.
You looked over and saw him sitting at the kitchen table, empty plate in front him.
“In case you forgot, I had kind of a rough night last night. Now let’s go, we have like 5 minutes to get to school.”
Considering you and Liam didn’t live far from the school, you didn’t have to speed too much to get there. After a silent car ride, you pulled into the parking lot just was the first bell was ringing. You both hurried into the school, halfheartedly saying goodbye to each other and heading to your respective classes. You slid into your English class just as the final bell rang and hurried over to your seat next to Lydia. She gave you a confused look to which you shook your head and faced the front.
At the end of class, you and Lydia walked out and started heading to your lockers, when she suddenly stopped you and stepped directly in front of you.
“Okay, what’s up with you? You’re never late to school, and you look sickly. Spill it.” she said.
“Is Brett on the deadpool?” you asked, ignoring her other comments.
“What?”
“Lydia, come on. I know you broke the second third of the list. Is he on it?”
“Yes.”
“How much is he worth?”
Lydia hesitated and took a deep breath, before saying, “1 million.”
You sucked in a breath. You weren’t surprised by her answers, but you definitely weren’t expecting your stomach to drop when she said it. The question had been in your head since the night before, and was a majority of the reason you had trouble sleeping.
“Okay. Thanks,” you said, turning around without a second glance, ignoring Lydia’s calls for you. You didn’t know why you were so upset when she told you. You knew Brett was a werewolf, so why wouldn’t he be on the deadpool? The bigger question: Why were you so worried about him?
—————————
Over the next week, you struggled with yourself over what was going on in your head. You were over Brett, right? He made you choose between him and your little brother. The two of you were never even together in the first place. It was just a fling, and occasional hookup, right?
Lydia spent the week trying to get you to talk about it and get it off of your chest, while Liam spent his time talking about how much he hated Brett. You, on the other hand, wanted to forget about it and focus on the more important thing at hand, the deadpool. Since you didn’t have any supernatural abilities, you practiced the one thing you knew you could do to help: shooting a gun.
Your stepfather taught you how to shoot a gun when you were younger, but you never really took a big interest in them until you found out about the supernatural. You knew you had to have a way to protect yourself, and the ones you cared about, so you practiced. At first, you would go with your stepdad to the gun range as often as possible, but with his schedule as a doctor, picking out a specific time was hard. That’s when Scott introduced you to Braeden. Braeden helped you learn more about shooting a gun in the first week than you had ever known. Now, months later, if you weren’t helping the pack figure out who the Benefactor was, you were with Braeden. Shooting helped you get your mind off of everything going on, especially you conflicted thoughts about Brett.
“Are you picking me up from practice?” Liam asked as you were walking out of the high school at the end of the day.
“No, I’ve got plans. Can Scott take you?”
“I’ll ask him. What are you even doing anyway? You’ve barely been home all week.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, okay?” you said as you walked over to your car, leaving Liam to wonder where you were off to. You hadn’t told Liam that you had been spending most of your time either at the range or with Braeden, but you weren’t sure why. Scott and Lydia both knew, but you made them promise not to tell Liam. Regardless, you got in your car and threw your bag into the passenger side, before heading off towards the range where you were meeting Braden.
As you pulled into the parking lot, you saw Braeden leaning against her car.
“Hey Y/N, you ready to do this?”
“I always am,” you replied while getting out of your car.
The two of you headed in and immediately got to work, you practicing with your favorite weapon: a Glock 19. According to California laws, you weren’t old enough to carry a firearm, but due to the circumstances, Braeden gave you one. You hadn’t had the need to use it yet, but it was more so a safety precaution incase you ever did need to.
_____________________
You had no idea how much time had passed since you got to the range, but Braeden was long gone when you got a call from Scott.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Hey Y/N, are you still at the range?” Scott rushed out.
“Yeah, why?”
“Look, normally i wouldn’t have called you for this, but I figured you’d want to know. Kira is on her way to the school. Brett and his sister are in trouble.”
“I’m on my w-,” you started to say, before Scott cut you off.
“Be careful okay? We don’t know what these people are capable of,” he said.
“I can handle myself Scott. I’ll let you know what happens,” you said, before hanging up the phone. You grabbed all of your belongings as quickly as you could before running out of the building and to your car. At this point it was pouring down rain, and you struggled to see as you drove to the school for the second time that day. You had no idea who you were up against, or what they were doing, all you knew is that Brett was in trouble, and you were not about to let him be the next casualty of the deadpool. You spotted Kira getting out of her car as soon as you pulled into the parking lot, and you didn’t even bother to park in a spot before stopping the car and turning it off. You looked over at the gun and the extra magazines laying in your passenger seat, debating if you should bring them or not. You grabbed them before you could change your mind, and got out of the car and ran over to Kira.
“Did Scott call you?” she yelled at you over the rain.
“Yeah he figured I’d want to be here. Any idea where they are?” you asked. Just as she was about to answer, you saw one of the stadium light on the lacrosse field come on, and the both of you took off in that direction. By the time you reached the field, all of the lights had come on, Kira and yourself were soaked from the rain, and you spotted Brett and Lori standing in the middle of the field. You also spotted the multiple assassins at the other end of the field, all with different weapons aiming for the chests of the young werewolves. Kira broke off in a sprint, you right on her heels, to the middle of the field. One of the assassins shot an arrow, and Kira was able to get to it and slice it in half just before it would have come into connect with Brett’s chest. You pulled your gun out of the back of your waistband, before you and Kira both turned to the siblings and yelled,
“Run!”
Both Brett and Lori opened their eyes and saw the two of you. You made eye contact with Brett, and when he didn’t move, you yelled at him again,
“Brett, get out of here! Take Lori and get to Deaton’s clinic!”
Brett hesitated, but upon seeing Kira slice another arrow in half, and the gun in your hand, he took off with Lori. At this point you had turned your attention towards the assassins that were shooting at you and Kira left and right. You struggled to see in the rain, but you aimed for the legs and started shooting. You didn’t want to kill anyone, you just wanted them to stop shooting and leave. You hit one of the men in the leg, and that’s when they took off. You looked over at Kira to see her breathing hard, you doing the same.
