but the gun and hand ended up coming from a slightly off angle and yeah

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!

“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.


The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)


"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)


“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)


Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

Restless Nights

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Neither of you meant for it to happen, but now Bucky can’t sleep without you, and you can’t sleep without him.

Warnings: fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, third-person, very little plot (just something fun, idk), unedited, more trash writing (but like, trashier than usual because I’m trapped in an angst-ridden hole with my other fics)

A/N: Forgot this was stuck in my drafts. I kinda rushed to finish this because there was one huge section that was incomplete and I didn’t want to leave it untouched for another month. So, here it is. I’ll find another day to edit it. Think of this as a rough copy. It might be choppy. Whoops. This is more like four drabbles put together. 

Word Count: 2,102


WHEN BUCKY’S ATTITUDE necessitated a slap to the wrist, Tony, with all the subtlety of a Times Square billboard, decided to scour the Tri-State Area for the best therapist that the Stark’s money could afford. It was a warning. No words were said out loud, but the message was pretty damn clear: don’t taint the newest member of the team, or the good Stark Avenger name.

Bucky liked to think he’d come a long way since Siberia. Well, that wasn’t entirely true because he hadn’t exactly changed for the better, seeing as how he’d become something of a brooding little asshole, lately. Gone was the silent man that kept to himself. Bucky cemented his spot on the team as the sardonic bastard. It wasn’t his fault, per se—the nightmares had taken a toll on both his body and his mood. He’d expected this. What he didn’t, though, was that this recently acquired snark would be contagious. (The amount of foul language that had been slung around was annoying Steve to no end.)

He wasn’t going to be holding hands while singing “Kumbaya” with the other Avengers anytime soon; Bucky had tried to kill most of them back in his Winter Soldier days, which was still a sore subject for everybody involved, even though they were pretending it was A-okay. But it was one particular person whom he didn’t get along with. What was more disconcerting was that hey, Bucky didn’t try to gut her with a knife or pull a gun on her so he couldn’t put a finger on why they were at each others’ throats. 

It was just his luck that they’d be stuck together for an entire week.

He threw back his bed covers—then hastily fixed them because God forbid they be undone—and left his room at three in the morning. This was what Bucky’s life had boiled down to: a series of restless nights where he couldn’t catch a fucking break. Suffice to say, he wasn’t enjoying it very much.

Despite his heightened auditory senses, they’d dull somewhat depending on what he was listening to. Bucky could make the noises from the common room fade to background noise, but maybe he was just wanting to pick a fight at this hour. He shuffled down the hall, very un-assassin-like of him and with a disgruntled expression on his face. “You’ve got the TV on too loud.”

She didn’t bother turning around. Bucky’s presence was just a momentary lapse in her pay-per-view experience, and she bet that if she pissed him off enough, he’d go away. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. “I could hear your knees creaking the second you stepped out, and you’re giving me shit for having the TV on too loud?”

“I’m not that old,” he grumbled.

“You really want me to point out your age?”

“Are you getting smart with me?”

“I’ve always been smart. You’ve just been too much of an idiot to notice.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, probably a good comeback that he didn’t wholeheartedly feel like vocalizing.

“Look, I’m sorry.” She figured he was going to return to bed, so she invited him—it was only a peace offering—to watch a program that she couldn’t place the name of. “You know as well as I do that you’ll be up the rest of the night. Might as well sit your ass on this couch and stay here,” she said, patting the spot next to her. Okay, it wasn’t so much of an invitation as it was a demand, but whatever. She had to admit that under all that doom and gloom, Bucky had some manners up his sleeve. Even if he came to the common room to bother her, she knew that he’d eventually leave her be.

And as one of the two people in such a gigantic space, she decided that she didn’t want to drive him away anymore. Loneliness didn’t suit her. 

Bucky took a seat. “When’s the last time you slept?” he asked, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to make himself comfortable. 

“Took a twenty-minute nap like, two hours ago.”

“Hardly think that counts.”

“What about you, then? Oh—” She bent forward to grab the bowl of fruits on the table. “You’re a plum guy.”

He took one up in his hand. “Full four hours.”


“Yeah,” he answered with a yawn. 

She felt something heavy on her shoulder. Her eyes found their way to Bucky, who’d apparently fallen asleep. She wasn’t sure if she should call him beautiful—Tony and Sam insisted that she not use that word around grown ass men—but Bucky fit the bill, and there was nothing better to describe the sharp angle of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes. His lips were slightly parted. His chest rose and fell in even breaths. Peaceful, handsome when he didn’t look like he was seconds away from killing somebody. Well, he was still attractive when he was doing that too. But she’d never tell him that if her life fucking depended on it. 

She didn’t understand how he’d gotten to that point so fast, but as her eyelids began to drift close, she found out how easy it was. 

BUCKY WOKE UP first. Something was missing. It was that feeling that accompanied him so often, of being ready at a moment’s notice, high-strung. His muscles were relaxed. He didn’t know how he ended up with his head in her lap. His eyes cut to the clock on the wall.

9:30 a.m

That was the most sleep he’d had since he could remember. Bucky detached himself from her. He got up to search for a blanket, but when he came back with one in his hands, she was already awake. “We slept on the couch,” he said.

She rolled her shoulders back. “Must be why I feel so good.”

He looked anywhere but at her. “I fell asleep on you.”

“Really? Thought it was a bear of some sorts.”

Was that an insult? Was he soft and cuddly? There was a quizzical expression on his face. 

“You were snoring. It was kind of cute.”

“Can you blame me?” He tried to ignore the fact that she called him cute. Not directly, but still. “It was nice.”

“I think we—Bucky,” she said abruptly. 


She spun him around, because there were gear-clad figures propelling down the window with guns. 

Yeah, they didn’t seem very friendly.  


THAT HAD BEEN bad—we’re talking DEFCON 1, bad. They’d basically fumigated the tower (thank God for the Tony’s suits) to corral the HYDRA pests with smoke bombs and a hail of bullets. Bucky and her took a couple of hours to help the ‘janitors’ relocate the bodies. They informed Tony of what went down, and might have left out the fact that his white leather couches were now painted red.

But it was a job well done, so, grabbing milkshakes at the diner down the street was the only plausible kind of celebration.

They’d kicked ass, but they kicked ass while functioning at fifty percent. She was glaring at him from across the booth’s table, a mirror image of him with tired eyes, tattered clothes, and fresh scrapes on her face. With the back of her hand, she wiped the smeared blood from the corner of her mouth. “Let me use your body for my own selfish purposes, Buck. Look at me. I’m barely hanging on.”

“Right, because what more could I want from such a dysfunctional relationship?” he deadpanned. Bucky scrawled a provisional contract on the back of their receipt in that infamous chicken-scratch of his. Once he deemed it worthy, he slid it over to her. There must’ve been a number of spelling errors and loopholes, thanks to his fatigue, but he didn’t want to waste another second hashing out meaningless bullshit just for the heck of it. They could save that for later. Bucky rested his elbows on the table, warily gauging her reaction. “As long as we’re sleeping together, consider this a mutual agreement.”

“At least I’ll finally get some rest,” she said with a yawn. Her eyes barely skimmed over the paper. There was a little detail in there that didn’t agree with her, but they’d straighten that out, no problem. She stuffed the contract into her pocket, satisfied that the crinkling sound signaled the end of a hassle-free negotiation. “Okay.” She clapped her hands together and had a dopy smile eased onto her face as she rose abruptly from the booth. “Off to my bed.”

A spoon clattered against the table, wrenching her from her daydream. “Like hell we are,” he growled.

“Excuse me?”

Bucky, ever the neat-freak, couldn’t resist tampering with shit around the tower and scrubbing the goddamn life out surfaces with disinfectant wipes. He harbored a certain hatred—make that a relatively substantial disgust—towards clutter and Bucky wasn’t indisposed to being called a die-hard stickler for cleaning. “I’ve been in your room. It’s a fucking pig-sty in there.”

She wasn’t usually messy. In fact, she kept everything tidy for the most part. It all began with a departure from her usual routine. After the first mission she told herself she’d grab the vacuum the next day, but the more missions she went on, the more excuses that had kept piling up like the mountains of crap (figuratively, to be clear) that was littering her floor. It’d been downhill from there since. “Listen up, Goldilocks. I know you’d love to organize my closet by color and unclog the faucet to your heart’s content. So don’t deny that this is a win-win situation for the both of us.”

He would’ve. Goddamn it, he would’ve arranged her furniture perpendicularly in ninety-degree angles and put her everyday tax receipts chronologically too, but he’d rather not admit that. Fuck no, Bucky Barnes didn’t just give in. He liked to have his affairs in order, and she was not upending his entire system—sleep be damned. He was starting to think that this arrangement of theirs had more cons than pros. “You said you agreed!”

“Yeah, but what’s a verbal confirmation against a written one?” she said with a shrug. “Semantics, really. Null and void.”

“That’s how you want to play this?”

Her voice was sweet. “Legally? Sure.”

“I read up on American government while I was in Bucharest. You know, in case I ever decided to come back here. Wanted to be a law-abiding citizen and all that considering how many I’ve broken with Steve.” He smirked when her face blanched. “Saying yes is just as binding as a signature. And if I recall, you said ‘okay.’”


He couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face. “You tried to lie to me. Rookie mistake, babe.”

“WHAT THE HELL are you wearing?”

There was nothing wrong with the Avengers long-sleeve she had on. “Clothes. You should try it,” she said, referring to a shirtless Bucky as she stepped out of his bathroom. 

“Skin-to-skin contact might increase the chances of us falling asleep by twenty percent,” he said, rattling off the statistic like he wasn’t totally crock full of shit. 

And if she thought she was getting toasty, it ended as soon as it started. Her blood went cold—cold enough to kick global warming’s ass and save the melting ice caps. “You expect to tough it out the rest of the night? Not all of us are blessed with acclimation to sub-zero temperatures, Bucky!”

“I want to feel you, not some mummified version of you swaddled in blankets and clothes,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “See this?” He gestured to his torso. “We’d be sharing body heat. So either find somebody else to sleep with or show me some skin, dollface.”

She scoffed, pulling the sweater over her head and slipping under the sheets. “Shut up before I strangle you.”

“Look, if that’s what you’re into…” he trailed off. “No complaints here.”  Bucky should’ve asked permission—he really should've—but he didn’t think twice before his hand traveled to her midriff. “Oh, fuck me. Skin’s so soft,” he mumbled, tracing circles into her waist. He was too far gone at this point.

And sure, she should’ve asked permission too—she really should've—but with the way he was touching her, she didn’t think there was any harm in pressing her lips against his neck briefly. It just felt right.

He moaned, and it was quiet and desperate. “This wasn’t part of the contract.”

“Really?” she asked, feigning innocence, “because it said that we’d be sleeping together and I think that’s open to interpretation.”

Rock & Yeol

Pairing: Reader x Chanyeol

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word count: 4,7K

Summary: You get invited to act in some hot scenes along side Chanyeol in his band’s new MV. Will it all be just acting or will something change?

This fanfic is a special birthday gift to my very good friend Valeria. I hope you like this gift I made for you and I wish you nothing but happiness in your life because you deserve it. Me and Chanyeol love you very much 💕 (but in different ways 😜)

When you thought about starting a rock & roll covers band you were just looking forward to wearing some awesome clothes, get free drinks at the bar and having cute guys lining up to get a date with you. But you have been playing the same old bars for what seems like ages, your clothes are practically made of sweat, the free drinks get boring pretty damn fast and instead of cute guys all you get is a bunch of idiots who think it’s ok to try to get their hands on you while you’re performing.

Tonight’s a Friday night, you just finished a gig at one of the usual spots and you played here so many times you feel like you know all the regulars. “I have to step out of the bar for a minute, after all this time my eyes should be better at dealing with the strong lights and cigarette smoke.” You said to your drummer.

You went outside and spent some time chatting to the bouncer before going back in and finding your band mates pointing you out to a guy you have never seen before. “Great, just what I needed…” You developed a strict no idiots policy but your band mates are not always helpful in telling guys to fuck off, and you usually end up having to dish out the fuck offs by yourself.

As he approached you you noticed that he’s pretty well dressed, and a second look at him tells you he’s not one of the usual idiots with some new clothes, so you decided to give him a break. “You totally rocked the house tonight.” Was the first thing he said to you.

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Inktober 15, 2017 - and an end of Voltron, Season 4 fanfic thing

What do you want with me?

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ]

After the meeting in which Allura granted Lotor sanctuary at the castle, Keith was the first to leave the room. His normally quiet footfall smacked of thunder down the wide corridors, but all he heard was the litany of doubts that the rest of Team Voltron had expressed, regularly interspersed with the one thing Shiro specifically said to him.

‘Keith, that’s enough.’

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Mistake - William Nylander

a drunk william nylander is a horny william nylander 

inspiration: “are you trying to turn me on?“ 

lowercase intended 

word count: 1606

warnings: nudity, steaminess

a/n: so this wasn’t requested buuuut i wrote it anyway  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope you all enjoy!!

Originally posted by rhartmans

you rubbed your hands together, your breath turning to mist in the cold toronto air. while the weather was chilly, you were boiling hot with rage. all you wanted was a nice night for yourself. you’d ran a bath, popped in a bath bomb, put on your favorite chill playlist, and poured yourself a glass of wine. you were right in the middle of putting your sheet face mask into place when your phone rang loudly, rudely interrupting ed sheeran as he sang about love and heartbreak.

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Promises c.h.


Summary: Gangmember!Y/N and gangmember!Calum made a promise to tell each other everything, but Calum breaks that when he goes after someone who was in Y/N’s past

Word count: 16,462

Warnings: language, violence, and some goryness

“Can you pass me my phone?” Calum requests.

“I don’t know, can I?” You reply whilst you make dinner for the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about them, but there are these things called limbs, and all you need to do is use your top limbs.” He fires back.

“Why don’t you use all of your limbs and get your phone.” You tell him.

“Shut up.” He laughs.

“Here,” you smile and throw him his phone, which he nearly drops. “I’m going to get in the shower, could you keep an eye on dinner for me?” You ask and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, sure, babe.” He nods and gives your lips a quick kiss before you wonder up the stairs. “Be careful!” He snickers.

“Fuck off, it was one fucking time! It just hurt to shoot for a few days.” You say, referring to the time you slipped over when you were getting out the shower last week. You’d slipped over and Calum came rushing in, thinking it was somone from another part of the city, but he found you laying on the bathroom tiles, clutching your shoulder, in your underwear, and laughing at yourself.

“Babe, what happened.” He laughs as he kneels down beside you.

“What does it look like, dumbass?” You question whilst raising an eyebrow.

“You fell over, and I can’t find anything me to care?” He answers with a question.

“Shut up, you love me, you’d get worried about me if I got a little scratch.” You accuse.

“Shut up,” he dismisses and picks you up, bridal style.

“Getting the treatment I deserve finally.” You sigh in bliss.

“Shut up or I’ll drop you.” He threats.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you eye him up.

“You sure about that, babygirl?” He looks down at you, before you get to fire off a remark, he pretends to drop you.

“Just sort me out, Cal, I don’t have time for your foolery.” You glare up at him.

“Don’t use those eyes on me, they are scary.” He chuckles.

Calum gingerly places you on the soft white sheets and his eyes trail down your body.

“Eyes up here, loverboy.” You tell him.

“Tell me when it hurts.” He ignores your statement and gently wraps his hand around your arm.

“It kinda hurts now.” You point out and he gives you a pointed look.

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know, and it hurts.” You reply.

“Shut up or I’ll hurt the other one.” He threats.

“You wouldn’t lay a finger on me.” You say and he puts a finger on your stomach. “Not like that!” You laugh.

“Just shut up and let me help you.” He laughs in annoyance.

“Fine.” You sigh.

Calum lifts your arm, causing your shoulder to move.

“Ow, yeah, it hurts there.” You wince in pain when he moves it at a certain angle.

“I think you’ve just bruised it or pulled a muscle, nothing major.” He concludes. “What a shame, you can’t do any work for a couple of days.” He says sarcastically.

Calum has never liked the business you are in. You’re both in the same gang, and although you’ve been in the industry longer than him, he isn’t very fond of what you do. He doesn’t mind it when you go on a mission with him, one of the boys, all of the boys, it’s when you go on your own or with certain people.