“Come on let go. We can call Scott on the way,” Kira said, grabbing your arm before the two of you ran to your cars. Kira agreed to call Scott on the way, and the both of you headed to the veterinary clinic. As you were driving, you took into account everything that just happened, and realized that the adrenaline had to have accounted for most of it.
“I just shot someone,” you thought, suddenly feeling like you were going to throw up.
“I just shot someone, who was trying to assassinate the boy I’m in love with,” you thought again. You didn’t realize that you had started to cry at the possibility of Brett almost dying, once again. This was the first time since seeing Brett get off of the bus, that you admitted to yourself that you still loved him. By this point, you had arrived at the clinic, and you saw that Kira was already walking in the door. You took a minute to compose yourself, wiping the tears off of your face. you turned off the ignition and went into the clinic, not expecting to see Brett’s entire pack, including his Alpha, in the back. You avoided eye contact with him and made your way over to Deaton, who was talking to Kira about what happened.
“Who’s idea was it to bring them here?” he asked.
“Mine. This was the first place i thought off, but I didn’t realize there was this many people in the pack,” You answered.
“Well, I’d say it was a good idea to bring them here. Has anyone called Scott?” Deaton asked again.
“I called him on the way over here. Liam’s with him,” Kira said, looking over at you. You realized now was as good of a time as any to tell your brother what you had been up too, since he would probably have found out eventually. Just then, you heard the bell over the front door sound, and you and Kira both ran out to see the boys. You ran too Liam and crushed him in a hug, while Kira went over to Scott and kissed him.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Liam said sounding worried.
“I’m fine. I’ll explain everything later, I promise,” you said, before looking at Scott and Kira.
“Did you find him? Did you find Brett?” Scott asked.
“Actually, I think we found all of them,” Kira said, before leading the four of you into the back room.
“Satomi, this is who I was telling you about,” Kira said, gesturing to Scott. Satomi nodded and smiled before saying,
“I know who Scott McCall is.”
“Are we safe here?” Lori suddenly asked, looking only at you. When you and Brett were “together,” you had become close with Lori, treating her like your little sister. You looked over at her and smiled, before saying,
“For now, yeah, you’re safe.” You looked over at Brett for the first time since you were on the lacrosse field, and you just barely caught the soft smiled on his lips. You wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides him, but you couldn’t. Brett was having the same problem. He wanted to break the eye contact, but he couldn’t either. Unbeknownst to the other one, memories of the two of you flooded both of your minds. Memories of when the two of you were happy together kept playing in your mind, and you didn’t want them to stop. It just seemed like everything around the both of you stopped, like you and Brett were the only two in the room, until,
“We’re gonna need help. A lot of help,” Scott said. You ripped your eyes away from Brett’s and looked over the Scott, before saying,
“I’ll call Braeden. You call Argent.” With that, you spun on your heel and headed outside, where it was still raining, but not quite as hard. The whole eye contact thing with Brett made you feel like you were going to throw up for the second time that night, but this time, you actually did it. You ran to the back of the building and threw up, all of the events of the night finally catching up to you: Saving Brett and Lori, the assassins, shooting someone. When you were done, you moved to lean on the side of the building, letting the rain hit you and calm you down. You were crying again, and you realized that you seemed to be crying a lot these days, something you never used to do. You hated crying because it made you feel weak.
Preoccupied with your thoughts, you didn’t hear Liam come up beside and you and ask if you were okay. You jumped at the sound of his voice, before saying,
“I need to tell you something. A lot of things actually.”
#teen wolf#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf imagines#brett talbot imagines#brett talbot imagine#brett talbot#scott mccal imagine#scott mccall#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi imagine#isaac lahey imagine#isaac lahey#deadpool#tumblr#imagines#imagine
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2023 Playlist
2 Chainz & Lil Wayne – Long Story Short
38 Spesh – Crowned King
38 Spesh & Conway the Machine feat. Benny the Butcher – Speshal Machinery
38 Spesh & Conway the Machine feat. Pharohe Monch & Che Noir – We Outside
Adi Oasis – Serena
Adrian Dzvuke feat. Myx Quest – EGO
Ama Lou – Silence
Armani White feat. A$AP Ferg – Silver Tooth.
Austin Millz feat. Duckwrth – Familiar
Biako feat. Peyton – Holy Matrimony
BiC Fizzle – Loaded
BiC Fizzle – Where U From
BigXthaPlug - Mmhmm
BigXthaPlug – Rush Hour
BJ the Chicago Kid – Who Cares
BLK ODYSSY feat. Grace Sorensen – LET ME GO
BLK ODYSSY – ODEE
Boldy James & ChanHays – Trust Issues
Casper Sage – Flow State
Chase Shakur – x’s n o’s
Chiiild – Into The Deep End
Chris Brown – Feel Something
Chris Brown – Stutter
Ciara – Type A Party
Conway the Machine & Jae Skeese – The Chosen
Conway the Machine feat. Sauce Walka & Juicy J – Super Bowl
Curren$y & Trauma Tone – All Fucked Up
Curren$y & Trauma Tone feat. Maxo Kream – Cheat Code
Daniel Caesar – Do You Like Me?