He doesn’t stop you, he’ll never do that, he can see the passion you have for the whole gang scene. He just worries about you, the amount of arguments you’ve had about you coming back later than you said or changed your plan without telling him.

On the other hand, sometimes he adores what you both do. He loves seeing the smirk on your face when you threaten people, the small smile you have when you get what you want from people, the wink you give when people see what you can actually do, the way you use and handle a gun perfectly, and the regular lustful looks you give to him.

There’s no doubt about it, there is always sexual tension if you are in the same room together. It usually dies down if you are both in there for quite a long time, but if you quickly pop back to the headquarters while on a mission, a look is thrown at you and Calum has to try and control himself.

You’ll quickly walk over to him and give him a kiss, he’ll place a hand on the small of your back, sometimes going south. He tries to listen to what you are saying about what you’ve completed so far, but he just focuses on your body. The leather jacket always gets him worked up. He usually ends up asking the other boys about what you were saying.

Walking out of your shared bedroom, making your way down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Checking on the dinner, you notice that Calum isn’t in here, nor any trace of him. “Cal?” You yell.

“Up here!” He yells back, from what sounds like the top of the house.

Putting the lid on the sourcepan, you start to walk up the stairs, and notice the ladder to the loft is down. Deciding to check up on him, you climb up the ladder.

“Hey, baby, have a nice shower?” He asks as he picks up a small hand gun off of the spare bed we have up here.

You almost have to stifle a laugh at how sweet he is being, yet he has a ton of weapons layed out infront of him.

“Yeah, it was good.” You nod and pick up a a knife, swirling it around your fingers.

“Didn’t slip over this time?” He teases but shuts up when you look between the knife and him.

“What are you doing?” You question and sit on a spot where there are no weapons.

“I’m just checking on some stuff, seeing if they are fully loaded and what ammunition we have.” He explains and throws the small gun over to the other side of the mattress.

“Why?” You question, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and watch his body language.

One of the many talents you have is detecting lies, you can see it as if it’s tattooed on their forehead. Some people you can detect easier than others, Calum you can suss out, he tends to raise his eyebrows ever so slightly. Sometimes you can read him but sometimes you can’t.

“Uh, I was bored waiting for you, so I came up here. I also don’t want to get caught off guard, if there are ever any emergencies or anything, you know?” He shrugs.

“Yeah,” you nod, not entirely convinced but let it pass, Calum always tells you what he is doing, business wise. He’ll tell you what mission he has to do and what he has to do. You do the same, but you are always a bit vague on what you actually have to do, or he’ll get worried and text you constantly or insist on coming with you, at least sending somone with you.

“How long until di-,” Calum gets interrupted by your phone ringing.

“Sorry, my boyfriend is calling me.” You tell him and answer the phone, making him playfully glare at you. “Hello?” You ask because you never actually got the choice to see the caller ID.

“Hey (Y/N), it’s Michael. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asks.

“Just me and Cal fucking.” You say.

“Eww, now I got that image in my mind. Although I have been in the same building as you when you guys were doing it.” He snickers.

“Shut up before you get a boner,” you reply. “Anyway, what’s up? I’ve got dinner going.”

“Marcus wants you to deliver some drugs to that teenager with the Range Rover.” Michael answers.

“Can’t one of you guys do it? I’m tired and I need to eat.” You whine.

“You’re closest.” He tells me.

“Yeah, but I still have to go to the headquarters’ warehouse.” You point out.

“You can bring Calum, Luke said.” He bribes.

“Your bribery doesn’t work, Clifford.” You sigh. “Anyway, why don’t you get off your ass and do it, I’m the one that sorted out that middle-aged man today.”

“Marcus says thank you,” he informs you and you hear some mumbling on the other end “and he also says you always have been a stubborn ass.”

“Ugh fine, I’ll do it but I’m bringing Calum with me. You owe me, Clifford. Oh, and tell Marcus to go fuck himself.” You say with a slight joking tone, and hang up, before stuffing your phone into your pocket.

“What’s going on?” Calum confusedly questions from the bed.

“I’ve gotta go deliver some drugs to some kid, do you wanna come with me.” You offer.

“You can bet your ass I’m going with you, it’s 8 pm.” He exclaims.

“It’s barely dark outside.” You huff in annoyance.

“It takes half an hour to get to the headquarters, it will basically be pitch black by the time we get there.” Calum exaggerates.

“It will be pitch black when we get home.” You correct and pick up a pistol from the bed, and tucking it into the back of your jeans. “Maybe I should bring a shot gun with me.” You joke and pick up the deadly thing.

“It would protect you.” Calum agrees and picks up a pistol himself.

“Really? I don’t think it would, it would probably only leave a scratch.” You sarcastically reply.

“I’m sure if you caught your skin on a part of it, it would probably sc-,”

You shut him up by kissing him. You find yourself doing that a lot, trying to silence his sassy comments. Sometimes to protect your ego and sometimes you just can’t handle his comments, even though it’s a bit hypocritical because you are just as sassy and quick witted as him.

Calum seems taken off guard by this and freezes for a second, before he places his hand on your hips and starts moving his lips against yours in sync. Calum begins to back you up to the closest flat surface, which happens to be a wall. Cal grips your thighs and you take that as a hint to jump, so you jump and wrap your legs around his hips, and he moves his hands towards your ass.

Calum disconnects his lips and connects his lips to your neck. “Babe, we have stuff to d-do.” You comment and bite your to suppress a whimper.

“Go on then.” He says and you can feel him smirk against your skin.

You grind your hips into his and he lets out a small groan, making it your turn to smirk. “Okay then.” You shrug and unlatch your legs from his body, feeling your sock covered feet touch the wooden floor. You take Calum’s hands off your ass, and give him a wink.

“Such a fucking tease.” He mumbles.

“Well, my job here is done, meet you by the car.” You pat his shoulder and walk away.

You jog down the stairs and into the kitchen, taking the saucepan off the ring and put it on the one that wasn’t on, so much for looking forward to dinner. You make sure everything is locked and closed before you go to the front door and put on your ankle boots.

“Not done with you.” You hear Calum say as he comes down the stairs, his hand instantly connecting with your ass.

“What is it with you and your obsession with my ass?” You question once you are stood up straight.

“It’s just nice and perky, it also keeps my hand warm.” He winks.

“If you touch my ass one more time, I will make fucking sure you won’t be able to touch anything but your motherfucking coffin.” You threat and with each word you said, he backed away. “Love you.” You smile with a sickly sweet voice.

You throw Calum the car keys and he swiftly catches them, following you out of the house.

“You ready?” Calum asks as he starts to back out of the driveway, placing his hand on your thigh once you get onto the road.

“It doesn’t look like I have a choice, loverboy. Holy shit, the Sun.” You complain before reacking out to put for your jet black sunglasses, which never fail to intimidate.

“So who are we delivering to? We don’t usually do this type of work so I’m not really sure.” Calum asks whilst tracing random patterns on your jean clad legs.

“The kid that has the Range Rover. You know the one Luke and I are convinced is a son of a rich dick and has a drug problem, but uses his father’s money. I mean, what 17 year old can afford a Range Rover?” You explain.

“You could.” Calum points out with a smirk.

“Okay, what normal kid can afford a Range Rover?” You rephrase my question. “Or regularly buy a fuck ton of cocaine?” You add.

“You’ve got a point. Where does he even live? Are we going straight to his house or meeting at some private place?” He questions.

“The last time I did it was a couple months ago and it was a couple houses down from where he supposedly lives.” You answer.

You both continue to talk about all the people you’ve dealt with over the years, until you get to the headquarters building. It’s basically a fucking huge building, a few stories high, and very wide. It’s kinda like a museum, got all these rooms and hallways, just without the art work. Some people in the gang live here, it’s basically where everything is done. No one really knows about it, it’s in a very secluded place, very few who have found it made it out alive. The warehouse is just behind it and it’s safe to say it’s not as nice as the actual building. It’s literally a few rooms, heavily secured, and mainly metal.

Walking in hand in hand, you slam the door behind the both of you, alerting everyone that you’ve entered. Your boots clicking every time your heel collides with the floor. “There’s my favourite girl.” You hear people say when we walk in.

“I’m the only girl you’re in regular contact with.” You deadpan.

“Anyway, she’s my girl, so hands off.” Calum warns. “I’m gonna go out back, I’ll meet you by the car in 15.” Calum informs you and gives you a quick kiss.

“Okay, have fun.”

“Oh I will, partying and everything.” He rolls his eyes at your comment, you push him towards the direction he needs to go.

“So which one of you fuckers wants to go get me dinner?” You ask as you sit next to Luke, eyeing up the three boys you’d consider your friends and the two others who you’d only consider acquaintances. Ashton, Michael, and Luke are the people you’d consider your bestfriends, the other people in the gang you’d only consider acquaintances. Some of them are friends, but you’d never hang out with them outside of the job, you’ve experienced a lot of your teenage years with these people, some coming and going. You’ve learnt not to get too attached to people with this job, some are an exception, the boys for example, but that plays an important roll in why you’ve never gotten that close to most people in the organization.

You’re always friendly with them, it’s not like you are rude and ignore them, you’ve just never made the effort to get close to people, because this job is very dangerous.

“I’m sorry we took you away from your evening.” Luke apologises and places a hand on your knee.

“I don’t need your sympathy hand.” You tell him and he squeezes your thigh.

“Move it.” You order and he moves his hand up and down your thigh. You can’t help but laugh and throw his hand back at him, him having a small smirk on his face.

You all continue to talk and joke around before you realise you have to go. “Bye guys, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You question.

They all look at each other with a look you can’t quite read. “Yeah, of course. Have a nice night.” Ashton nods.

You give each of them a kiss on the cheek before walking out the room. “Thank God that bitch has gone.” Michael jokes, making you slowly walk back into room.
“What was that, Clifford?” You ask with a glare. Your glare is almost like your trademark, if you looked at someone for long enough, the guys are convinced you’d kill them.

“Nothing, Y/N,” he smiles nervously.

You walk towards him and grab his arm, pinning him towards the closest wall. “You may be taller than me, but it just means I can reach your balls faster.” You say.

“I could beat you at anything, any day, Y/L/N.” He smirks.

You grab his throat and push him harder into the wall, before grabbing your gun out of your jeans, and press it under his jaw, making him visibly gulp.

“I love having this advantage, I can make you do anything right now.” You laugh. “See you tomorrow, babe.” You pat his shoulder and walk out the door again, winking at the other boys on you way out.

You close the door behind you and being met with the cool May air. Looking to your right, you see Calum leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette.

“What took you so long, babe?” Calum asks as you get closer to him, smoke coming out of his mouth with every word he said.

“I had to deal with Michael,” you explain and take the cigarette from him, taking a drag yourself.

“Ohhhh,” he nods and accepts the cigarette back from you.

“Should we get going?” You ask.

“Yeah, need to get all the sleep I can get.” He says and stamps out his cigarette, before getting in the car.

“Why?” You ask.

“Uh, because sleep is good for you.” He tells you as if you’re the most stupid person.

“Okay.” You dismiss and give him a short glare.

You continue to try and subtly ask questions about what he’s doing tomorrow. He’s hiding somthing from you, you can tell, but he’s just not telling you.

“So what are the boys doing tomorrow?” You question.

“I’m not sure, I think Ashton has some old dude to deal with, apparently he didn’t pay the full price, but Johnny had to quickly deal with somone else, so he didn’t have time to sort it out.” He explains.

“Okay. Oh, that’s the dude.” You point to a person on the pavement, standing under a streetlight that keeps flickering.

“Okay, see you later.” He jokes.

“You can bet your ass you’re coming with me.” You give him a look that reads ‘idiot’.

You both get out the car, slamming the door behind you, and intimidatingly walked towards him.

“Hey, (Y/N) right?” He asks and gives you an annoying smile.

“No, we’ve gone over this before, no talking just give me the money.” You sigh.

“Who wouldn’t want to talk to Dillon?” He smirks.

“Just shut the fuck up, dildo.” You snap and take the envelope out of his hand. You peer inside and roughly check how much there is. “You’re 350 dollars short.” You declare.

This guy buys a lot of cocaine and it usually lasts him a month or so, we’re not some jackasses, who say it’s 100%, because no cocaine you get from people like you is pure.

“No, I’m not. You probably can’t count very well.” He replies and you raise your eyebrows.

“Do you want this or not?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Then pay the full price,” you tell him, ready to get your gun out.

“I’ve paid the full price, I can assure you.” He tries to convince us.

“Cal, count the money.” You pass him the envelope and you glare at the boy in the mean time.

After a minute or two Calum puts the envelope in his pocket and takes his gun out of his jeans, pointing at the cocky boy.

“You owe us 350 dollars.” Calum confirms.


“Now,” Calum demands and pulls the slide back.

Damn this boy is sexy when he’s serious.

“I don’t have 350 dollars.” He claims.

“Bullshit.” You spit and take the safety off your gun, cocking it back, ready to shoot.

“Make it 500.” Calum orders.

He pathetically glares at you two and pulls out a wad of cash. “I don’t have 350 dollars my ass.” You mumble.

“Here.” He grumbles and slaps the cash in Calum’s hand.

“Here.” Calum repeats his words and passes the dangerous substance to him.

“Nice doing business with you.” You smirk and walk back to the car, Calum walking next to you, also sporting a smirk.


Rolling over and nuzzling into your boyfriend, only to be met with cold sheets. Your eyes immediately snapping open and looking around the room, seeing nothing, no trace of him, and everything looks normal. “Cal?” You quietly call out.

No response.

You rip the duvet off of your body, which you only have Calum’s shirt and a pair of panties on. Due to the lack of clothing, you’re met with a chilling breeze. You reach into your bedside table and grabbing the cold, jet black gun.

Ejecting the magazine and find it’s fully loaded, you don’t usually use this gun, it’s more your emergency weapon. You slowly walk towards the door, which is slightly open, usually the door is closed. Maybe Calum has just gotten up early or somthing but better safe than sorry.

You safely hold the gun by your shoulder, pointing up towards the ceiling, and you pull the door open with your foot, quickly pointing your gun in front of you. Nothing, not even a sound.

Cautiously searching the rest of the house but find in nothing, not even a hint of Calum or an intruder.

“Calum?” You call out one final time before going into your room again. Something catching your eye that you didn’t see before, a note on his bedside table. Walking closer and picking up the note.

I love you so much, don’t ever forget that

-Cal xx

“You fucker.” You say to yourself and scrunch the note into a ball, before throwing it to the floor.

You walk over to Calum’s wardrobe, noticing a load of shirts are missing. “You don’t fucking want to, Hood.” You shake your head.

Pulling your phone out of the charger and quickly pulling Calum’s contact up. Pressing the mini phone icon, and listen to it ring, sighing when he doesn’t pick up, so you decide to leave a quick voicemail.

“Hey, Cal, it’s your girlfriend, I missed you when you weren’t still in bed this morning. Call me back, don’t ever forget that.” You spit the last part.

A method you’ve grown a custom to over the years is to start out sweet, but be a firm. Then when you next call him, you cut the act and dive straight in.

Quickly getting dressed and walking out the door, skipping breakfast. All of the cars are still here, but he could of gotten a ride from anyone. You get into a car and speed over to the headquarters.

He was acting all funny yesterday, like he was preparing for something. He never usually leaves a note like that if he’s up and out before you. Usually it would be an explanation on what he’s doing, and an ‘I love you’ not ‘don’t ever forget that’. You made a promise to tell each other what you are ordered to do, you may be vague on what you do, but you tell him.

“Where is he?” You ask as you storm into the building.

“Who?” Will asks, he seems to be the bravest out of the 10+ people whom is in the hallway, willing to take on your storm. Will is also part of the gang, he usually does the supplying.

“You know who.” You spit.

“No, I don’t.” He shakes his head and you give him a warning glare.

“Calum, or any of the others.” You state and make your way up to Marcus’ office.

“Ah, wasn’t expecting you so early.” He quickly says and stuffs somthing into a draw, when you harshly open the door.

“Where’s Calum?” You question.

“I’m not sure, I thought he was at home, with you, (Y/N).” He answers and swings his chair round a little.

“Okay, where is Ashton, Luke, and Michael?” You ask, taking a seat on the leather chair opposite his desk.

“Ashton is down by one of the stripclubs, Michael should be out getting some uh ammo, and Luke is just cruising around.” He explains.