Dave East – Letter to Kobi
Dave East – Like A Rose
Deanté Hitchcock feat. Big K.R.I.T. & Westside Boogie – Callin’
Dende – Nightmares
Destin Conrad feat. Masego – Super Paradise
Devon Gilfillian – The Recipe
DJ Drama feat. Jeezy – I Ain’t Gon Hold Ya
Doe Boy – Rhude Boy
Doja Cat – Agora Hills
Doja Cat – 97
Domo Genesis & The Alchemist feat. Tyler, the Creator – No Idols
Domo Genesis & The Alchemist feat. Freddie Gibbs – Till The Angels Come
Don Toliver – Leather Coat
Don Toliver feat. Kali Uchis – 4 Me
Ebony Riley – Draws
Elli Ingram – Heavy
Elmiene – Mad At Fire
Elmiene – Someday
Emotional Oranges – Lies You Tell
Fall Out Boy – What a Time To Be Alive
FNF Chop – Shooting
Forest Claudette – Two Years
Gucci Mane & B.G. – Idiots Worst Nightmare
Gucci Mane feat. Young Dolph – Pretty Girls
Hamzaa & 1srael – Borderline
IDK feat. Jucee Froot & Saucy Santana – Pinot Noir
Jack Harlow – They Don’t Love It
Jacob Latimore – Sorry
Jai’len Josey – Southern Delicacy
Jane Handcock – Layin Next to Me
Janelle Monáe – Water Slide
Jastin Martin – S.O.M.S. (Still Owe Me Something)
Jean Deaux – Dog
JMSN – Soft Spot
Jordan Ward feat. Lido – Pricetag/Beverlywood
Jorja Smith - Lately
Jozzy – Alone
Juicy J feat. La Chat – Deadbeat
Jungle – Back On 74
Justine Skye feat. Timbaland – Intruded
Kali Uchis feat. Don Toliver – Fantasy
K Camp – Spin the Block
Kenyon Dixon feat. Alex Isley – & Then Some
Kenyon Dixon – Lucky
Key Glock – Pop My Shit
Khamari – Doctor, My Eyes
Killer Mike feat. El-P & thankugoodsir – Don’t Let the Devil
Killer Mike feat. Curren$y, 2 Chainz, & Kaash Paige – Spaceship Views
KXNG CROOKED & Joell Ortiz – No More
Kyra – Sweet Mahogany
Larry June & The Alchemist feat. Slum Village – Orange Village
Larry June & Cardo feat. ScHoolboy Q – Pop Out
Leonard Charles feat. Reality Jonez – Get Out
Leon Thomas – Breaking Point
Lloyd Banks – Onyx AMG
Lloyd Banks feat. Method Man – 101 Razors
Logic feat. Norah Jones – Paradise II
Mac Demarco – Chicago
Machel Montano – Night Shift
Machel Montano feat. Destra – Shake the Place
Maeta feat. Ambré – Control Freak
Mahalia – Isn’t It Strange?
Mahalia – Plastic Plants
Marc E. Bassy – Change My Ways
Mannywellz – Be Alright
Masego – In Style
Masego – Remembering Sundays
Moneybagg Yo – Ocean Spray
Nas – Slow It Down
Nelccia – Options
Noah Guy feat. Amaria – Stay Here
Nonso Amadi – Foreigner
Omarion – Alkaline Drip
Paramore – Running Out of Time
Phabo – Casamigos
PinkPanthress – The Aisle
Preemo Rice – DEEP in my bag
Queen Naija – Soul Tied
RAAHiiM – Friend Zone
RAAHiiM – Lonely
RAAHiiM – Outside Freestyle
Reason – Gang Shit!
Rican Da Menace feat. Moneybagg Yo – Dumb
Rory feat. DRAM & Alex Isley – I Want You But You’ll Never Know…
Roy Woods – Don’t Mind Me
rum.gold – AM/FM
Sabrina Carpenter – Read Your Mind
Sabrina Claudio – Tastes So Good
Saint Harison feat. Tiana Major9 – homies
Saleka – Fantasy
Saleka – Séance
Sam Smith – No God
Sampha – Inclination Compass (Tenderness)
Sampha – Only
Sebastian Mikael feat. Flwr Chyld – It’s You
Selah Sue – When It All Falls Down
Shy Glizzy feat. 21 Savage – Slime-U-Out
Sy Ari Da Kid & Paxquiao – No Rules (Slut Me Out)
Tay Iwar feat. Knucks – Juice
Terrace Martin & Alex Isley – 2 Step in the Living Room
THEY. – Blu Moon
TOBi – Move
Tone Stith – Girls Like You
Tone Stith – Whoa
Travis Scott – I Know?
Travis Scott feat. James Blake & 21 Savage – Till Further Notice
Vedo – Consistency
Vedo – Deep (Hold You)
Vedo – You and Me
Victoria Monet – Smoke (Reprise)
Wale the Sage – Bleue
Wiz Khalifa – Tail Money
Yung Bleu – Can’t Help Who You Love
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The Wildest Place You Run (2/?) - Hold the Front
Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter or reblogged, liked the story written for @cssns! Here’s the next one; I plan on posting chapters every Sunday. Thank you to my awesome beta and artist @thejollyroger-writer! Check out her amazing art for the first two chapters! Enjoy!
Summary:
Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...
Chapter: 2/? - Hold the Front
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Rating: M
Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Read on: FF.net or AO3
Words: ~4.7k
Previous parts:
Ch 1
TW for this chapter: Depictions of violence and blood
.
"There was nothing you could have done," said Mary Margaret as she shook her head.
Emma couldn't even count just how many times she had heard this sentence from her. She wanted to believe her friend, but she never could. If she had been faster, if she had noticed the danger sooner… Maybe she could have saved Neal that terrible night.
It had happened more than half a year ago, but the screams still echoed in her ears as sharply as they had that night. The image of the pile of bodies, the blood, and the burning building was forever seared into her memory. But the most terrifying minutes weren't caused by these pictures. Neal's death changed everything…
He was a Hunter, just like her half-brother, David, with the difference that no elven blood flowed through his veins, any more than it did in hers. They both served the Guild and that was what caused Neal's demise. He and her brother were among the first to be called to the front lines…
The light of the full moon covered the entire clearing, and it danced on the mirror of the lake. The weather was relatively pleasant, a balmy breeze sailing through the early June night. It ruffled the fresh, green grass of the meadow, welcomely cooling down her hot face.
Lying side by side, they had been staring wordlessly at the sea of stars for some time. She really wanted to tell him, but she didn't know how he would handle it. She tasted the words a few times in front of the mirror in practice, but found none of them appropriate.
She just watched him, even now she could hardly believe he loved her. Just her. She'd never believed she was good enough to deserve anyone's love, but Neal still saw something in her. It was true, of course, that it took almost two years for their paths to cross (and her infatuation to be reciprocated), but in the end, her intuitions proved to be correct.
There was no one for her but Neal. Maybe the statement was slightly inaccurate, but the few people she'd been with left her within days, weeks, or months, saying they just couldn't learn to love her. She accepted it, because what could she have done? She loved them in vain…
She had already given up on ever being with Neal too, when what she had been waiting for finally happened.
He tore her from her contemplation. He turned on his side, propped himself on his elbow, and gently drew her to him. "What's wrong?" He brushed a lock of her fallen hair behind her ear and smiled kindly at her.
"Nothing's wrong," she whispered in response, snuggling even closer to him.
"Are you sure? You've been acting so… weird," he gently stroked her curly, long blonde hair and gave her an unwaveringly angelic smile. His brown eyes lit up brightly, the corners crinkling faintly.
At any given time, she could completely get lost in those orbs.
"Of course. Everything's fine," she assured him, though the desire to just tell him was burning her inside. But she still couldn't find the words and hesitated. How would he react?
"If you say so…"
His gaze drifted to her lips, and she could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. She didn't have to wait long, he slid his palm under her head and rolled over her in moments. His lips tasted hers gently. It was sweet, hot, and passionate all at once, gradually deepening until their tongues met. Suddenly, his body weighed on her. Although not at full weight, he still took her breath away.
It wasn't painful, but he wasn't exactly a lightweight, and the movement gave her a fright.
"Could you…" she moaned in a low voice, but he seemed to understand.
He braced himself on his hands, and she could finally breathe. "Sorry," he smiled apologetically.
"Neal," she finally managed to gather her thoughts.
"Yes?" He scanned her face curiously, his expression momentarily uneasy at the uncertainty he probably saw in her eyes.
"I…" she couldn't continue, she just stared at him, hoping he would understand.
"What's wrong?" His gaze turned suspicious.
"I… I'm… pregnant," she said, breaking eye contact and waiting with bated breath for his reaction. She knew for a fact that he loved her, but they were still so young and they never talked about it.
For a few seconds, he only stared at her with widened eyes. Her face immediately felt hot. It looked like it was the last thing he'd expected to leave her mouth. It must have felt like an ice-cold shower.
Then, to her greatest surprise, a wide grin suddenly spread across his face, and he opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. His instinctively gaze slid to her stomach, followed by his hands.
"You're not kidding, are you? How… How long have you known?"
"No, I'm not kidding. Not too long, I wasn't sure until this morning," she replied quietly, but she was already smiling from the huge weight that had fallen from her heart. She had to admit, she hadn't expected that reaction.
Neal still didn't quite know what to say, and Emma slowly sat up. But before she could prepare herself, he suddenly hugged her tightly.
"You have no idea how happy I am!" He grinned wider and buried his face into her neck.
"I think I can guess," she smiled, then hissed softly. Neal squeezed her too hard. "Relax, tiger," she laughed to herself, and he immediately loosened his grip.
"Sorry. Anyway, I had something planned for the two of us tonight," he remarked, but at the same moment, his phone began to ring."So…" Neal continued, ignoring the call, but she stopped him.
"Pick up. You can always tell me afterward, and it might be important."
"No more important than this," he insisted.
She shook her head disapprovingly, and without hesitation, she dug into his bag to pull out his phone, pressing it into his hands. The caller ID told her it was David. "If I know my brother, you better answer it."
Neal pursed his lips irritably but lifted the phone to his ear. "What?!" he growled at David on the other end, his tone irritated.
The answer clearly didn't lighten his mood, his face made her downright anxious.
"David… I just need half an hour! You can definitely hold the front until then," he almost begged, and Emma found that rather strange.
She began to sharpen her ears with interest.
"Neal! When this is done, you can do it in much quieter and more intimate conditions. We need you now! So get your shit together and get your ass in here!"
David raised his voice so much that even she could understand every single word.
Neal angrily ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. "We have to go," he announced in a grim voice, rising from the ground, helping her.
He idly dusted off his pants, delaying the inevitable as much as possible.
"What happened?"
"The newly settled Vampire clan and the new pack of Werewolves are wreaking havoc in the mall downtown. I need to get there… David and the others need backup," he confessed as he rocked from one foot to the other.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"But…" Neal's gaze shone with fear, and his restlessness had caught her eye, though Emma didn't understand what was wrong with him. Normally, he threw himself into fights like this, but now he seemed hesitant.
"Is there something else?"
"No. Come on, I'll take you home…" He lowered his head, took her hand and they walked back to the black Land Rover LRX parked at the edge of the clearing.
The SUV wasn't his own, legally it belonged to the Guild, but it had been on loan to Neal for some time.
"Neal, we don't have time for that, I'm coming with you," she stated in an authoritative tone, but he just shook his head.
"There are too many creatures there, they've gone completely nuts. I'm not taking you there!"
"Yes, you will! I'm not arguing with you, Neal. And besides, I have the gun David gave me yesterday," she added, trying to convince him. There was no time to waste.
"It's worth very little against them," he said, shaking his head.
"It's filled with silver," she lied easily, just so he would finally relent.
"Why are you so damn stubborn?"
She took that as his agreement, and started running, hearing Neal picking up speed behind her as well. She yanked open the car door and threw herself into the passenger seat. After buckling up, she rummaged in her bag to change the magazine in her Glock. Meanwhile, Neal put the key in the ignition and secured his seatbelt as well.
"Where did it happen?" she asked as they sped through the suburban streets.
"At the new mall. About six hundred people are trapped inside, and they're already being thrown off the roof deck," Neal replied.
The speedometer slowly moved to 55 mph. "Neal, slow down!" Emma hissed through her lips as she squeezed the edge of the seat with whitened fingers.
"You told me to hurry," he grinned, and she rolled her eyes. "What if I dropped you off somewhere?" He gave her a hopeful look, but she shook her head.
"I want to go with you," she declared firmly, and Neal punched the steering wheel in rage.
"You can't come with me! I won't let you, especially now that…" he paused in agitation, then his gaze landed on her, and he looked much more determined. "You're not coming. Period. Get out of the car."
He slammed on the brakes, and the car came to a stop in front of a 24-hour supermarket. He stared at her expectantly. Emma decided to switch tactics, pinning her gaze directly on his crotch.
"Emma, don't look at me like that."
"Then let's go, Neal!"
"No!"
At that moment, his phone started ringing again and David's name flashed on the display.
"Start the car!" she snarled angrily. "If David gets hurt because of us…" She didn't need to finish the sentence, Neal pulled back out onto the road again.
-/-
"You stay here in the car and wait for me. Don't get out unless there's a problem and-"
"Stop it, Neal. I'll be fine, I know how to shoot a gun and I've got good aim!"