“Why would Michael be out getting ammo? We already have thousands of rounds. That’s never been a problem for us. Ashton never goes out later than 10, it’s 9 right now, plus if he ever goes to one of the clubs it’ll be at the evening so it looks normal. Is it even possible for Luke to be up at this point to just ‘cruise around’?” You set him straight. “In the mean time, I’ll try and figure out what is going on, until someone tells me.” You glare at him and stand up, walking over to the door. Slamming the door shut behind you and blocking out his protests.

“Hey, Layton, where’s Johnny?” You ask as you pass down the rather extravagant staircase, a few hallways away from Marcus’ office.

“Uh, he is in the lounge area, I think.” He answers.

“Thanks.” You mumble and speed down the steps, walking all the way down and then taking the elevator to the bottom floor.

“Woah, who woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning?” A voice asks from behind.

“Not in the mood for it today, Jeff.” You tell him and give him a small glare over your shoulder. Jeff and you have a teasing relationship, which just consists of insults thrown from both teams, they are serious, but you don’t hate each other, it’s just a little fun.

“Missing your little Calum?” He cooes and by his words, you instantly pull your gun out and push him against a wall.

“What do you know?” You ask and press the gun harder into his throat.

“Nothing, I’m sorry, I was just joking around.” He apologises.

“Go fuck yourself, Jeff.” You mumble and walk away, leaving him rubbing his neck and muttering something along the lines of “crazy bitch.”

You walk down the long hallway until you reach the room at the end. “Uh, Johnny, can I talk to you for a minute?” You request and he seems taken back but gets up and follows you out to the hallway.

“What’s up?” He asks and rubs his hands together.

“Did you deliver some drugs to an old man yesterday, but he didn’t pay full price?” You ask.

“I didn’t yesterday but I did a couple days ago, but Ashton sorted him out a few hours later for me. Why?”

“Okay, thanks. Do you happen to know where all the guys are?”

“Uh, no, the last time I saw them was last night, well I saw Calum out back, I think you were here too though. Of course I saw Luke, Ashton, and Michael last night, they were just hanging around, talking to everyone. I may of seen them really early this morning, they were by Marcus’ office, but I was really tired so I can’t quite remember.” He explains.

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter, “Okay thanks, Johnny, see you around.”

“Any time.” He nods and goes back into the room he was just in.

With that you head out of the door, and into your car. Pissed would be an understatement.

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you attempt to call again, not really expecting him to answer, but someone has to stay loyal and tell them what they’re doing.

Of course, it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, you better tell me what the fuck is going on or you’ll be a dead man. I will not hesitate to put you in the fucking ground, Hood. You could’ve at least given me a better note with more information. What’s so important that you have to hide from me and leave a note saying you love me? You say you love me, but you don’t even give me any information, you could be in any deadly situation right now, but what a shame I don’t know where you are so I can’t bury your pathetic body. Motherfucker.”

Throwing your phone onto the passenger seat and finally being able to move, as you were at a traffic light.

If he doesn’t come home tonight, you are gonna kill him yourself.


“They told me not to tell her anything, at all, not even a hint. They also told all of us to look out for her, he didn’t give me a reason why, but he was really serious about that subject, they also said to sorta stay away from her because she could threaten somone who knows even a tiny bit about this, and with that she could figure out a lot, she’s really smart, so watch out. He said they are a mile or two away from their territory. Apparently it’s all going well so far, but they haven’t gotten to the really hard part yet. Matt has something against her but nobody knows what, not even Calum. So whatever happens, keep your mouth shut if
(Y/N)’s in the building or even in the fucking premise of the building.”

You were walking through the many hallways of the headquarters, when you heard some people talking in hushed tones. So doing what any nosy person would do, you listened, not expecting it to be the situation you’ve been fuming about.

It’s been a few days, nothing from Calum, Michael, Luke, or Ashton. You hadn’t sent any more voicemails, just to give him (or they because Calum probably let the other boys listen to them too) the illusion that you’ve given up or you are just waiting for him to come home.

You’ve kinda been on the down low for a couple days, just either planning out what you are gonna do about this all, who to question/threaten, and just trying to figure out what they are doing.

When you hear the name Matt, you immediately smirk but tense up at the same time. The boys have nothing to do with him, that’s your business, and they need to stay out of it. At the same time, you want to know what they’re doing with him, they’ve never had any experiences with him, that you know of, of course. There’s only a few people that know about him, you, Marcus, and a couple people who sorta helped out a bit, but they aren’t really relevant to him. Of course the whole gang knows about him and his gang, but they don’t know what went down and who’s involved.

“Ashton said they’re going out to their infamous club tonight, just to check it all out, and possibly get at least a look at them or establish some kind of contact/agreement with them. Michael heard that one of them works at the actual bar, so it could be easy to talk to at least one of them.” The voice feeds me indirect information.

“(Y/N) should be coming, in the next hour or so, Marcus called her in or somthing, so just be aware. You wanna go play some pool?”

With that question, you quickly pull your phone out and take about 8 steps back, to make it seem as if you didn’t just hear the missing part to your puzzle.

“Oh, hey, (Y/N),” the voice belongs to Freddy, and he waves as you walk past, Mason following behind him.

You give him a look that is a mix between ‘don’t you asshole’ and ‘you’re not worth my time’. Continuing your walk until you get to a lounge that is empty. There’s about 7 'lounges’ in this building, they’re kind of like a living room, and people just come to chill in them. They all have a couple of couches, usually a television, a game of some sort, either pool, darts, poker table, or some other entertainment of that sort.

Slipping in and closing the door behind you, you sit on one of the couches and place your phone on the coffee table. You need to think of a plan or at least add on to it.

Are you gonna join them? Tonight or in a couple of days? Is this gonna stir some shit up?

All these questions swirl round your head.

You play with your gun whilst you think it all out, taking the safety on and off, effecting the magazine and seeing how far away you can catch it.

After an hour and a half, you’ve figured it out, every detail, back up plans, how you’ll get there, everything down to what you are gonna pack and where you’re gonna stay.

You’ve decided to go tonight, well soon, if it’s true what Freddy said, they should be at Matt’s infamous club. You’ve been there a couple times, for business purposes. Nothing special, just your regular club, the drinks are a bit more expensive, is probably the only difference between that and one a mile or two away.

You’re not gonna go straight to Calum or any of the boys, only an idiot would do that. Instead, you are just go in to spy on them, see what they are up to. It’s not very wise to just go blundering up to them, you could be interrupting all sorts, so it’s best to just observe for a while. You might even go back home if you find out they’re not doing anything significant, you just needs this information so you can sleep well at night and not constantly be on edge. Most importantly, so you don’t have to receive the call that your boyfriend and best friends have died.

You were supposed to meet up with Marcus, but to hell with that. If you want to get to your destination at a reasonable time. It takes about 45 minutes to an hour to get to their territory from here, you also have to pack a few things.

Opening up the front door to the house you share with Calum, and quickly dash up the stairs and start getting prepared for the whole 'adventure’.

After half an hour, you’re all packed, clothes for specific occasions, guns, ammunition, knives, and some other bits and pieces. Swinging the duffel bag onto your shoulder and gracefully jogging down the stairs, setting down the bag by the door. You head into the kitchen, to make some food for the journey and grab a couple bottles of water. Walking towards the fridge when suddenly you feel some arms harshly wrap around your neck and waist.

Almost like a reflex you take the heel of your ankle boots and kick the persons shin, then drag the other one down his other shin, by the noises they make, you guess it’s a man. Quickly elbowing his stomach because he seemed to of stupidly forgotten to add your arms into his grasp. This makes him bend over and lose his arm around your neck.

You grab the closest object, which happens to be a spatula. Great. You stab his arm with the blunt as fuck spatula, which actually makes him hiss. You try to pry his arm off, because he’s busy still clutching his stomach, but you can’t get enough leverage.

Throwing the spatula across the room, which startled him a bit and he starts to drag you back. Quickly grasping at the knife block as you get dragged past it and reach for the carving knife. Sliding the knife up his bare arm, because you can’t stab him just get, because there’s a chance you’ll stab yourself too.

“You, bitch!” He yells and let’s go of you and you turn around, to see his eyes widening at the sight of his arm.

“Who even are you?” You question, not even waiting for an answer you go straight at him with the knife. Puncturing his chest and leaving the knife in there, you almost have to stifle a laugh at how stupid he looks.

Going into one of the draws and grabbing the gun from the back. Calum insisted on putting a gun in every single room, literally. Although right now you are greatful for it, because you don’t have your gun on you right now, you can’t exactly say you were expecting a visitor.

Taking the safety off and cocking it back, before shooting the intruder right in the middle of his forehead and he instantly becomes limp and crashes to the floor. A puddle of blood leaking from him and onto your freashly cleaned tiles.

Better be safe than sorry, so you check all around the house. Finding nothing different, also locking everything on the way.

“Give me a fucking break.” You cry out when you see another man in your house.

As he turns around you shoot him straight in the heart, he instantly clutches his chest and falls to his knees, then face planting the ground in a big thud.

You roll your eyes and walk into the kitchen again, stepping over the dead body, and fetching your sandwhich and water, also putting the gun back where you found it.

You pack your bag into the car, before sending a quick text to Jeff, asking him to clear up the bodies and informing him where the spare key is, although he could probably easily pick the lock if he wanted to.


It’s been a couple hours, right now you’re getting dressed up to go to the club. Not for fun, not at all, strictly work, well more to check up on your favourite people. You need to see what’s actually going on, you hate being left out of the loop, it’s one of the most frustrating things, especially in this industry, it makes you feel like a child.

You’re not usually one to wear revealing clothes, depending on the type of mission and what people you’re dealing with. You’d very rarely have to wear somthing low cut. You wear tight as fuck jeans most days, and when you wear a skirt, you don’t shy away from it being short, it’s just your torso that you cover up usually.

So, with that, wearing a really tight dress is somthing you’re not really familiar with. You very rarely have to do this type of work and blend in, so it’s somthing exciting to do, you can’t fault that. You’re wearing a skin tight, black dress, which complements your body type perfectly, it leaves some parts to imagination, it ends a little bit above mid-thigh, has some lacy parts on the waist and the chest area.

Your make up is quite heavy, but bearable, brown smokey eye, winged eyeliner that could kill a man, dark red lipstick, all in all you look hot and intimidating.

You would’ve just gone into the club in your usual attire, but you can’t by any circumstance get caught by either the boys or the opposing gang, or your whole cover will be blown. If you make eye contact with the other gang, it will probably be okay, you’ll be able to scrape by, but with the boys that’s a whole different story. If they even catch a glimpse of your face, your cover will be blown into shreds. With Calum, if his eyes scan the crowd and they quickly skim over you, he’ll recognise your body in a heartbeat.

There’s a few places you can go to sit back and observe. If they are sitting/standing in one corner, you could settle down by the corner to their left or right, depends which corner they’re in, not diagonal though, there’s a high chance you’ll make eye contact with one of them that way. It all really depends on where they are and who exactly is there.

Paying the driver then stepping out of the car, being surrounded by quite a few people who are hanging around outside. It’s around 11 the whole party scene is bursting with life, a few people already look so drunk and a few smokers have come outside to smoke and get some fresh air. Ironic really. You are allowed to smoke in there, the amount of joints people have smoked in there is almost alarming.

Walking up to the entrance and stopping by the bouncers, because you know they’ll want to see your ID. Obviously you use a fake one for these type of jobs, you’re not stupid.

“ID, Pretty Lady.” The burly dude with a big beard requests.

“Of course.” You play along with a smirk. You hold it out to him with your two fingers and he accepts it and reads all the information.

“Have fun.” He sends you one last lustful look and you walk in, almost feeling his eyes rake over your body, making you have the urge to shudder. I wonder if he knows he just let someone in with a gun up their dress, is in a gang, let alone a very high up the chain organisation.

Keeping your head down and head straight to the bar, trying to blend in. Your eyes quickly scan the intoxicated crowd, not recognising anybody. Yet.

Ordering your drink of choice, flirting with the bartender to hurry up the process, you don’t want to stay in plain sight for a too long. You thank and pay the bartender quickly before scoping out a place to settle at. Your eyes pick out a place, quite a secluded spot, dimly lit with colourful lights, a seating area that runs along all the walls. It looks like a place where people get stoned, but do it right. There are people who get high right and people that don’t get high right. Obviously they get what they are craving, but they just don’t do it right, where you’re aiming to sit, is where the 'cool people’ get high. That make sense?

“Hey,” you greet and sit down at the end, you’ve still got a good view of the whole club.

“Hello.” Some random people reply, you can see their figures through the thin but growing cloud of smoke.

Not intending to take this conversation further, you try and seek out specific people, which is kinda hard considering it’s dark in here. Then as if the light gods listened to you, the forever moving lights shine on a familiar head of green hair, which just so happens to be one of your best friends. Next to him is none other than Ashton Irwin, who is actually facing you. With that information blaring in your head, you quickly turn away from the bar and face the group of stoners. Not all of them are wrecking their bodies with different types of drugs, some are just chilling out with a drink in their hand.

Taking a sip of your drink and slowly facing the bar again, they pay for their drinks, spotting a specific drink that belongs to Calum, it’s usually the drink of choice he goes for when you’re out. Your eyes follow their backs and watch where they head to.

A wave of comfort washes over you as you see the one person that you’ve always been seen as home. In fact all four of them you consider home, but Calum is somthing else.

Although that comfort doesn’t last too long when you remember why you’re here in the first place. Your soft eyes switch to a death glare in seconds and you lean back, watching it all unfold.

Constantly looking around the densely packed room, people with sweaty, drunk, high, bodies. Not finding anyone who you recognise, besides the boys of course. Looking up at the ceiling, noticing there’s a mezzanine floor running along the whole ceiling edges. That must be where the important people are.

Carefully scanning the whole floor, until you spot a man that makes your skin crawl. Toby Dorsey, almost the leader of said gang, he is so far up Matt’s ass, just so he can be the leader when Matt retires.

He’s leaning against the railing, overlooking everybody, feeling as if he owns them. In a way he kinda does, he could get them to do whatever he wants with the threaten of a gun. You could too, Calum, Ashton, Luke, Michael could as well, you can bet your life that there are other deadly people up there with guns. A lot of guns.

Having the urge to punch somone repertitvly just thinking of them. You’ve got a history with them, not a good one for both of you. Marcus designated a special task for you to accomplish, it was your second or third big job to do. You completed it, but you ended up getting stabbed in the leg, then you couldn’t do anything for a couple of months, not just because of your injury but because Marcus wouldn’t let you.

You get fed up of just watching, you are craving some action, new information, anything but just watching gets boring. It may not be wise but you really aren’t in your usual attire so it might be quite hard to recognise you. Leaving the people you really bonded with and talked to so much.

Keeping your head down as you walk towards the people that let you know everything. Sitting down in the semi circle next to them, that has a few people but they all seem like strangers to each other. Obviously you’re not an idiot, they can’t see you, there’s a fence type wall that goes all the way to the ceiling, to give you some privacy and for decoration.

“So have you heard from, Y/N, recently?” The voice of Ashton catches your attension.

“Uh no nothing actually, nothing from anyone at the headquarters either. I’m kinda worried…” Calum strains off.

“Why don’t you look at the security footage.” Michael suggests and your eyes widen, have they really been watching you this whole time? Does that mean they saw you walk out the door?

“Good idea.” Calum says and what you imagine is that someone takes their phone out. For a while they stay quiet before Calum speaks up, “oh shit, look away.” He laughs.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You can hear the smirk in Ashton’s voice.

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen my girlfriend like that before.” Calum tells them.

“Why is she even walking around without a top on? Does she usually do that?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, but she usually doesn’t wear a bra.” He snickers. “Kidding, she’d kill me if she could hear me right now. She claims she can enjoy breakfast more without a t-shirt, I’m half convinced she just forgets to get fully dressed.”

That’s where he is wrong, you’re tempted to kill him right now, but that wouldn’t do anyone any good. Plus, who does he think he is talking to the guys about your morning routine?

“Can we skip talking about my girlfriend’s habits and fast forward?” Calum asks in a groan.

“Well, at least she’s fully dressed now.” Michael speaks up after a while and you hear him getting hit.

“Just shut up.” Luke says and they go silent again.

“Oooh, okay, she must be heading to the headquarters, because Marcus told us that he called her in.” Ashton points

Oh yeah, that was supposed to happen.