"Neal, for God's sake, hurry up!"
Her brother, leaning over the railing of the roof garden, yelled down to them. Much of the three-story building was already in flames, and the glass walls of the first floor lay in tiny shards on the sidewalk, covering the several dozens of bodies that lay in front of the mall.
"Please, Emma, don't come after me. Promise me!"
Emma knew he wouldn't leave until she agreed. "All right, fine," she sighed.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
Before she could say anything, he pulled his favorite Desert Eagle pistol out of one of his holsters and ran toward the building. She watched him go for a few seconds until he disappeared into the maze of shops.
She nestled uneasily in her seat, and her gun nearly slipped from her hands. Her palms were covered in sweat, and she was growing more nervous by the second. Her courage began to disappear into a bottomless pit.
After a few minutes, she heard a loud crash from her right. Trembling, she raised her gun and looked to the side. At first, she saw nothing, then she noticed a new body among the others. A young boy, probably ten or twelve, lay on the ground, his limbs twisted the wrong way, and a huge pool of blood already growing under his head.
Her stomach began to churn, and she was about to turn her head away from the gruesome sight when another body slammed to the asphalt, just a few feet from the car.
At that moment, she made up her mind. She shoved a spare magazine into her pocket and quickly jumped out of the vehicle. Without looking anywhere, she ran into the mall through one of the shattered windows of a store.
It was a simple, relatively insignificant clothing store, but dozens of women lay on the floor. All of them had had their throats slit open, they were dead, of course, and the floor was soaked with their blood. The cashier, clutching the register, still had a receipt in her hand.
Emma tried to breathe through her mouth and ignore the bodies. Over the years, she'd had the unfortunate opportunity to get used to them, but no matter how many times she encountered one, she could never be completely impervious to it.
She cut through the store and headed straight for the escalator. On her way, she avoided the fountain, its waters already glistening bright red.
When she finally arrived at her destination, she found that the escalator was out of service, so she took two steps at a time and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Both the first and second floors proved empty, but the higher she got, the more the heat from the fire rose to an almost unbearable degree. She tied her sweater around her waist and stopped unsteadily before the last step.
The sounds of the brawl filtered out clearly, not even the loud crackling of the fire could drown them out. For now, the flames hadn't reached dangerous proximity, and luckily, the building was mostly made of non-combustible materials.
Roars, gunshots, crashing. Thunderous explosions. Frozen, Emma lingered at the foot of the stairs leading to the last floor, staring upward hopefully.
Surely everything would be all right. Neal, David, and the others would soon emerge at the top, with smiles on their lips as if nothing had happened. And they would go home safely.
A few minutes passed while she was idle. She had a hard time convincing herself to go upstairs. Neal and David would certainly be furious, but she'd taken their anger any day rather than their deaths. And besides, they would definitely benefit from a little extra help. If it could be classified as such.
She was one of the Mages, but a rather lousy one when it came to her abilities. She was only a low-level Seer, nothing more.
Clutching her Glock with both hands, she came up the stairs. The screams grew sharper and louder. Plenty of people could be stuck upstairs, but the path leading down seemed clear.
What were they waiting for? Why didn't they just run away and escape? Emma found it really strange.
She slowed her pace, confused by the humans' behavior. It just didn't feel right.
The cool, night air blew into her face as soon as she reached the rooftop. Most of the overturned tables and umbrellas were on fire, chairs broken into pieces. Most of them, ironically, were used by Vampires as stakes. They used them as weapons to kill the humans.
After only a few seconds, she heard an angry roar. "Emma, watch out!"
Immediately she spun around looking for the source of the danger. David was the one yelling at her, probably not without reason. She didn't have to search long, she immediately noticed the fully transformed, nearly six-foot-tall Werewolf charging towards her.
She only had a few seconds to react. Someone was calling her name again, desperation clear in their tone. She couldn't deal with that now, she would help them later… if she survived until then because if she missed, she was dead.
She aimed at the beast as best she could, right between its eyes. Her gun was already filled with silver bullets that would stop it. Assuming she hit it at all…
She pulled the trigger and the bullet hit the wolf, inches from her target, right in one of its eyes. He howled in pain and finally came to a stop. She took the opportunity to shoot half the magazine into the wolf.
She gasped for air, her heart pounding in her throat, and slowly she began to realize that the end of her life was a hair's breadth away. She didn't lower the gun, but still clutched it convulsively. The smoke burned her eyes, tears filled them to the brim, and she could see almost nothing. The wind wasn't helping either, carrying the gray mist right into her face. She gasped as if she had just run several miles and her lungs were thoroughly filled with smoke.
She forced herself to open her eyes and look around. She started stumbling through rubble and bodies, but so far she hadn't seen any movement, only heard the sounds. The battle was definitely not over yet.
She walked blindly for a few yards, but her fingers didn't slip from the trigger for even a second. She had to find Neal and David.
At last, she emerged from the cloud of smoke, but she could only blink her eyes, the world looming around her was quite blurry. Instinctively, she crouched against the barricade, for the hail of bullets was almost as thick as the cloud of smoke. A few of them were barely a few inches from her, and she curled up as best she could.
She tried to assess the situation and find her brother and Neal and the other Hunters she knew. Robin and Leo were only a few feet away from her and they both seemed fine. David, on the other hand, was dealing with a Vampire that was dangerously close to the railing.
He was having a hard time with the creature, she could clearly see that. Without thinking, she instinctively crawled towards him, pressing herself against the barrier the whole time. Silver bullets weren't worth much against Vampires, but at least they slowed them down, and the wounds caused by silver left a mark on their perfect skin.
When she was close enough, she fired three shots at the Vampire. She missed the first, the second lodged in his thigh, and the third slammed into his side. He let out a roar and staggered furiously on the bloodied, slippery floor. He lost his balance, toppled over, and finally, David managed to drive a stake through his already-dead heart.
David didn't even look up, he didn't seem to care where the life-saving shot came from, he immediately moved on to his next task.
There were quite a few Hunters here who she didn't recognize. Slowly but surely, they managed to push the Werewolves and Vampires back towards the flames.
Emma quickly wiped her sweaty brow and looked through the ranks of Hunters once more. Neal wasn't among them.
Her heart squeezed in her chest and she turned her head in alarm, but other than the cowering, screaming humans and corpses, she saw nothing.
She stood there confused and turned her head back around the place. There were no other Hunters she hadn't counted yet, every one of them was heading for the beasts.
A few raindrops fell on her face, the wind picked up, and an inhumanly loud rumble of thunder slit through her ears. Followed by a white light zigzagging through the black sky, blinding her for a moment.
"Neal!" her voice echoed like a hysterical scream, but no answer came.
When she opened her eyes again, a tall shadow unfurled from the cloud of smoke that covered the other end of the rooftop garden.
Immediately, she began to run, racing past the glass dome on the third floor. In the depths of the building, the flames grew larger and larger…
"Emma, stop! Don't!" Neal's voice came from the opposite direction, and she paused, turning away from the smoke and the shadow's owner in confusion.
To her surprise, Neal was standing barely ten feet away from her, shirtless. He never had a habit of showing off his body, no matter how nice it was. He had fine abs (not as defined as David's or Robin's), but now he was covered in blood and soot. Water dripped from him and thankfully, she didn't see any wounds.
"Behind you!" he called out to her.
His voice trembled with fear and he raised his pistol to fire, and for a moment it seemed he was aiming for her head. She turned, but it was too late. The elbow of the fast-approaching Vampire landed on her face.
For a few seconds, everything around her went dark, she felt like her face was going to split in two. She staggered, and suddenly the bloody ground came dangerously close to her face, and soon her head hit the ground with a thud.
She squinted her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them again, thankfully the world wasn't spinning in a crazy dance. But she couldn't hear anything. She knelt down and swallowed hard. It was as if a plug had been pulled out of her ears, the sounds returning in one fell swoop. She glanced back at Neal again.
He'd managed to wound the Vampire, but the beast didn't seem to be giving up. He swung his knee into Neal's stomach, wrenching the weapon from his hand, punching him in the face with it. Neal stumbled, but luckily, his legs didn't give out. The bloodsucker grabbed him by the arm, dropped the gun, and whipped out a roughly ten-inch-long blade. He aimed it directly at Neal's heart, but her boyfriend dodged the stab. However, the Vampire held him tight, so he couldn't completely avoid it, the blade digging into his shoulder.
At Neal's scream, her blood froze in her veins, and her hands holding the Glock trembled. Immediately, she took aim at the Vampire. She fired until the magazine was empty. Several bullets drilled into the beast's head and body, and quite a few missed him, too. But she got what she wanted, and the Vampire slumped to the ground. She didn't think he was dead, but she definitely put him out of commission for a while.
Quickly, she rose to her feet and ran to Neal, who was leaning against the barrier, trying to tear the dagger from his flesh. He was panting heavily, blood dripping in thick streams from his shoulder.
She dug out the spare magazine when she reached him and tried to slip it into the pistol, but her hands were still shaking too much.
Then, suddenly, Neal's gun went off. She looked over her shoulder in horror. Five fully transformed Werewolves were galloping toward them. Desperately, she tried to snap the magazine into place, but it was jolting too much in her hands.
She knew she would die if Neal didn't take them out in time, and with his injured shoulder, his aim would hardly be accurate. She tried to force herself to calm down, but the panic coiled in her stomach like an insidious snake. She was finished… They were finished.
Two more shots rang out, and one of the wolves rebounded with a harsh, deep howl. The Glock made a click, and the magazine was finally inserted. She turned to face the monsters. She tried to aim with a clear head, but it was much harder than ever. It wasn't just her life on the line. Hers, Neal's, … and the little one's.
Neal took out the second one with a single shot, and Emma aimed full fire at the one running in front, backing away in the process.
She hit him square in the shoulder, but it was like hitting him with a rock, even though her magazine was filled with silver bullets. Panic rose in her throat and began to thrust backward at double speed. Neal took out the ones closest to them, and she took aim at the ones left behind. If she could just shoot one of their eyes, maybe that one would stop.
She started firing again, trying to focus. But it was too late. They were barely three feet away from her, ready to pounce.
Her body completely locked down, she could only trust in her blind luck and Neal. That was it. Of the two, she had more faith in Neal.
The first wolf leapt up from the ground and nearly swept her away, but Neal's bullets dug into his front legs. He fell forward into the rubble with his muzzle foaming, his legs useless.
She immediately aimed at the next one. This time, she couldn't miss. But the beast was already in the air. It leapt over her head, straight into Neal. She didn't understand why Neal was holding back his power. He could fight off the wolf with his sheer magic, he was powerful enough to simply do so.
Meanwhile, the wounded wolf got up again, but this time his target was Emma. He probably thought the other one would take care of Neal. As she had previously planned, she aimed for the wolf's eyes, but she couldn't hit them. Then the beast was too close to her.
His teeth chattered inches from her throat, and his claws bit into her shoulder. He shoved her away, and she crashed into the barrier. Her side went numb from the force of the blow in moments, but she didn't even have time to comprehend her predicament, the wolf was already towering over her.
She was a hairsbreadth away from having his claws in her stomach as she put the gun to his throat and fired as many bullets into him as she could. The wolf howled, rolling back its eyes, but it raised its huge paw again, and this time it found its target.
Her breath caught in her throat from the blow, and a pained groan escaped her lips. His claws slowly sunk into her stomach, pinning her to the ground, and the wolf weakly opened its jaw, angling for her throat.
Help came from her right, three shots rang out, all hitting the wolf's side. He whimpered one last time and turned away from her…
"Emma, for fuck's sake!" David slid to the ground next to her and knelt down, trembling.
She wanted to ask where Neal was, but her mouth disobeyed. Her brain dulled, she began to go numb. Summoning her remaining reserves of strength, she put her arm around David's neck and forced herself into a sitting position. She screamed against the stabbing pain in her stomach and hunched forward.
"Emma, are you okay?"
It was the dumbest question Neal had ever asked her. But if he was able to ask and, judging by the approaching footsteps, he couldn't be in much trouble…
Her face was streaked with tears, and she tried not to faint. But David suddenly jumped up beside her and ran off.