“Fast forward, she’ll probably stay there for a while.” Michael tells them.

“Holy shit, is that a dude walking in?” Luke exclaims after a while.

“Oh my God, yeah.” Ashton confirms.

“Another one is walking in.” Calum adds.

“Did Y/N not lock the door or somthing?” Michael asks.

Of course you fucking did.

“She’s back, oh shit, she looks mad as fuck.” Luke stares.

You kinda were, you were - still are- sick of everyone knowing what’s going on, when the person who is closest to them out of everyone there knows nothing.

“She could be mad, sad, happy, any emotion, I don’t care, what I do care about is the two men inside that fucking house, which by the looks of it, she is oblivious to it.” Calum says.

No, you invited them over for lunch.

“She’s got a bag now,” Ashton points out.

“Did Marcus summon Y/N to do anything?” Luke asks.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Calum answers.

“Oh my God, he’s coming up to her.” Michael nervously says.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Calum cries out, you’re guessing they’ve gotten to the part where he grabs you.

“Really? A fucking spatula?” Michael questions.

“Ah, fuck.” They all cringe when you drag the knife across the man’s skin.

“There’s the Y/N I know.” Ashton cheers.

“It’s like a really gory horror film.” Luke winces as he continues to watch him fall to the ground.

“There’s still another man in the house.” Calum speaks up.

“Well, she’s going round the house, she’s bound to find him at some point. Switch to another camera.” Michael tells them.

“Thank fuck.” They all sigh in relief.

“She just steps over the dead body.” Ashton laughs.

“Who’s gonna clear up the bodies? We all know Y/N doesn’t like dealing with that side of the industry.” Calum questions.

“I don’t know she’ll probably get someone from headquarters to do it.” Luke says.

“Fast forward through it.” Ashton says. “Ah, Jeff.”

“So like, what did Y/N do?”

It’s been around an hour or so and you’re still sitting in the same spot, listening to their conversation. At times you feel bad, but you remember that they didn’t tell you anything, so it’s okay. The amount of times you’ve wanted to add somthing to the conversation, or wanted to laugh at what somone said, is painful.

You can’t exactly say you’ve heard anything new, they’ve just been messing around, you’re not really sure how they get anything done, but you’re the same when you’re with them.

“Marcus said it happened quite a few years ago now, we probably shouldn’t talk about this here.” Michael replies.

“We’ll shoot or punch anyone that’s listening.” Ashton shrugs and you have to stifle a laugh.

“What Y/N did, was it good or bad?” Luke asks.

“Depends what way you look at it. For us it was great, for them, not so much. They lost some very important people, but now we, more specifically she, is in a bad situation, now.” Michael states.

What’s going on? What do they want from you now, after all these years.

“We need to keep all eyes on her and make sure she is safe, at least for the time being.” Calum sighs.

They’re doing a great job at that.

“Have you seen anyone from the opposing gang?” Luke asks.

“No, unfortunately, we just need to talk to them for two to three minutes, that’s all.” Ashton says in frustration.


“Does anyone know where the actual base is?” Calum questions.




With that they all sigh.

“But like, what do they a want from her and what are they gonna do to her.” Michael questions.

“Anything, money, drugs, lewd acts, want her to join their organisation, or even kill her.” Calum shrugs.

“What are the chances that she’ll get caught or taken hostage by them or somthing?” Michael asks.

“It’s Y/N, nothing will go down without a fight, so we’ve got a little bit of time before shit hits the fan.” Luke replies.

“Guys, look to your right a bit, that guy has been staring at us the whole time we’ve been here. Subtly, guys.” Ashton points out and in instinct, you turn your head to see a slim man, a lady by his side, who’s probably as thick as a brick, glaring daggers at both you and the boys.

“What’s his fucking problem?” Calum questions in annoyance.

“He looks like someone from the gang.” Luke mumbles.

“Do we go talk to him or…?” Michael trails off.

“Wait until we see somone else.” Ashton advises.

“Oh shit, who’s that?” Calum questions.

As he says that, you begin to say your first sentence to them “hey, what do you say we go get a drink together?” You smirk at him, completely ignoring the girl clinging onto his arm.


“He’s got a girlfriend.” She cuts him off, her 30 metre long finger nails digging into his arm.

“Oh yeah, who?” You ask and look around.

“Me.” She glares at you.

“How about we leave this grade-A bitch and get a drink? You’d look cuter holding my hand anyway.” You trail your finger up his chest.

“I knew I had a good grade in somthing.” She muses and you laugh.

“The only A you get is your bra size.” You tell her then turn to her so called boyfriend.

“Let’s go.” He winks and wraps an arm around your waist.

You look at the ground so your hair covers your face, because you know the boys are watching this all. You both order a drink and sit at the bar.

“So, what’s your name?” He questions and you quickly think of a name.

“Samanther, but you can call me Sam or Sammy. How about you?”

“I’m Christian.” He nods but the name doesn’t ring any bells, then again, you’ve never seen the man in your life.

“Nice, you from around here?” You ask.

“Yeah, lived here basically all my life. You?”

“I’m visiting my uncle, he actually owns this place, Matt Craig.” You tell him.

“Oh really? I’ve met him quite a few times, quite close actually.” He nods and takes a sip of his drink. “What does he do?”

“I’m not really sure, I think he owns other clubs and stuff, I don’t see or talk to him much, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months. Sad really.” You sigh

So sad.

“I could probably get him to see a pretty girl like you a lot more.” He winks and you have to hold back the urge to gag.

“Aw, so kind.” You bat your eyelashes at him and pretend to be all flustered. “Do you know where Matt is right now?”

“He’s either somewhere in here, most likely in there or up there,” he points to a door on the other side of the room and up on the mezzanine floor. “How long are you here for?” He questions and places his hand on your knee.

“A couple more days, depends on how busy Matt is.” You say and lean into his touch.

“What if he’s busy?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll head home because I’m bored, but if I have someone and somthing to do with them, that’d be my last thought.” You smirk.

“Really?” He smirks back and trails his hand up your thigh.

“Yeah,” you nod and bite your lip.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks and you have to quickly remove his hand from your thigh because firstly, it was making you uncomfortable but you can’t show that to him, and secondly, he would’ve felt your gun, so you move it to your hip/waist.

“I’m not really sure, Matt will be expecting me though.” You explain. “In fact, I should be getting to him right now. Could you do me a favour?”

“What is it?” He rubs up your waist.

“You know the table that I came from, the one next to me, the one with the guy who has green hair? If you could give them a note, I’ll write it out for you, don’t give them a name or anything, just simply drop the note onto their table, then come back to me.” You explain.  

You came prepared, so you pull a sticky note and a pen out of your bra, and begin writing.

Matt is in this building right now, be careful. You don’t belong here, go back, you’re not welcome here. If you really have to be here, their base is around a mile from here, just follow the road outside here for a while, then turn right when you reach a huge library, follow that for a while then it should be there, you can’t miss it. They’ve got a room full of guns, explosives, knives, and deadly things, so watch out for that, if you need some new weapons, it should be round the back somewhere, it’s hard to miss. Please don’t fuck too much up

Folding the note up and putting the pen back, before passing Christian the note. You obviously changed the handwriting so they don’t recognise it.

“Make sure to come back okay.” You wink and he gives you a smile, setting out on his difficult task.

You watch from the corner of your eye, he passes through the tons of people until he finally reaches their table. Politely dropping the sticky note onto the table, ignoring their confused and questioning looks and walks back to you.

“Done.” He grins and places his hand on your ribcage.

“Thank you, now why don’t I give you a, little reward.” You smirk and play with the hem of his shirt.

“Ohh, I like where this is going.” He smiles.

“Follow me.” You lure him in and grasp his cold hands.

He follows you as if he was duckling and you were the mother duck. You can feel his eyes on your body, looking at you in the most disgusting way. Only one person can do that to you.

Dragging him to where you were previously, although all the stoners have gone, there’s just one person sitting there.

“Hey, could you move to a different place for a while?” You request.

“Uh, sure.” The dude furrows his eyebrows but gets up and stumbles off somewhere else.

“So what have you got in store for me? I did do a very hard job.” He rubs his hands together as if you were a piece of meat.

“Yeah, so hard.” You wiggle your eyebrow.

“Al-,” he gets cut off by you punching him in the face. “What the fuck was that for?” He yells and touches his jaw.

You ignore him and punch him again, this time in the nose, wishing it breaks. He lets out a groan and cups his nose, and checks for blood, which is very much there. You grab his hair and bring his face to your knee, and that’s kinda hard to do in a tight dress. You would bring out your gun but you don’t want to kill him.

Repetitively kneeing him in the face, gripping on his hair even more when your grasp starts to falter. Pushing him back, which causes him to stumble and land on the seats, you walk towards him and punch him in stomach, making him bend over in agony, with this new position, you dig your thumb into his back muscles and have a firm grip on his shoulder that’ll no doubt leave a mark for a while.

“Who the fuck are you?” He hisses in pain.

“The names Y/N Y/L/N.” You say and his eyes widen, then they burn with fury. “Do me another favour will you and tell Matt I sent you.”

You punch him in the face a final time and ignore the stinging pain in your knuckles. “That was for treating me as if I was worth nothing and only useful for sex.” You huff. “Dirty motherfucker.” You spit and step on his foot with your highheel as you walk away.

Feeling people’s eyes on you, but you ignore them and walk towards the exit, needing to get away before anyone catches you.

“Get out.” You demand through gritted teeth at a group of teenage boys who are in a decent car.

“What the fuck, no,” the driver states.

“I didn’t want to do this, but as you left me no choice.” You sigh and pull your gun out from under your dress, pointing it at them.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down have the fucking car,” he begins to panic and they all get out of the car.

“Here,” you say and pull out a wad of cash from your bra, smacking it in one of their hands.

“Thank you?” He trails off but you are off in your own world.

Speeding off towards your hotel, which is a couple miles away from here.


It’s been a few days, and you’ve just been spying on them for a while. They haven’t seen you, but they’ve most probably heard you. You tripped at one point, but saved yourself by putting your hands out, but you actually landed on a piece of glass. That made you fall over anyway and make a hole in your jeans, you had to quickly scoot into an ally way, so they couldn’t see you whilst you took the shard of glass out of your palm. That ended in you leaving a trail of blood behind you.

You haven’t really found out anything new, you’ve just secretly joined their mission. You overheard them talking about sending somone over to Calum and your’s house, but you’re not sure if they went through with it. You transferred hotels, you moved to their hotel so you can keep track on where they are and where they go. You haven’t followed them every single time they’ve gone out, mainly because they haven’t been very productive, so why would they all of a sudden productive?

Whilst they were out, you broke into their room. Not finding anything, just a load or weapons laid out on the bed, clothes scattered about on the floor, and open laptops. You managed to disconnect some cameras, only a few of them, you left some up, only so it doesn’t look too suspicious. You also got the chance to delete all the footage that’s been recorded, watching it first, obviously fast forwarding it, because you don’t have 48 hours worth of footage to watch to spare. They probably thought that was a little suspicious, but they haven’t done anything about it.

“Had any more of Y/N’s scary ass voicemails?” Ashton asks.

They’re currently walking along some random street, with you trailing a couple metres behind, your head tilted down pretending you’re on your phone. Which technically you are, but you’re not paying attension to it. It’s dark and raining outside, so you really don’t know what they’re doing.

“No, I haven’t heard anything from her or any updates from anyone about her.” Calum shrugs.

“Do you think it’s possible that she went to a hotel or something to stay at for a while? You know, because of the people that came in or somthing.” Luke questions.

“That’s a good point.” Michael nods.

“It’s Y/N we’re talking about, she doesn’t get scared about anything, besides spiders and bugs.” Calum laughs.

“Maybe that’s what she wants you to think, but in reality she needs you to be her knight in shining armour.” Michael says with a slight joking tone.

“I’ve only ever been her 'knight in shining armour’ a few times. Regularly outside of the job, but she’s a boss ass bitch when she’s working, and she doesn’t need anyone but herself.” Calum chuckles.

“How do you find somone who’s not afraid of what you do?” Ashton whines.

“It was easy for me, she was already in the business when I met her.” Calum smugly states. “We probably would’ve died that day if she wasn’t there.”

“What were we thinking taking on a dude that high up on the food chain?” Luke shakes his head.

“We can’t say we exactly knew who he was, he kinda came on to us.” Michael shrugs.

“Despite the situation, we would’ve probably died if she didn’t kill him.” Ashton tells them.

“I was traumatized for a while on how she did it.” Calum shudders.

You’re guessing they are talking about the day you met them. They were getting jumped by this man named Dean, he was very angry that day, so he just took the closest thing to him, which happened to be the boys and tried to take his anger out on them. They got some good shots on Dean, but that just riled him up even more. You came round the corner and saw all this, thinking nothing of it because you were so used it, but then you saw who it was beating up the boys. You were gonna just leave it, that was until you saw him pull his gun out. With that sight, you brought yours out and shot him in the leg, and that caught them all of guard. You ran towards them all and started punching Dean until he couldn’t stand up anymore, then you stuck your thumbs in his eyes whilst dgging your nails into the side of his head. That probably wasn’t necessary, but you had so much anger in your system that you didn’t care. Then you proceeded to stab him repetitively in the torso.

When you finally got up, you’d forgotten all about the boys in front of you. They had eyes as wide as saucers and looked at you in fear. “Uh, sorry you had to uhm, see that.” You muttered and began to walk away.

“Hey, wait up!” Calum called after you and you turned around, Calum being a little closer than you thought.

“What?” You asked and he held onto the top of your elbow, the other hand holding your neck/shoulder.  

“I just wanted to s-say thank you.” He whispered as he looked into your eyes.

“That fucker deserved it.” You mumbled . “I’ll see you around.” You winked and began to walk away from him, not knowing that they were going to join the gang a couple months later.

That wasn’t just your first encounter, but the beggining of somthing truly beautiful.

“Still to this day, we don’t know what she or they had against eachother.” Ashton muses.

“Woah, guys, hold on.” Michael stops them and holds his arms out in front of them.

“Is that who I think it is?” Calum question in a whisper.

“No, it can’t be.” Luke shakes his head.

“I think it is.” Ashton sighs.

You have a look yourself and see a group from Matt’s gang, they’re powerful, and very skilled.

“Do you want to confront them?” Luke asks then all.

“We have to, really. I can’t leave Y/N alone any longer, it’s not fair on her.” Calum says and you have to suppress the urge of going up to him and giving a huge hug full of love and comfort. You’ve missed his hugs, kisses, and just his touch. You may be mad as fuck at him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him.

“We need to be more prepared with weapons, right now we’ve all only got just a hand gun on us.” Ashton states.

“Okay, uh, two of you go back to the hotel and me and someone else will stay here.” Michael plans out.

“Me and Luke will go back, because we can run faster than you both.” Calum informs.

“Okay, hurry up.” Michael nods.

Luke and Calum turn around, but before they sprint off, they both give you a weird look, especially Luke. You continue to look down, hoping your hair will shield your identity, which it seems to do because they walk right past you and they run off, leaving you with Ashton and Michael.

Swiftly walking past them and into an allyway, hoping it doesn’t seem too suspicious. It shouldn’t because this leads to a block of flats, they may belong to drug addicts but that doesn’t matter right now. You can’t hear them, you can only see them, which you guess is okay for the time being.

The hotel really isn’t that far away, just down the street, then turn left, follow that for a couple kilometres and then you’re there, so it shouldn’t take too long.

After a while, Luke and Calum come back, panting and a tiny bit sweaty. They’ve got about four duffel bags full of weapons. One full up ammo, pistols, different tyles of rifles but mostly assault rifles, and the final bag filled with explosives, knifes, smoke bombs, and little gadgets/knick knacks.

You watch as they talk, probably making up a plan, whilst you try to think what they could possibly want to do with them. As far as you know, they’ve never had any relations to Matt, besides Dean, but that was just a hit and run.

They begin to walk towards them, looking intimidating as fuck, having a cocky little smirk plastered on their faces, and no doubt about it, Calum looks hot. Are they gonna just bring the guns out and shoot them, or at least negotiate about whatever they are here for?

Matt’s little puppies all begin to turn round, one by one, looking a little worried. Michael begins to talk to them, by the looks of it, in a calm way, but you could be wrong. They seem to reply with a mirrored smirk.