"David…" she mumbled unintelligibly, then looked up at Neal.
He didn't seem to have suffered another wound. However, he looked immensely exhausted. He was pale and frightened, but thankfully he was walking towards her on his own two feet.
But he, too, stopped and turned his head to the side in surprise. What had they heard that she couldn't?
Finding it hard to keep her eyes open, she blinked shallowly at Neal. He started to retreat to the barrier, his rifle lying on the ground behind him. She forced herself to look back and a sharp cry burst from her exhausted lungs. One of the five Werewolves rushed at him.
The wolf's eyes were bloodshot and every inch of her trembled by his roar, his claws scraping the surface of the ground.
With all its might, it slashed at a helpless Neal. It all happened in a millisecond. The wolf's claws dug into Neal's shoulder, and the momentum pushed them over the barrier. They shattered the glass dome, tangled into each other, and fell into the blazing depths of the building.
#cssns21#cssns 2021#cs ff#captain swan#cs fic#killian jones#emma swan#emma x killian#once upon a time#cs au#captain swan supernatural#TWPYR#my fic#captain swan ff#captain swan fic#captain swan fanfic
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My Favourite Things (Nestor Oceteva x Female!Reader)
A/N: The world always needs more Nestor in it. Those braids, those tacky purple flowered shirts, that stoicism, all of him. @thegirlwhowritesfics this one is for you!
Prompt: 21. “Bath and Body Works was having a sale on their holiday scents so I bought twenty bottles of lotion.”
Word Count: 1.9K words
Playlist: My Favourite Things - The Supremes [Spotify] [YouTube]
Warnings: None.
“When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don’t feel so bad”
My Favourite Things – The Supremes
She scanned the driveway for the millionth time. Grateful that it was still empty. Only she and her car parked there. She inhaled deeply, running through her explanation to make sure she had it down pat. There wasn’t any room for error. She needed it to sound natural and aloof. If she slipped up even a little bit, he’d catch on to her lie. She couldn’t have that. She’d be taking this one to the grave.
Resolved and prepared, she looped the handles of all the bags onto her forearms and hopped out of the car. She hit the pavement and scurried toward the front door. Even though he wasn’t home right now, it didn’t mean he couldn’t be well onto his way back. She’d have to find the right hiding place for everything. She fought to come up with areas of the house he didn’t frequent often but kept coming up short. He was hands-on in everything, going out of his way to be as involved as he could, even on the late nights when she was dead asleep, and he was only just getting home from work.
As she unlocked the door, she was reminded of the few times she’d found him home during the day, only to find out that the boys dropped him off for a quick shower and change before they were scheduled to come back to pick him up. That particular thought startled her. She knew it was a longshot, but there was a possibility he might be home. It didn’t happen often, but it happened enough for her to notice the routine.
Pushing the door open, she stuck her head around the opening and inspected the front hall. No discarded shoes, no holster hung up, nothing. It was utterly devoid of him. She let out a long breath and slipped past the threshold, letting the door click shut behind her before she leaned back against it. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. The racing of her heart still going strong, but the anticipation of being caught lessened.
After giving herself a chance to calm down a bit, she knew she needed to get down to business. There was no telling how long she had. She needed to hide her transgressions and all the evidence before he stepped through that door. Dropping the bags down, she ripped off her coat and shoes. She draped her jacket down on the side table before bending to grab the bags up and tore off into the main area.
She glanced around, several options coming to mind, but none of them seemed to work well for her plan. She figured she’d have to divide everything up and hide them in separate places all over. She let out a frustrated groan at herself. She should’ve thought this through a bit more before losing herself. However, a sale was a sale. There was no way she was turning down one of those.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she decided it was in her best interest to have a drink and then come up with a proper game plan. Trying to hide things in a panic would make her work sloppy, and she couldn’t have that. Setting the bags down on the counter, she went about getting herself a nice cold glass of wine.
She struggled with the cork for a short moment before managing to get it popped out nice and clean.
Pouring herself a generous glass, she stared at the bags in front of her. She laughed at herself. Hadn’t they just been discussing her obsession with scented candles and lotions? He was probably going to kill her when he found out.
“No,” She spoke out loud to herself, “Not when but if.”
She was going to do her damnedest to keep this her little secret. He never needed to know. They weren’t for him anyway. She huffed to herself, feeling confident in her abilities. She learned from the best, hadn’t she? He’d always been open to teaching her some minor tricks of the trade. A few for fun but most out of precaution for if anything happened to her or him. He wanted her to be prepared.
She leaned back against the counter, inhaling the sweet scent of her drink before taking a long drink. Her nerves settled nicely as she let herself relax and properly devise a plan to hide her purchases.
As she was about to start unpacking the bags to section everything off, she heard the distinct latch of the front door and then listened as his voice carried down the hallway. She squeaked and ran to the sink, dumping her glass into it and creating a commotion. She screwed up her face at all the noise and called back out to him in greeting. She spun around in a circle, panicking over where to hide the bags when she decided a quick solution was to shove them into the cupboard under the sink.
Grabbing the bags all up in her hands, she ripped the doors open and shoved them all in. A few bottles fell out onto the floor, and she cursed before picking them up and tossing them in efficiently and slamming the doors shut. She popped back up in time to walk around the other side of the counter. Leaning forward, she grabbed her glass again before trying her best to get comfortable in the bar stool while she waited for him.
~(MMC)~
“Querida, ya he vuelto.” He called out as he pushed the front door closed behind him.
He heard the clang of dishes in the sink and chuckled. He wondered if she broke something, but when she called back, he could hear the panic in her voice. He paused in taking his shoes off, standing completely still and reached for his weapon. He heard several more thuds and a slam of doors.
He tilted his head to the side, taking a moment to listen. He couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, aside from her rapid footsteps in the other room. He glanced around him, assessing his immediate area but found nothing out of place. Her shoes were placed on the mat, her purse was hanging on the hook, and her jacket was hung over the table—all standard instances of their daily routines.
He reached for the coat and hung it up like he did every day when he got home, but this time he kept his other hand trained on his firearm. He let it sit in the holster, at the ready.
“How was your day, mi amor?” He called out again, waiting to hear if there was more duress in her tone.