Damn all these gangmembers and their smirks, they seem to think they can do anything with that cocky persona.

As time goes on, they all seem to get worked up, which can’t ever be good, although angry Calum is such a turn on.

“Why the fuck do you want her?” You hear either Calum or Ashton yell, in so much rage.

All of a sudden the boys look at each other with a nod, then they all in sync punch four of them in th face. If this carries on - which is a very high chance - it’s gonna be a 6 against four. Matt’s organization is more into guns than muscle power. Sure, they can throw some good punches, but they’d rather use their guns, that explains how they got so far up the chain so fast. At first they used to think with their fists, now they just think with weapons. In this business, it’s kinda acceptable, but it’s frowned upon and classed as cheating in a way. It’s got them far so it clearly works.

Michael and Luke punch the two others, whilst Calum and Ashton deal with the four who have already been punched. You see one of them press a button of some sort, and you take a wild guess and say they’re calling for back up.

Ashton pulls out his gun and shoot the guy in the head, and get goes down like a sack of potatoes, in a sick twisted way, you find it funny. Nothing can really be sick and twisted in this business, everyone is always killing eachother in some of the most gruesome ways or without any heart. If you did have a heart, you wouldn’t get anywhere, just crying in your bedroom about what you saw.

Luke punches a guy in the jaw and knocks him out, and he joins his friend on the wet ground, that is collecting more and more puddles. It’s not coming down so hard that you’re gonna get drenched, but it’s not just spitting by any means.

Michael grabs this guy’s head and smashes his face against their car, guaranteed to of broken his nose and lost a couple teeth. He does this a couple more times and then throws him to the wet concrete.

Just as Calum shoots two guys in the head with one bullet, around 10 more show up in a two cars.

Luke quickly shoots the sixth guy in the chest and he crawls off towards the pavement and takes shelter, whilst clutching his chest, in pure agony.

You see them all mutter a curse of some sort and talk with each other. They take in a deep breath and begin to approach the deadly people. Matt’s crew immediately start firing, causing Michael to duck. This makes him mad and he begins shooting back, missing most of them all but he hits one of them, but he doesn’t go down, just clutches his wound, which will no doubt scar if he makes it out alive. Michael reloads and is ready to go again.

All of a sudden there’s a fuck ton of gun shots and they scramble to get some cover behind a car. Gun shots fill your ears, but you’re way too used to them for the sound to affect you.

The boys resurface a minute or two later and are more confident than ever. They pull their triggers, keeping their distance, and anger flooding their system. Luke runs over to one of the duffel bags and picks up two assault rifles, then runs back and passes the other one to Michael, they start spraying at them, a couple going down, some getting injured, and some being missed all together.

Somone must have called for even more back up, because around fifteen more people arrive and you are convinced you’re gonna lose somone special to you.
How is this gonna be a fair fight?

20 vs 4

Worry is plastered on your face, along with a load of other emotions going through your body. Fear of losing your bestfriends and soulmate, angry at the people they’re going up against, and guilt because you caused this.

Suddenly you see around six to eight men come from behind them. You’d been so caught up in watching what was going on in front of them, that you forgot to check behind them.

They begin to check their guns and begin to aim.

“CALUM!” You shout and run out of the ally way, tackling Calum to the ground.

“What the f-,”

“Shut the fuck up” You spit.

Getting up, you pull your gun out of your leather jacket, you begin to fire at them. Walking closer to them, pulling the trigger at one of dudes who is clad in black, he goes down with a bullet to the chest. They begin to fire at you, and you go to pull the trigger, but only to find that the mag is empty. “Fuck.” You hiss and run towards one of the cars to take cover, whilst you reload, the people still shooting at you through the car.

Ejecting the magazine and throwing it down the street in frustration, shoving a new one in and smacking it against your palm to make sure it’s in properly. “Here, so you don’t get caught off guard.” A voice makes its way into your ears and you look up to see Luke crouching in front of you holding out a gun.

“Uh, thanks.” You nod and stand up, taking the gun from his grip, and putting it into your jeans. “Watch out.” You warn and rest your hands on top of the car, beginning to shoot at them, which catches them all off guard. You shoot one guy in the stomach and he falls to the ground, letting out a scream in pain.

By now, Luke’s long gone, he’s off shooting the people in front, which you should be joining in on after you kill the final two guys. Coming out of cover from the car, you fire until there’s one man standing.

He pulls the trigger, and the bullet goes into the right side of your stomach. “Shit.” You mutter in pain. This makes you see red and the guy that shot you just so happens to be in the middle of it. Charging right at him and punching him in the face, until his nose starts to bleed. He uses his now useless gun to hit your forehead, that will no doubt bleed.

You take your knife out and stab him with so much force under his chin, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it went into his mouth. His eyes widen and he claws at his neck, making all these spluttering sounds. Yanking your knife out and pushing him to the ground before stabbing him in the chest.

After successfully taking down 7 men, you have to deal with yourself. Luckily you’re wearing a black shirt so you can’t really see it. Patting the sensitive area, your hand comes back red, and the pain is nearly unbearable, but you have to get on before you can seek medical attension of some sort.

Walking over to the boys, every step is excruciating pain, but there’s no way you can show that, you’ll be a target otherwise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Calum hisses when you stand next to him.

“Now’s the right fucking time, Calum.” You glare at him and just start randomly firing.

He shakes his head and goes back to shooting. “There’s a load of guns in a bag over there.” Ashton informs you.

“I know.”

You and Michael begin to take on 3 people, two shots going off at two different people. Michael shoots behind you and you quickly turn around to see the third guy crash down. Giving Michael an appreciated squeeze on the shoulder you move on to different people.

After 20 minutes, the opposing gang have called for back up three times, a lot of them have died, no ones quite sure how many people are left, but there’s around 10 men standing, that could be all that’s left of the whole gang, or there’s a still a couple hundred people left. Judging by the amount of people you’ve all killed, there can’t be anymore people left. You killed Christian and you actually laughed when you shot him, which made all the boys look at you weirdly. You’ve seen Matt in one of the cars a few times, and he stares right back at you with the same hollow, dark eyes, which makes you shudder.

You’ve felt a little light headed and whoosy every now and then, but it passes after 30 seconds or so. You know it’s not very wise to be doing this whilst having a bullet wound in your stomach, but it’s not an option right now to just leave.

Matt all of a sudden gets out of the car and orders his minions to stop and they all look dumbfounded.

“Guys, stop.” You warn.

“What the hell (Y/N)?” Michael questions.

“Just follow my lead, I’ll explain this all to you when this is over.” You sigh and begin to slowly walk towards them.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Calum asks.

“Maybe, maybe not. When I run my hand through my hair, shoot all the other people, but leave Matt to me.” You explain.

They all nod and look at each other in fear.

“Ah, (Y/N)! Long time no see.” He greets with his arms out.

“Matt, so lovely to see you again.” You smirk and give each other a hug.

“You’ve got some talented boys on your side.” Matt says.

“Yeah, but they’re not important right now. What do you want?” You ask.

“I think you know what I want.” He replies.

“I think the fuck not.” You spit.

“You do.”

“Look, it happened years ago, let it go. I don’t regret it.”

“Well you should regret it, because you have no idea what could happen.” He whispers in your ear.

“You’re just bored and wanted to stir the rivalries up, and you’re jealous because we’re dominating the market.” You hiss.

“Well, that, and you killed my brother, my most important and talented man, oh and my son.” He says and caresses your jaw. Matt mainly said that to the boys, but he was facing you.

“They fucking deserved it.” You push his hands away harshly, which makes him chuckle.

“They did nothing to you.” He states.

“They did nothing to me? I had to kill your brother because he stabbed me and would’ve done a lot worse. I also had to kill Dean because he would’ve killed these guys, and it was part of my revenge because he was in with your brother. I killed your son for the sole reason that he was your son.” You inform. “So yeah, one of them wasn’t called for, by he only would’ve turned out to be a cocky, drug addict, hiding behind people because he can’t fight his own battles, like you.”

“You stole a load of my money and sold a lot of my drugs.” He adds.

“Well I did it better than you could ever. You cheated your way to the top, used your weapons, and you don’t even do anything, you just hide behind your minions because you’re a coward.” You accuse. “What do you even want from us?”

“I want you and only you.” He answers.

“Matt, this isn’t a romantic movie.” You tell him.

“I want you to join my gang.” He proposes.

“Why would I want to join a gang that barely has anyone in it anymore?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“With you, we can build up again and make a better, stronger gang than before.” He attempts to lure you in.

“If you could tell me you’re the best gangmember in this business, we would be nothing without you in our gang, please, I’m begging for you to join, I’ll think.” You ask him to feed your ego.

“Okay, you’re the best gangmember in this business, we would be nothing without you in our gang, please, I’m begging for you to join.” He repeats your words.

“I can see you clearly have nothing to offer me, you thought you could just easily take down our gang, for somthing that happened years ago, they all fucking deserved it.”

You run your hand through your hair and say: “Go get 'em boys.”

They all smirk and begin to aim at the people that are left alive, they’re only left behind because they’re cowards like Matt, so they hid behind the more talented. It’s kind of a shame that all those people died because some were really talented.
“What are you gonna do now that all your cover is gone?” You ask in a slight baby voice.

“This.” He says and is about to pounce on you but a gun shot is fired. Looking to your right you see Calum breathing heavily, his gun still aimed at Matt, and fire burning in his eyes.

“Not even in your fucking dreams.” Calum says.

You pull the slide back and press the gun to his head. Calum shot him in the shoulder, you’re not sure if that was his plan or if he meant to kill him. If Calum wanted to kill him, he would’ve easily struck success, so you conclude that, that was his plan.

“Any last words?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you all, you’ll pay for this!” He spits.

“But you’re dead.” You state.

“S-,” you shoot him right in the centre of his forehead.

“I guess we’ll never know.” You shrug, watch his body slide down the side of a car and to the left.

Sliding your gun back into your jacket, and looking at all the carnage you’ve all made. Bodies everywhere, blood everywhere, abandoned guns everywhere, and bullet holes everywhere.

“Shit.” You mutter and lean onto the bonnet of the car, clutching your stomach.

“Woah, babe, you alright?” Calum asks, rushing towards you.

You remove your hand and wince at the amount of blood, on your hand. Looking up at Calum, his eyes widen and instantly holds the small of your back.

“You got shot?” He asks for confirmation.

“No, I did it myself.” You snap.

“When did this happen?” He questions.

“When I shot the people behind you guys.” You say, although it comes out quietly because it’s so hard to talk through the pain. “Shit.” You whine and you feel yourself begin to fall.

Luckily Calum catch you easily because he had his hand on your back in the first place. He gently lays you down, him sitting down as well, and he rests your head on his lap.

“Somone get a clean rag or something.” Calum orders. “Stay with me, baby.” He cups your jaw.

Calum pulls your old band shirt up, revealing the wound and the three all cringe. “Here.” Ashton comes back, a t shirt that he’d taken off some dead body.

“It’s okay.” He soothes and runs his slender finger through your hair, whilst he gingerly presses the fabric to your stomach, putting direct pressure on the wound.

“Cal.” You whine and cover your eyes with your hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey.” He assures.

“Calum,” you moan, “I prefer saying that in bed.”

“Me too.” Calum agrees.

“Guys! This is no time to be doing this right now.” Ashton exclaims.

“We need to get her to the hospital, Cal, she can’t carry on like this.” Michael tells Calum.

“We need to get into a car or somthing, there’s no way we can get to a hospital fast enough.” Luke says.

“Ashton, go steal a car.” Calum tells him and goes back to playing with your hair in a soothing manner.

“I’m fine.” You groan.

“You’re clearly not fine, (Y/N).” He declares.

“I’ll be… fine.” You breathlessly say and attempt to get up.

“No, let me take you to a hospital to get professional medical help.” Calum pushes you back down.

“I’m okay,” you sigh and you attempt to get up again but it hurts too much. “Okay, I’m not okay.” You admit.


“I’m about to shoot somone if you don’t stop babying me.” You claim.

“I know you hate this, but that isn’t an option right now, just work with me.” Calum sighs.

“Okay, I got a car going but it’s gonna be a little cramped.” Ashton tells everyone.

“This might hurt.” Calum says.

“At least you are telling me somthing, this time.” You mutter and Calum gives you a deadpan look.

He shakes his head and begins to lift you up, bridal style. “Does it hurt?” He asks.

“No more than it did 10 seconds ago.” You roll your eyes.

You’re all in the car, Ashton’s driving, Luke’s in the passenger seat, Michael is on the left side of three seats in the back, Calum is on the right, and you are laying on them, your head on Calum’s lap and your feet on Michael’s lap.

“You’ve got blood in your belly button.” Michael breaks the silence.

“Thank you?” You trail off. “At least you’re all being honest now.”


You’ve been in the hospital for a while now, you had to have surgery to take the bullet out, treat the wound, and stitch it up. Ashton, Luke, Michael, and Calum have all been by your side through it all, which you are kinda greatful for.

You’ve been shot a few times before, nothing as major as this, just in the leg or shoulder. You’re healing up really well, should be back on your feet in a couple days.

Calum has been sitting in the same chair the whole time and holding your hand. Luke has been talking to Marcus and updating him on what has happened. Ashton wonders around the hospital, going from hallway to hallway, he’s often been sent back by nurses. Michael is having a case of cabinfever, he reliefs that by driving around, picking up some food, anything better than this cardboard shit. You on the other hand, have been confined to this damn bed for three days, having things attached to you, dealing with nurses that constantly flirt with all the boys, and being bored out of your brain.

You’ve been building a plan, with all of this time on your hands, you may as well think of a plan to break out of here… and it should begin very soon.

“Can you get me some ice cream?” You ask Calum and grab his hand.

“Sure.” He laughs. “Are you gonna be okay on your own?” He questions and runs his hand through your hair.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. How long will you be?” You question, playing with the band the hospital gave you.

“30 to 45 minutes.” He shrug.

“Okay, bye then.” You say.

Calum gives you a quick kiss before they all wave goodbye to you and walk out your room.

They’ve all gone back to the hotel, to freshen up, pack all their things up, and then they’re gonna go get some food.

You wait five minutes, just in case they forgot their wallet or somthing, before taking the IV drip out of your arm. Throwing the covers off of your body, then sitting up, ignoring the pain in your stomach and arm. Taking some clothes out of the bag you sent Ashton and Luke to get from your hotel room, which by the way, made the whole room go silent when you said where it was.

You can tell they’ve been itching to ask you all these questions, but they haven’t had the balls to ask yet.

After doing everything you needed to do, you leave your room, trying to act as natural as possible. With this job, you’ve learnt how to blend in, which can be a very useful skill to have.

Keeping your head down, until you get all the way to the car park.

“Hey, can I borrow your car for like 10 minutes, I’ll bring it back as soon as possible. I need to check on my grandma.” I beg a middle aged man.

“Uh, sure, you’ll bring it back right?” He asks.

“Yeah, of course. Here I’ll pay you.” You pull some money out of your pocket.

“Well, here are the keys.” He laughs.

“Thank you so much.” You smile and take the keys from him, before getting into the car and putting your bag down on the floor of the passanger side.

There’s no way this guy is getting his car back.

Speeding off and leaving this toy town, making your way back to your house that you share with Calum.

After getting lost multiple times, stopping once at a shop to pick up some stuff for the trip and dinner tonight, and stopping at a petrol station, you finally get home.

Parking the car on the driveway, slamming your door shut, going over to the other side to get your bags out, pushing that door closed with your foot, before walking towards the front door.

Inserting your keys into the lock, turning let and walking in, being greeted by the familiar sense of comfort. You notice the bodies have gone and you make a mental note to thank Jeff.

Quickly looking round the house for anything suspicious, because you don’t want a replay of what happened again. Finding nothing different or out of place from when you wear last here. With that safe feeling, you head down the stairs and into the kitchen, so you can make dinner.

Contemplating if any of them are smart enough to figure out your game soon enough that they’ll be home in the next few hours. There’s a possibility, so you go ahead and make enough to go round five times. The boys don’t usually come round for dinner that often, maybe once every couple of months, but if they do work out where you are, they’ll all come round, because they’re that predictable.


You’ve eaten, showered properly for the first time first in a while, and now you’re chilling in the living room, you’ve got some random tv show playing, a gun in your hand that you’re just playing with, the safety is on so you’re fine.

It’s really late - or early, depends how you look at it - 2 am to be exact, but you’re not tired in the slightest, wide awake even.

Suddenly you hear a car pull up, then the door agressivly slamming, and finally the little jingle of keys. “Hey.” You smirk, not even taking your eyes off the screen.

“You run off without telling anyone and all I get is a hey?” Calum exclaims and you finally look at him, he seems absoloutly fuming. The others seem a little ticked off, but they know what can come out of a situation like this. All hell could break loose when both of you are riled up, and they honestly get a little terrified. It’s not always wise to leave you two alone when you’re in this state.

“All I get is a note,” you stroke your imaginary beard, “sound familiar to you?” You muse.

“This is different, (Y/N).” He shakes his head.

“How? You left me alone without any clues or material to work with. If you had more than one brain cell, you would be able to figure out where I was.” You tell him.

“I thought you’d been taken hostage or somthing.” He claims.

“As if.” You mutter. “What were you even doing with Matt? That’s none of your business.” You spit.

“I believe it is my business when he tried to kidnap you.” He states.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Where were you when I had to fight off two guys, in our house?” You question. “You went in knowing nothing! I had to give you a message telling you where their fucking base was!”

“That was you?” Calum furrows his eyebrows.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” You groan and get up, making your way into the kitchen, and they all follow you. “I was the one who beat up that guy, I had to warn you fuckers some way, or you would of blundered in and got shot faster than you last in bed.”

“Shit, that’s fast.” Michael and Luke snicker.

“We all know Calum doesn’t last long in bed.” Ashton says and they all high five each other, besides Calum of course.

Calum and you both glare at them, which shuts them up immediately.

“I was even in the fucking booth next to you.” You confess.

“You shouldn’t of even been there in the first place.” Calum raises his voice.

“Well if I hadn’t, you’d all be dead.” You tell them bluntly.

“Wow, (Y/N)’s ego is here.” Calum announces.

“I fucking saved your ass, you would’ve been shot from behind, you can’t tell me I didn’t.” You reply.

“I’ll give you that, but I’d rather I get shot or one of them than you. What exactly went down between you two?”

“It was one of my first major missions to complete, Marcus sent me to steal a load of drugs from them, that was when he was a complete dick to everyone. Obviously, I got caught, ended up fighting with his brother, that scar on my leg is from when he stabbed me. I killed his most powerful member, Dean, for a couple reasons, firstly so he didn’t kill you guys, and so I could get revenge on Matt. I know it’s such a fucked up thing to do, but he only would’ve turned out life his father, a complete asshole. Anyway, he was older than me.” You explain.

Calum just shakes his head with a humourless laugh, walking up and down the room.

“Guys, go to the headquarters, I’ll meet you there.” Calum sighs.

“How long will you be?” Michael asks.

“I don’t know, probably not long.” He shrugs.

“Okay, let’s go.” You smirk and begin to walk towards the door.

“Not you.” He spits and pulls you back by your shoulders.

You both wait until they leave the house, and once the door closes it’s complete silence.

“What is your fucking problem?” Calum speaks up.

“My fucking problem? You actually have to ask?” You glare at him. “We made a promise to tell each other what we have to do. I may not tell you everything, but I still tell you roughly. You could’ve told me, gave me a quick text or phonecall on what you were doing and I would’ve left you alone, or at least gave you somthing to work with. But you broke that, and I’m not sure if I can forgive you for that.” You confess and lean against the wall.

“I know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, you only would’ve worried about me/us. I wanted to, I really did, but it wouldn’t of been a good idea. I’m sorry, I messed up, and it ended in you getting shot, and I never like seeing you hurt. I indirectly shot you and I can never forgive myself for it!” He tells you.

“Give me a solid reason why you couldn’t tell me.”

“I was only trying to protect you!” He shouts.

“I can protect myself without you!” You shout back.

“So you’re saying you don’t need me?” He questions walking slowly towards you.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” You confirm.

“Are you sure about that?” He questions as he is one step away from you.

“Yes, and what are you gonna do about it?” You raise an eyebrow.

Calum presses himself up against you, placing his hands on your hips, and leans down to your ear.

“If you didn’t have me, then there’d be no one to satisfy you like I do, or as well as I do.” He says into your ear, moving down to your neck, feeling his warm breath, almost making you shiver.

“Are you sure about that?” You ask.

“Do you need me to demonstrate for you, babygirl?” He teasingly hovers his lips over your neck.

“I’m already picturing somonelse satisfying me, much better than you could ever dream of.” You smirk.

“I think you really need to be reminded of what I can do, babe.” He whispers and grinds his crouch against yours, finally connecting his lips to a part of your body.
He sucks on your neck, emmitting a tiny whimper from you.

Calum intertwines his fingers with yours and holds them above your head. This isn’t just part of his act, but an unsaid promise which speaks louder than words ever could.

Calum sucks on a sensitive spot, making you let out a small moan in pleasure, and that let’s him know he’s got you.

“Top or bottom?”

“I don’t have a bunk bed.”

Candids [Jason x Photojournalist!Reader]

A/N: Soz about not getting this up right away and I apologize even more in advance if this was shite. This is my second draft and a repost (due to errors) so I hope it’s alright. 

Y/N = your name.

One perk that came with being a freelance photojournalist meant you got to take cool candids for your blog. One perk that came with being a freelance photojournalist in Gotham, meant you got to take cool candids of the city’s very own vigilantes in action for your very dedicated blog.

People often asked you why you didn’t work with any of the news agencies like Gotham Gazette or GNN but you had, as an intern and you hated the working conditions. You were on call 24/7 and your deadlines were tight and sometimes you were out for hours following the action. Instead, you ended up selling some of your photos to them whenever they need material.

Now you worked on your own terms and your blog was decently successful. People from all over read your articles and shared your work, even though it was mostly just you gushing professionally about Batman and his group of birds and bats.

You had gotten a cold from lack of sleep and a stakeout at the docks from last week so you hadn’t been keeping up your blog, but the feeling of drowsiness and constant hacking of your lungs had lessened over the past few days so you decided it was time to get back into the kick of things.

Talk on social media said Nightwing was apparently back in town so you wanted to try and get some good shots of him before he went back into hiding. With your gear bag, you headed out for your hunt.

Two hours had passed on your stakeout and so far, all you had were a couple shots of the Pioneer’s bridge from your spot. You looked around through your camera and noticed someone sitting on the ledge of the clock tower a few blocks from you. You couldn’t tell who it was but you were hoping it was Nightwing.

You drove over and located the back door, instantly regretting your decisions when you noticed how many flights of stairs you had between you and your destination.

“The things I do for my blog…” You sighed as you tried to quicken up your pace before you missed Nightwing. The door to rooftop was alright slightly ajar so you quietly pushed it open to see if someone was still out there and to your surprise, they were.

You had been hoping it was Nightwing, but it wasn’t. It was the Red Hood in all his glory, sitting next to the gargoyle. He was dressed in his usual leather jacket and red helmet. He looked to almost be, pondering about something. You quickly uncapped your camera and got your angle right but what you had forgotten to do was turn off your flash.

You should have been more careful but it was too late to fix your mistake because the bright light had caught the vigilante’s attention and before you knew it, you were being held at gun point. The Red Hood stood against the ledge he was previously occupying with a gun aimed directly at you.

You let out a yelp of surprise as your camera fell against your abdomen and your hands came up in surrender.

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?” The Red Hood shouted as you tried to take a step back. That was your second mistake because he clicked off the safety lock of his gun and you knew if you dared to move another muscle, the next click wouldn’t be the safety lock returning to place.

You had heard the stories of the Red Hood and although it seemed less terrifying over your computer screen, you were nearly wetting your pants at the sheer thought of what he could do. “I-I don’t work for anyone! I’m a freelance journalist!”

“A what?” He asked and you trembled in your spot.

“A freelance journalist, I take photos of Gotham’s vigilantes and write articles about you guys on my blog.” You replied as you tried to sound brave but that wall came tumbling down as the masked vigilante walked up to you, gun still pointed. You whimpered as you closed your eyes.

Is this how you were going to die? Is this what they call “death on the job” because you’re not sure whether this is how you wanted to go.

You were sure he was going to blow your brain to mush with a click of the trigger but instead, you heard a slight snort and the gun being put back into his holster.

You opened your eyes slowly and looked up at the man in front you. You only ever got shots of him from far away but wow, was he ever tall and bulky…

“So you’re a fan? I didn’t know I had those.” He crossed his arms across his chest, adorned in with the red bat symbol.

“Y-yeah?” You wanted to tell him how he was quite well-liked within the community of readers on your blog but your voice faded out before you had the chance. You stood up a little straighter and gave a tiny cough. “My readers quite like you. They question your ethics but I might have accidentally swayed their opinions from that…”

“You’ve written articles about me?”

You were a bit taken back by the question but you nodded anyway, “Well, you are a vigilante, are you not?”

He thought about it for a second before chuckling, “I think I’m more of the anti-hero.”

You cocked your head to the side, capping your camera as you waited for an answer.

“I kill people and last I checked, everyone else sort of just injures them or knocks ‘em out for the cops to deal with.”

“But you’re still doing for the city, even if it’s not ethical… per say, you still get rid of the bad guys.” Red Hood shrugged in response.

The two of you stood in awkward silence for a couple seconds before he spoke up. “Do you have any cool candids of me to share?” You looked up in surprise and all though you couldn’t see his face, it sounded like he was smiling.

The two of you walked over to the ledge and you went through your camera, showing him the photos you had of him on your memory card. He took the time to admire them and ask about your job. It didn’t come as a surprise that he was a nice guy, but his funny personality kind of did. He joked around with you and even shared a few laughs and by the end of the night, you had long forgotten about why you even came up here in the first place.

He didn’t talk much about himself except how he died once and this was one of his favourite places to come when he wanted time alone to think or take up the view of the city, although he was very adamant you did not disclose that information to anyone. You zipped your lip and threw the invisible key, to which he laughed at.

Depicting body language came with the job as a writer and from the way he moved when he talked about himself, you could take from that the life of being an “anti-hero” was pretty lonely. You wanted to ask him for his opinion about relationships as a vigilante but thought better than to impede on his personal life.

He also took the time to apologize for holding you at gun point but you just brushed him off telling him you should be the one apologizing for trying to sneak up on him like that.

The two of you just hung out side by side as you took some quick photos of the view. Out of your peripheral vision, you could see Red Hood trying to take subtle glances at you, but you pretended not to notice. He was probably looking at something else or still tense from you sneaking up on him. After all, he was trained to be wary and vigilant of people and surroundings.

“Uh, I should probably head home to write my article… Plus you have a city to protect and all.” You smiled awkwardly as you packed up your stuff.

“Yeah, thank you for keeping me company.” Red Hood nodded along before looking around. “Do you have a safe way home?”

“I got my car downstairs.” You pointed your thumb at the door and started walking backward. “I guess I’ll see you around, don’t die again!”

The two of you shared a nod and you left. A hand came up to your chest as you bent over to breathe once the door was closed. Really? Don’t die again? Who the hell says that to a guy who once died? You couldn’t be more mortified at your choice of words, and before you could think anymore, you ran down the steps of the creepy stairs and got in your car to leave.

You spent the remainder of the night writing your article in your dimly lit apartment about how lonely the crime-fighting life can get. You could only assume how hard it was to find love and keep up relationships when you had bad guys going after you and your job consisted of putting yourself on the cusp of death every night. You wrote your thoughts down and checked it for errors before attaching the slightly edited photo of the Red Hood sitting next to his favourite gargoyle, Francis as he called it, before publishing it.

Over the course of the next few days, reads and comments poured in on your post, some agreeing with you and others asking where you got your “source” from. Many were amazed at how close and personal the photo was, stopping in the comments to ask if you knew him personally. You couldn’t address the last two so you just left them as it was and carried on with your other stuff.

The next time you saw him, you were catching Red Hood taking down a few thugs in Crime Alley. The photos worked out beautifully and you were just about to leave your spot in the alley across when he noticed your camera peeking out. The two of you stared at each other for a split second before you ran out the other side of your alley and drove off. The time after that, he was fighting alongside Arsenal to stop a drug shipment down at the docks. That one was a difficult scene to capture and just when you thought you had a good photo, you realized he had caught you once again and this time gave you a thumbs up in your photo. The fight was getting bad and the sound of more men coming scared you off.

You were still a little embarrassed about your awkward departure so you tried to make sure you always left before the fight was over, to avoid contact with him.

Tonight was a stakeout night so you were back at the rooftop a few blocks from the clock tower. The one that gave you a good view of his gargoyle. It was around two in the morning when you thought you had seen him perched in his usual spot tonight, but when you brought your camera up to your face, the figure was gone.

You were slightly disappointed. You took quite a liking to the red helmet wearing vigilante, but of course, you couldn’t come forth with that kind of confession to someone you didn’t really know and after your awkward departure, you really couldn’t work up the guts to face him again.

You were scoping out the rooftops through your camera, panning over for any signs of the bright red helmet when you turned to the side and yelped as the familiar red bat symbol had come into a close-up view. You let your camera fall against you as you bent over to catch your breath and calm your heartbeat. “Now I know how that feels.”

A chuckle came from him, slightly muffled from his mask but nonetheless loud enough for you to catch. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of you. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I told you I kept a safe distance from the action. I don’t want to get involved.” You defended yourself as you packed up.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I would protect you if someone else caught you.” The cocky attitude was laced in his words and you couldn’t help but blush.

“Why waste your time?”

“Because who else is going to take sexy candids of me during my fights if Gotham lost their best photojournalist?” He leaned up against the ledge of the building as you stopped for a moment. “I read your article by the way. The one with me and the gargoyle.”

Your eyes widened as you blushed furiously, “And?”

“It was really well-written. You hit the nail right on the head.” He praised you and your heart swelled at his compliment. The Red Hood just complimented your work. The Red Hood read your work. “But to be honest, I wasn’t feeling all that lonely that night. I had you to talk to, and I quite enjoyed our time so it was a shame you never came back to visit. I was expecting you to when you said you would see me around.”

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you looked up to meet his masked eyes. “It looks like you’re closing shop for the night but if you get the chance next time, come visit Francis and I. If not, I’ll look for you myself.” And with that, he was gone. You heard him grapple away but you were still in shock from what he said to move.



Tagging: @a-fallen-little-pine-cone @cupoftim 

Complimentary Tag: @kindaace 

The Sun Will Set || Part 10 (Final) || BTS Gang AU ||

Originally posted by bestteamofsoulmates

A/N: After over a year of working on TSWS, it has finally come to an end. I am so grateful for the support I’ve received from you guys for this series, and I just want you to know that your feedback and love is what made me able to finish TSWS. Please let me know your thoughts and feelings. <3


Summary: After a series of unfortunate events, you’ve found yourself under the care and protection of your city’s most notorious gang: BTS.

Word Count: 6.9k

Genre: Angst, Drama, and some Fluff (but mostly Angst)

Warnings: Character death, violence, intense action

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue |

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A Different Mask

Hi this is bad but I’m posting it anyway

The world of the Phantom Thieves was a hilly one. There were challenges and calm, dangers and warm moments. But all the Phantom Thieves had one thing in common: they went through their pain together. They had been there for each other when nobody else possibly could be. When one Thief couldn’t be there, there was always another to help with whatever pain one had. They were, as they say, thick as thieves. All the Phantom Thieves had reached one unconscious conclusion, as well: none of them had been through as much as their leader. They all agreed on it, even if they didn’t know it.

Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

The group would always be there for each other. Akira knew that fully well. Yet he never leaned on them when things got rough in his head. They all relied on each other, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to put his problems on their shoulders. Whenever his confidence wavered in a Palace, the team was always hyping him up. But that’s all they saw.

They didn’t see his emotions outside the Metaverse. Those were his only secret. They didn’t know about his nightmares. They didn’t know the reason he listened to all of their problems was so they didn’t end up like him. He wanted them to have someone to turn to. So he locked his feelings away to be the cool and collected leader he was. Supposedly.

He kept his trauma inside. He kept the anger he felt when his friends were taunted and teased contained. He tried to make the comments from the kids at Shujin go in one ear and out the other. Whenever someone looked at him with that look of disapproval, he oh so tried to shake it off. But it all made him have days where everything just felt… numb. Like nothing he did mattered. These days were the days he thought about betrayal. Where he thought about his friends leaving him behind. Abandoning him.