She answered him quickly, a subtle hint of the strain in her voice but nothing that would have him assume she was being held up by an enemy. With deliberate footsteps, making sure he was heard, he came around the corner and found her sitting in one of the bar stools. Her back was straight, and she was gripping the stem of a wine glass. He could see the white of her knuckles and knew that she was pressed. However, he didn’t know about what.
He scaled the room but again, found nothing to be suspicious about. Breathing in deeply, he let go of the Glock and stepped up to her.
“Hey baby,” He grinned as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
She leaned into his touch and smiled back, “Hey.”
He could feel the tension in her body but chalked it up to a stressful day. He didn’t often find her having a drink this early without cause. He reached for her glass, and she chuckled while he took a sip. He kissed her head again and then rounded the island into the kitchen to grab himself a beer from the fridge.
“You’re home early today,” She commented, “Or is this another stop to change and then go again?”
He shook his head with a grin, “No, I’m home for the day now.”
She hummed in response while he pulled his keys out of his pocket and used them to pop the cap off his bottle. He tossed the bottle cap into the sink and reclined into the counter behind him, gazing over at her. She was looking down into her glass as she took another sip. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but there wasn’t anything to indicate that he was right in his suspicions.
With a sigh, he tilted the lip of the bottle to his mouth when something caught his eye. Without any pause, he zeroed in on the partially opened cupboard door across from him. He ran through the succession of noise that he walked in on a few moments ago. Flicking his gaze back to her, he could see the agitation emanating from her.
He raised an eyebrow at the scene before him. She wasn’t one to keep secrets, ever. He felt his curiosity peak. What could she be trying to hide from him and be failing so horribly at? He almost let out a chuckle but schooled it into a smirk instead.
He deliberately knocked his knee against the door, only to hear the sound of several things falling and watching as she cringed. She dropped her head between her hands and pulled her shoulders in. She was hiding from him. He backed away and reached down to pull the door all the way open only to have a mountain of body lotion bottle tumble from within.
He blinked, trying to comprehend what he was looking at before letting out an incredulous laugh. He bent down and swiped up one bottle, examining the packaging.
She squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched up her nose, “Bath and Body Works was having a sale on their holiday scents, so I bought twenty bottles of lotion.”
“I can see that.” He murmured, still reading the blurb written on the side of the bottle. He arched an eyebrow in question, “Is Candy Cane a scent you needed to have?”
She let out a huffed laugh, “Hey! You can’t knock it until you’ve smelt it.”
She reached across the island, grabbed the bottle out of his hand, flicked the top open and poured a dollop onto the back of her hand. She massaged it in and then lifted her hand to him, inviting him to take a sniff. With a skeptical expression, he took her hand in his and raised it to his nose. He inhaled, closing his eyes as he did. He licked his lips before folding her fingers and kissing her knuckles.
“Edible.” He smirked at her, his eyes gazing up her arm.
She felt the flush of heat run up her neck at his tone. She opened her mouth to speak, but he held a finger up to his. She bit down on her lip to keep quiet while he lifted their joined hands up and he circled around the counter to stand in front of her. He flipped her arm over, exposing her wrist to him, and he nibbled on it lightly. She melted at the affection and ran a finger down the line of his jaw.
He peeked up at her and tugged her forward abruptly, circling both his arms around her hips.
“We’re going to have to talk about this obsession you have with that store,” He mumbled.
She shook her head and pulled him into a fiery kiss, “Another time, we have more important things to do right now.”
#nestor oceteva#nestor oceteva x reader#nestor oceteva imagines#nestor oceteva imagine#mayans mc#mayans mc imagines#mayans mc imagine#12 days of ficmas 2020#holiday prompts
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Back from the dead like I'm Jesus
Skip to the next track if you think that we are facetious
Ruby da Cherry ripe for the season
$uicideboy$, yeah, we still breathin' (ahh!)
I'm the black sheep of this music industry shit
Used to be a flock of us, but now the flocks depletin'
7th Ward Charizard, I melt the ice you claim is freezin'
'Cause I was born in April, I'm the shiny diamond heathen
Y'all fuckboys who claimed they push keys, all deleted
Them fuckboys who claimed they got swag
All competing for the same Gucci sweater
That I been had the receipt, bitch
I'm the fucking wave
Y'all just stuck in a bed, in a room, on a cruise
Throwin' up 'cause you seasick
While your bitch is cheating on you, I'm the one who beatin'
I'm just sayin', y'all think that I'm playin', but I ain't got a reason to
98' Benz coupe looking like Pikachu
99' Benz coupe looking like Beetlejuice
Whatever
Who gives a fuck? I still feel like a teen recluse
'Bout to give these needles use
Numb me up, uh
Numb me up, yeah
Numb me up, aye
Numb me up, yeah
Numb me up, aye
Numb me up, yeah
Numb me up, aye
We're just gonna wait here for a little
While until things quiet down, if you don't mind?
Hear no evil (evil)
See no evil (evil)
Speak no evil (right)
Find myself speaking to ghosts a bit more often now (yeah)
Devils die too, Lucifer bound for the ground (pussy)
Get some money, watch how many hands come reachin' out (shut up, what?)
Lit up my cigarette, another accident
Fuck anybody that thinks I'm a saint
Fuck anybody that wants me to change (what?)
No one changes ever, that's why my Glock's on the dresser
And if I'm keepin' it real, I'm never-ever lackin' (try me)
Motherfuckers know $lick ain't never-ever slackin' (try me)
Whether the shotgun, or the 9 millimeter
They be knowin' $crimmy keepin' the heater
Nonetheless, got my people up my ass
Worried I'mma blow my brains on the glass
I smoke a cigarette and laugh, kettles calling pots black
But sometimes I get violent, silent (shh)
The fuck I'm supposed to do when Cut Throat always the problem?
That's why Cut Throat cuts throats with the sharp blade, though
Got my Faygo on Easter
Signed Germ, said, "ball like the Lakers"
DN$3, pipe up, what it be
They know they scared of it
$uicide dead boys, keep a tribe with me
G*59, don't give a fuck, boy
I don't give a fuck, boy (what?)
Don't give a fuck, boy (yeah)
Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil (right)
Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil (yeah)
Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil, bitch
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