Akira Kurusu was scared.

Today was a day where his feelings slipped themselves into every crack of his thoughts they could find. They partially distracted him at school, made his comments to his friends sound half-hearted when he truly meant them, kept his responses to Sojiro short, and made him reluctantly obey Morgana when he told him to sleep.

“Hey, Akira, what’d you get on the third question of the test? I put B, but I’m not very confident in my answers,” Ann sighed, resting her head on her hand. She had her mouth in a pout with her genuine look of unconfidence.

“I got B, too,” Akira responded. He sounded uninterested, but he really wanted to boost Ann’s spirits.

“Oh, great!” Ann said with a smile. “That makes me feel better.”

She spun back around when the next teacher walked in the room. He didn’t miss her look of slight concern while she turned.

“Welcome back. How was school?” Sojiro asked when the bell rang above the door to LeBlanc.

“Good, as always,” Akira responded, it didn’t come out as he intended it to.

Sojiro just laughed softly, “An answer I’d expect from you.”

He frowned as Akira moved towards the stairs, absentmindedly wiping away at a glass.

“So, you ready to go to bed?” Morgana asked later.

“Yep,” Akira replied, sliding under the covers. “I’m tired.”

“For once,” Morgana said sarcastically. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Akira turned on his side and shut his eyes.

He didn’t see Morgana jump on the bed and give him a worried look. He just felt him curl up next to him and release a sigh.

Akira had a nightmare. He was back in Okumura’s Palace. A crowd of worker robots surrounded him and his friends. They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They fought and they fought to no avail. Akira had to watch as his friends fell around him, one by one.

Ann was bleeding from a wound on her head. Makoto’s arm was broken at the elbow, told by it’s odd angle. Yusuke was so beaten he couldn’t stand. Futaba was trapped outside the circle, not hurt but in danger. Morgana was struggling to stay conscious. Ryuji’s leg had given out on him due to the stress. Haru was standing mostly uninjured, but her father’s shadow was pestering her with “Okumura Daughter” duties. Akira was helpless he couldn’t do anything. He was exhausted. He fell to his knees.

“This is what brats like you get for meddling in the wrong business,” Okumura walked to Akira. “You get beat.”

There was a gun shot, but Akira missed it. He woke with a start. He was shaking. He felt lightheaded. He couldn’t focus. He pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed them tight. He didn’t notice Morgana stir next to him.

Morgana didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to risk Akira’s panic getting worse. Instead he just pretended to shift in his sleep.

Akira’s shaky hand reached for the windowsill. He grabbed his phone and checked the group chat. Nobody had said anything since their final goodnights. He wanted to talk with someone, anyone. But who would be awake at this time of night? He gave in.

Akira: Is anyone awake?

Ryuji: yeah

Ann: yep

Futaba: mhm

Yusuke: Yes.

Haru: I am.

Makoto: So we’re all awake at this ungodly hour?

Ryuji: i couldnt sleep

Ann: Me neither

Ann: I keep falling asleep and waking up again

Haru: I get how you feel, I was just thinking of texting you all myself.

Yusuke: I am only awake because Futaba is keeping me up with her constant messaging.

Futaba: this is important stuff im sending you!

Yusuke: You are sending me pictures of foxes in costumes.


Makoto: So in one way or another… We all are having a struggle with sleeping.

Ryuji: thats what it looks like

Ryuji: aww man i wish we could meet up

Ryuji: im not even sure if i feel tired anymore

Ann: I mean, it’s almost 5, we could meet up anyways?

Makoto: When did everyone go to bed?

Ryuji: 10

Ann: 9:45

Haru: Nine ‘o clock.

Yusuke: Eleven

Akira: 10:30

Futaba: ive taken naps throughout the day so im not really tired

Makoto: I see.

Makoto: Well, I guess we all got reasonable hours of sleep.

Makoto: I will permit this once, and only because we are all in the same boat here.

Ryuji: all right!

Ann: Yes! I’ve always dreamed of doing something like this!

Yusuke: Where should we meet?

Ryuji: how about Akira’s place? is that ok? the place doesn’t open until 8, right?

Akira: Yeah, it should be fine.

Haru: What about Mona? Is he awake?

Akira poked the cat with his finger. His hand still felt slightly shaky, but he was calming. Morgana meowed in reply, but rolled onto his side to look up at Akira.

Akira: He’s up.

Futaba: Great! See you all there!

Akira sat his phone screen down on his bed. Morgana now laid on his stomach, his tail swishing around.

“What’s up?” he asked drowsily.

“Everyone’s coming over. No one could sleep except you,” Akira replied, semi-sarcastic.

“Ok, might wanna fix that bedhead of yours a bit, though,” Morgana replied.

Futaba was quick to hop onto Akira’s bed, sitting criss-cross for once. Ryuji sat on one end of the couch and Ann on the other, stretching her legs out across Ryuji’s lap. Makoto and Haru sat on the floor by the sofa. Yusuke simply took a chair.

“Man, I’m glad to be outta my house. There was no chance of me sleepin’ anymore,” Ryuji groaned.

“Every time I shut my eyes, they just wanted to open again,” Ann complained through a partial yawn.

“I would fall asleep for an hour at a time. It’s rare I sleep like that,” Haru shook her head.

“Do we all have something on our mind that’s keeping us up?” Makoto questioned why this was happening.

“Umm… not that I can think of,” Ann answered.

“There’s nothing that would keep me up at night except Futaba,” Yusuke commented.

“Shut it, Inari,” Futaba responded.

Akira fumbled for words. He ran a hand through his hair in thought. While the others maintained a steady conversation on sleep habits, Akira was lost in his thoughts. He wanted to tell them. He didn’t want to keep his emotions a secret anymore, they deserved to know. They cared about him and should know when he’s feeling down. But how could he start? He didn’t have to.

“Akira? You ok?” Morgana asked, tail swishing. “You look kind of out of it.”

“Now that he mentions it, ya do, dude. What’s up?” Ryuji is quick to follow up.

Akira hesitates, “There… There’s something I need to tell you all.”

Akira talked the most he had ever talked at once then. He told them about his nightmares of losing them and everything he’s ever known. He told them about his emotions building up and how he felt like crap on those certain days. He poured his heart out in a matter of minutes because he wanted to stop hiding this. He wanted to stop being scared. He talked about the trial and being sent to Tokyo by his parents and how it made him feel so… abandoned. Betrayed.

“Akira… You know you can talk to us, man,” Ryuji was frowning though he was definitely concerned.

“Yes, you will always be one of us,” Yusuke spoke, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Mhm, text me whenever and I’ll be sure to respond!” Futaba nodded encouragingly.

“We will always be there for you, Akira,” Makoto had slid closer and placed a hand on his knee. “Wherever we may be, we will always be willing to talk.”

Akira felt his hands get shaky again. But there was no fear or panic this time, just relief. They still saw him as Joker, their leader. Their tactician. Their friend.

“I never would have known this affected you so much if you hadn’t told us,” Ann frowned guiltily.

“Yeah, I feel bad,” Ryuji looked sad. He faced Akira seriously. “Just worry about yourself, man, before you worry about what others say.”

“They don’t know you like we do, anyways,” Futaba added.

Akira nodded. His face was hot. He was struggling to keep his shaky hands under control. He felt tears welling behind his eyes. Why was he still trying to keep his emotions in?

“I’m glad you told us about this,” Haru smiled at him warmly.

“You can surely rely on us as much as we have relied on you, leader,” Yusuke says assuringly.

Futaba quickly hugged Akira’s arm when he began to cry. It ended up with all of the Phantom Thieves on or around his bed. Ann was on his other side, head on his shoulder. Ryuji sat on the other side of Futaba, his hand lingering close to Akira. Makoto was kneeling in front of him, clasping a hand in both of hers. Yusuke and Haru sat in chairs on either side of her, leaning in close to fill the circle.

Akira’s free hand was on his face, wiping away tears that kept being replaced. Morgana squeezed in and curled up in his lap, nudging him with his nose.

“We’re a team, Akira. Teammates never leave another behind,” he said, closing his eyes.

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had always had one thing in common: they shared their pain together. And they all awakened to one more thing; Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

Take These Broken Wings




Sam pressed a small kiss to your cheek before you stepped away, heading to a late afternoon meeting. Not long after Sam settled back in the booth, Gabriel appeared.

“Well, well, well,” he said, slipping in next to Dean. The elder Winchester shot the angel a glare before returning his attention back to his pie.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?” Sam asked.

“This place has amazing brownies. But that’s not why I’m here in this booth.” Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “I never knew you were a Winger.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what we call humans who go after angels.”

“I… what?”

“Technically, you’re only a half-Winger, but we don’t discriminate.”

“Gabriel, what are you talking about?” Dean asked through a mouthful of pie.

“Well, that sweet little thing that just left is Sam’s hot stuff, right?”

“She’s… my girlfriend,” Sam said, completely confused as to what was happening.

Gabriel sighed, seeing that the Winchesters were a little dimmer than usual. “That girl that just left isn’t human. She’s part angel.”

“What?” the Winchesters asked in unison.

“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

Sam shook his head. “How…”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing one of my siblings did the naughty with a human behind Father’s back and nine months later, your girlfriend came along.” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “Do I need to walk you through the baby-making process?”

“So, what does that mean?” Sam asked. “Does she have… abilities? Can she fly? What…”

“You’d have to ask her the specifics. I hear they vary with each half-breed.”

Dean glanced at his brother. “I can already tell that’s going to be a fun conversation.”


Sam yanked open the door the moment he heard your car door slam. You smiled up at him as you approached.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You sounded pretty upset on the phone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you… what?”

“That you’re half angel.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What…”

“Gabriel stopped by the diner just after you left. He told me.”

You looked up at Sam. His face was stony, his mouth a thin line. He wasn’t furious, by any means… but you could tell he was disappointed that you’d hidden something this big from him. “Sam, I’m sorry. I just…”

“I thought we agreed to be honest with each other. Didn’t we say that was an important foundation for our relationship?”

“Yes, but–”

“I… I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else.”

“I know, but–”

“And then it takes Gabriel coming in to tell me that you’ve been hiding something from me. Something huge.”


“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “I… don’t know. Probably?”


“Look, I’m sorry, Sam. But… it’s not really something easy to say to someone.”

“No? ‘Hey, I just thought you should know, I’m part angel’. Seems pretty easy to me.”


He sighed. “Look, I… I need some time to let this settle. I’ll…” He shook his head. “Dean’s found a hunt over in Kentucky. We’re heading there in the morning. I’ll call you when we get back.”

“Oh. Okay…”

Sam gave you one last look before slowly shutting the door.


Sam was running through the woods; the crashing behind him told him the creature was close, not giving up the chase. Sam dodged left, darting through the trees.

Unfortunately, that led to a dead-end, a huge rock looming before him.

The crashing continued, nearing him. Sam pulled out his gun, holding it in front of him, eyes trying to find the creature in the dark.

And then the crashing stopped.

Sam held his breath, listening for the slightest noise to indicate where the creature might be. He was almost lured into a sense of security before a loud noise sounded beside him. Sam whirled around, gun cocked.

“Hey,” Dean said, stepping through the trees. “Where’s the thing?”

“Dammit, Dean! I almost shot you!”

“Well, that’s a little rude.”

The brothers headed back the way Sam had come. They never saw the creature, corpse-like or alive. Shrugging it off, they headed back to the motel. Dean dropped Sam off and went to go grab food and beer.

Sam finished cleaning himself up just as there was a knock on the door. “Did you forget your key?” he asked, opening the door.

It wasn’t his brother standing in front of him.

“Hi, Sam,” you said quietly.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Look, I know you’re probably still mad at me, but I need your help.”

Sam noticed the scratches on your face and hands; your hair was mussed, your clothes wrinkled and slightly dirty. “What happened to you?”

“I was in the woods with you.”

“What? Why?”

You shook your head. “That creature was going to kill you.”

“So… what did you–”

“I took care of it.”

That explained the sudden quiet that had happened in the forest. “Thank you,” Sam said. He reached forward, pulling you into a hug, earning a hiss of pain from you. “What’s wrong?” Sam asked, pulling back immediately.

“I… I hurt my wing. I need you to splint it.”

Sam knew an angel’s wings were the most important thing to them; the fact that you were asking him to fix them was a big deal. He stepped back, letting you into the room. You stepped to the bed as Sam pulled out his phone. He grabbed the first aid kit as he searched for wing repair.

“The only thing I’m finding is about birds’ wings,” he said, sitting behind you.

“It’s the same general principle,” you said.

“Okay,” Sam said, a little unsure. He examined the pictures on his phone. He didn’t want to screw this up.

He heard the flutter of feathers and looked up. Your wings were spread out, huge, magnificent things. They were a gradient of purple: dark at the bottom, almost black, growing lighter until they were almost white at the tops.

Sam immediately saw where the injury was; feathers were rumpled and part of the wing was bent at an angle that looked painful, even to Sam. He carefully reached forward, gently brushing against your feathers. Your wing twitched under his palm. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. Can you…”

“Right.” Sam set about trying to fix your wing as gently as possible. He tied the bandage tight, holding your wing in what looked like the proper position.

“There,” he said after a while. “I think that’s fixed. How does it feel?”

He watched you stretch your wings. “It’s sore, but it should heal.” You turned to Sam. “Thank you.”

Sam nodded. “Thank you for, uh… trusting me.”

“Sam, I trust you more than anyone.” You looked down to your lap. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“It’s okay. I… might’ve overreacted. After all, that is pretty big news. Not something you could just… drop during dinner.”

A car door slammed outside, signaling Dean’s return. “I should go,” you said, standing.

“Are you sure? Will you be able to make it home?”

Your wing twitched. “I’ll be fine. Once I get home I can recuperate.” You leaned down, pressing a kiss to Sam’s cheek. “I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”

Sam nodded, watching as you disappeared.


The next morning, Sam rolled over, rubbing a hand over his eyes. When he opened them, he noticed something on the pillow next to him.

He reached over, carefully picking up the feather. He clicked on the light next to him, the feather sparkling slightly in the low light. It somehow had the entire gradient of your wings in it.

It was gorgeous.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “What’s with the feather?”

Lost Series - Part Five

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Paring : Jerome x Fem. Reader

Requests are open. xx

Originally posted by savagepatchkidzzz

I sat on the hood of this oil truck that we stole. I didn’t know what we were doing, but to be honest I don’t really care. Aaron, Greenwood and Jerome sat inside of the truck and Dobkins stood off to the side doing whatever it is that he does. I leaned against the windshield and lit a joint.

I glanced behind me and saw a school bus about to drive by. I knocked against the window and nodded my head towards the bus. Jerome smirked.

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12x14 watching notes

this show normally never makes me cry except that 1 episode in season 7, but god dammit Berens got me TWICE I’m disowning him

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thegirlwiththestories  asked:

Hey could you please do an Jason Todd imagine where he insults the reader saying they're too nice but then he sees the reader go all shark lawyer mode and or kick someone's ass while being incredibly sarcastic

Author’s Note: Oh I love to pick on Jason. This should be fun. This is loosely set in the Young Justice universe, I suppose. I realize Jason is ostensibly not in the YJ universe, but there’s so much stuff from that universe that’s just so useful.

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Eighth Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third


Scully spent Christmas Eve at Maggie’s surrounded by loud family, mounds of presents, her mother’s recently acquired goldfish and what felt like a gigantic hole where her heart should have been. William enjoyed his Merry-Go-Round ride from relative to relative, drooling, patting, sitting up and pulling hair whenever possible. She, on the other hand, spent her time staring into space, remembering the two Christmases that Mulder spent with her family, sitting behind her on the floor, hand gently resting a hair’s width from her thigh, shin folded against her back end as he shuffled up close, watching the festivities over her shoulder, his breath so close to her, so warm and soft on her neck.

Suddenly, a restlessness shook her, a need to move, a need to see him, a need to hold him so strong she had to stand, pacing back and forth to the confusion of her mother, who watched her quietly from the couch. Her circle took her from the living room to the kitchen, down the hall, past the bathroom and stairs, soon returning to the living room. She traced the path four times before she found Maggie standing in her way in the darkened hall.

“Honey, are you all right?”

Rooted there, hands playing with themselves, wringing absently, “I need to go home, Mom. I just … something … I need to go. I’m sorry. I know it’s not that late but if you won’t hate me, I’m going to get going.”

She didn’t want to see them go but something in Dana’s tone of voice drove her to nod her head, “of course. Just tell everyone Will kept you up late last night and you both need your rest.”

Crooking an eyebrow and trying to smile, “lying on Christmas Eve. God will not approve.”

“I’ll deal with the repercussions but I think it will be fine.” Giving Scully a hug, “just don’t forget to come back in the morning. I’ll have been too long away from my little Will by then.” Stepping back, Maggie gave her a soft look, “we’ll be up at 6am, like usual, Mass at 9, breakfast at 10:30, like always.”

“We’ll be here, promise.”

With a smile, “do your best.”


Scully managed to get into her apartment and lock the door before she stopped dead in her tracks, her senses coming on line instantly. Putting Will’s carrier gently down on the floor partially under the end table, she slipped her gun from her waist, then began scouting the apartment, not sure what was bothering her but looking thoroughly through every room, closet, behind ever door and under every bed. Once she was satisfied, she returned to the living room, retrieving Will first before her eyes finally processed what was different.

Hanging on the Christmas tree, dead center and nearly hidden by an angled branch, was an ornament that had not been there earlier in the day.

Spinning quickly on her heel, she half expected to see him standing behind her, ready to scare the bejesus out of her, kiss her, hug her, cry when he saw how big his son was becoming. Instead, she only saw an empty kitchen, cold and dark, the misery overwhelming her instantly; she’d missed him, missed him sneaking in, missed him wanting to see his little boy and her, missed him so close she could smell his soap and taste his skin.

She burst into tears.


It was well after midnight before she finally began dozing, her head nodding, her ears finally relaxing to every sound made within the apartment. She was just slipping into a half-formed dream of Mulder when she felt a pair of ice cold lips on her own. Eyes flying open, Scully saw him, so real and so very close that the first thing she did was swing, heavy-fisted, catching him squarely at the top of his cheekbone, sliding her knuckles across his closed eye and ramming into his nose. After a millisecond of hesitated confusion, she was crouching over his hunched form, Mulder holding his face and groaning.

Yanking his hands away, she twisted his head towards her and kissed him, amazed he was real and whole and in front of her when she missed him the most.

He kissed her back for a few moments, then pulled away, whispering, “what the hell was that!?”

She met his mouth again and he stopped asking questions, too busy running his hands over her, pulling her tightly against him, to worry about a bruised cheekbone and burning eye. He only separated enough to pull the sweater over her head, making a note to comment on it eventually, once he remembered how to say more than a moaned ‘I love you’ in the general vicinity of her bare breasts, smooth thighs, curved ass and valleyed back.


The fear, however, set in the moment the pooled sweat between them began to evaporate. He felt her muscles tense, coiling in preparation to defend him, to kill him, to throw him from her house in fear for their son’s life.

His hands came down on her upper arms, his leg holding her knees, voice almost inaudibly, “don’t do this yet … please?”

She beat him to the punch, sliding sideways from his grasp and off the bed, shivering suddenly in the cold darkness, “do what? Wonder if somebody’s going to break in here and kill you? Shoot you in my bed?”

Mulder shushed her as he sat up, pulling the sheets around his shoulders, “yell any louder you’re going to wake up Will.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Mulder? You’re supposed to be hiding somewhere, far, far away from the eight thousand people who have you at the top of their shit list.”

Seeing this might not go as smoothly as he’d hoped, he sat up, pushing aside sheets, reaching out to wrap his fingers around her hip to pull her closer, “I couldn’t stay away. Not on Christmas. The guys have been dropping hints that I’m somewhere in southern Florida and the surveillance team that had eyes on you tonight gave up and went home to their families or their bottles of whiskey or their mothers, I have no idea, but Byers gave me the all clear to come in and I did and you belted me.”

Stomach clenching, “there’s a team on me?”

“Yeah. Skinner’s guys so not too terrible but I couldn’t have anyone, not even Walter, know I’m here so I had to wait until they left.”

By now, she was trapped between knobby knees, thigh muscles giving under the pressure of his hold on her, “then where did the ornament come from?”

Not smiling, wishing with all his heart he’d been the one to hang it, “I gave it to Frohike to hang for me in case I didn’t make it inside.”

She kissed him again with a fierceness fueled by six-month separation, her lips hovering over his when she finally pulled back to catch her breath, “do you want to see Will?”

His arms tightened around her, a spasmodic jerk of nervous anxiety, “yes, please.”

After pulling on pajamas, she retrieved their son, climbing carefully into bed before laying him between them. Mulder settled beside him immediately, head against the mattress alongside the boy’s, staring in wonder at his perfect nose, curved chin and pursed lips, “God, Scully, how can I ever leave him again?”

“You don’t have to.”

Allowing Will to blur slightly as he focused on Scully over his head, “please don’t make this harder. I have a few more hours then,” tears ran rivers down his cheeks at this point but she made no move to clear them, “God, don’t fight with me now, okay? I can’t handle it.”

Heart breaking, she cried with him, watching him smooth his fingers over light eyebrows and reddening hair, button nose and chin cleft, apple-round cheeks and near-translucent eyelids. Quiet tears fell on small pajamas and Scully held her boys as close as possible while they snuggled on the rumpled bed, breathed lullabies sung to sleeping ears. Mulder lived, for a brief moment, the mundane, homebound existence he wished for and dreamed of every hour he was awake and every moment he slept.

Eventually, exhaustion drove her to sleep but Mulder remained alert, basking in the precious time he was part of a family again.

His family.

His tiny, bigger than the world family.


He stayed until just before dawn, holding his boy close for the last hour, cradling him to his chest, memorizing his smell, his fingers and toes, his hummingbird heartbeat and the sounds he made, from cooing to grunting to that soul-melting sigh that made Mulder shut his eyes, try to absorb the perfection that was his son.


Scully woke to an empty bed, Will gone but making noise on the baby monitor, demanding breakfast and a clean diaper. The depression settled in quickly, the cold, heaviness of the apartment telling her he was already gone.

Moving automatically to Will’s room, she found a note hanging from the crib, taped and innocently waiting to be read. Forcing herself to wait until she’d changed Will and fed him, she finally settled him on her hip before unfolding the paper.

An hour later, she forced herself to get both of them ready for the return trip to Grandma’s house, Scully finally giving up halfway through, moving to the tree to examine yet again the ornament he’d left behind: one of a little boy in an oversize Yankee jersey, cap askew, glove at his feet, bat too large to hold up off the ground with the words ‘Daddy’s Little Home Run Hitter’ written underneath.

On the opposite side, Mulder had carefully printed in his trademark Sharpie “I love you” and the year.

Sneaking Around

Request by @mrs-erin-winchester: Cas and the reader are dating and the reader is the Winchester’s younger sister. The brothers find out about their relationship after seeing Cas and the reader kiss, and they get super protective.

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, language, mention of torture, das about it

A/N: SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT ON THIS. turns out I’m super slow with requests.

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Originally posted by supernaturally-wwe-imagines

Warning: NSFW gif a bit further under the cut!

You and Cas had been sneaking around for months.

It wasn’t because you wanted to sneak around; you were both consenting adults who loved each other, so of course you didn’t want to hide your relationship.

It was because you needed to. More specifically, it was because of your idiot brothers.

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Playing Games - Part 1 - Smut

Originally posted by ultraciderqueen

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski / Reader
Words: 1,943
A/N: Okay so there was a picture that inspired this and then I got an anon about it so idk I thought it was a good idea. Possible part 2 if you’re interested.

Part 2 Here

Scott McCall was a bastard. That’s all you could think as you climbed out of the backseat of the jeep. He was on one of his “pack togetherness” kicks and was forcing you to do group activities. Which was fine, you liked hanging out with everyone, but you were dreading this particular outing. You were going to play laser tag, which you were sure was going to be fun and all, but you weren’t very good at it. You were klutzy on a good day, and you just pictured yourself sprawled on the carpet while Malia stood above you shooting you over and over and racking up points. You honestly felt bad for whoever’s team you got stuck on.

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” Scott said, patting you on the shoulder when he caught the sour look on your face.

“Tell that to the bruises I’ll have tomorrow.” You dead panned, following him into the sports complex.

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Spa Day - Lance x Reader

Requested by anon: can i request a lance x reader where the reader is really tired so on the paladins’s day off (poor babies, they need a break) she goes to lance because she knows he has a lot of face masks and all that? so basically lance arranges a mini spa day for her in the castle lmao

I love this request it’s so adorable and tbh I could totally see Lance doing this, thanks for the request and I hope you like it :D Also wasn’t sure whether to make the reader a paladin or an engineer or something so I’ve left their role vague.

Also this was written before I’ve watched season 3, so the team makeup is season 2 era, not sure if anything in s3 will have a major impact on this fic but just to let people know.


“If we hit the outpost from this angle, we can catch them by surprise and maybe get rid of their main gun before they even know we’re there” Keith said thoughtfully gesturing at a holo image of the exterior of a hostile Galra outpost.

“Good point, what about if we have Hunk do that whilst Pidge stealth’s the rest of us inside in Green?” Shiro asked.

“But that leaves Hunk to deal with the rest of the Galra fighters by himself, I should probably stay behind in Blue to assist” Lance interjected, quick to defend his friend.

“Hmmm… yeah that’s probably for the best, but what about-” Hunk’s voice trailed off.

Y/N sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, she was beginning to get a headache and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the strategy discussion that was happening around her.

It had been a very long week, they’d been hitting outpost after outpost, defeating Galra patrols and severing supply lines. It had taken the Galra 10,000 years to conquer the universe and it often felt like it would take that long to put an end to their reign of tyranny.

At that moment Y/N felt someone squeeze hold of her hand and she looked up to see Lance, giving her a concerned look. Y/N shook her head slightly as if to say “it’s nothing”, before turning her attention back to the battle strategy.

“Well the information will probably take at least a day before it’s completely decoded, so either we wait a day and go in with a floor plan for the outpost or we go now and go in blind” Pidge said pushing her glasses further up her nose.

“I think the best course would be to wait, we don’t want to take any unnecessary risks” Allura said, concern lacing her voice.

“Agreed, everyone get some rest for today we’ll reconvene tomorrow” Shiro nodded.

Everyone sighed with relief and dispersed, apparently everyone else was as tired as  Y/N was.

As Y/N began to walk out of the room, Lance rushed up behind her and wrapped his arm gently around her.

“Hey babe, what’s up you looked all zoned out in there”

“I’m just tired and getting a headache is all, I just need a nice hot shower and a nap and I’ll be fine”

Lance didn’t say anything for a moment but then he smiled widely as though a light bulb had gone off over his head.

“Great idea babe, go have a shower and something to eat but hold off on the nap for now”

“Wait…why?” Y/N asked suspiciously.

“Just trust me okay, I’ll come and get you when it’s all ready” Lance said planting a quick kiss on Y/N’s lips before bounding off down the corridor to his room.

“When what’s all ready?” Y/N called out after him.


About an hour later Y/N was lying on her bed, willing herself not to fall asleep, she felt better for having a hot shower and a good meal although her headache was threatening to make it’s return, probably because she’d spent the last hour desperately trying to figure out what Lance was planning. Just then she heard a knock at her door.

“Come in”

Lance entered smiling widely and gestured at her to follow him, Y/N got up off the bed and followed him down the castle’s corridors until they were in a part of the castle that Y/N didn’t recognise, just as she was about the question Lance about their location he stopped in front of a door.

“Okay close your eyes” Lance instructed and Y/N did as she was told, but as she heard Lance open the door she had to fight not to peek, as if he had heard her thoughts Lance covered her eyes with his hands as he guided her into the room.

Even before she opened her eyes Y/N’s senses were hit with a variety of smells, some flowery, other’s fruity, all of them combined were a little overwhelming but very pleasant. It was at this moment that Lance removed his hands from her eyes and Y/N took this as her cue to open them and gasped at what she saw.

The room they had entered was dimly lit with candles scattered on various surfaces, there was a small sofa with plump cushions surrounding a table and another area where blankets and pillows had been arranged like a sort of bed.
“Lance did you do all of this?” Y/N asked astonished.

“Yup, I figured we could both do with some pampering to de-stress, you especially”

“Lance I…” Y/N was at a loss for words so instead she pulled Lance into a tight hug and a long kiss.

“I know, I know I shouldn’t have and I’m the best boyfriend ever” Lance said with a smug smile when they finally parted. “Now come over here and lie down on your front”

Lance guided Y/N over to the nest of blankets and she lay down eyeing Lance suspiciously, he cracked his knuckles.

“Are you ready?” Lance asked, smiling.

“For what exactly?” Y/N asked even more suspicious than before.

“For the best massage of your life” Lance replied as though it was obvious.

That answer didn’t really reassure Y/N though.

“Do you actually know how to give someone a massage?”

“Yes! Of course I do, I happen to be very good at it thank you very much” Lance said in mock offense.

“Alright maestro, show me what you’ve got” Y/N said settling back down on the blankets and closing her eyes and preparing for the worst.

She needn’t have worried, Lance hadn’t been exaggerating which Y/N quickly realised as he reached over and began to gently massage her shoulders. At which point Y/N let out a noise that was half sigh, half moan. Lance’s hands hesitated for a moment and he coughed awkwardly.

“Umm babe could you try not to make noises like that, it’s uh…a little distracting” Lance murmured blushing.

“Oh…yeah, sorry, I’ll try” Y/N replied, also blushing slightly. Lance’s hands soon resumed their massaging.

“Geez Y/N you really are stressed, your muscles are all tense”

“Mmmm…” Y/N mumbled too chilled out to hear a word Lance was saying. The next thing Y/N knew she was been gently shaken awake by Lance.

“Hey sleeping beauty”

Y/N stretched and sat up, looking around her, she was still in Lance’s pamper room but she felt a lot better now, much more relaxed, which she suspected was more down to Lance’s massage than her impromptu nap.

“You know you’re really adorable when you sleep” Lance said smiling fondly and then laughing at the embarrassed look Y/N gave him.

“Thanks for doing this for me Lance you were right I really did need to relax”

“Hey, we’re not done yet” Lance said smiling as he helped her to her feet and led her by the hand over to the sofa, on a table nearby sat a selection of face masks.

“Ladies first” Lance said as he took a seat and gestured at the masks.
Y/N looked through the options and eventually chose a strawberry and watermelon one, while Lance chose citrus.

Lance helped Y/N apply the gooey mixture to her face and she couldn’t help but giggle as it tickled her skin, after he was done Y/N helped Lance apply his own mask.

Once they were both suitably covered, Lance and Y/N settled back onto the sofa, Lance slipped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and she snuggled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and trying not to smear her mask.

“Feeling better?” Lance asked Y/N smiling down at her.

“Much better, thank you Lance, for all of this, you were right you really are the worlds best boyfriend”

“Mmmhmm” Lance answered before yawning widely.

They stayed like that for a while until they both nodded off.


“Hey…hey lovebirds, wake up. Don’t make me go and get a bucket of cold water”

Y/N stirred awake and felt Lance doing the same next to her, she stared in shock at Pidge standing before them with a smug grin on her face.

“Errr…Hey Pidge” Y/N said as she reached up to rub her eyes and felt the half peeled face mask still present then looked over at Lance to see his face mask also still there, although his too was peeling badly.

“So…Shiro’s waiting for you both, we’re going over the plan for the battle today. But you might wanna wash your faces first” Pidge continued, barely suppressing her laughter.

“Pidge, if you tell anyone about this I swear I’ll…I’ll…do something really bad to you” Lance said trying and failing to sound menacing.

“Don’t worry Lance I won’t say a word” Pidge left the room smirking and returned to the others.

She kept her promise and didn’t say a word, she did however show everyone the photo’s she had taken of the sleeping couple.

Jump Scares

Request- Could you write a sister!reader imagine where she gets scared by loud sounds (ex balloons popping, doors slamming) and tfw finds out and comforts her (I love your account)

Word count- 871

Masterlist  Prompt list  Send in a request

Tags- @evyiione @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

A/n- After what seems like years I have finally posted again! This is just a simple one to get the ball rolling again. I actually relate so much to this story because I get scared so easily! I have changed the request ever so slightly so I hope that’s okay :)

“Jesus Christ on a bicycle!” Placing your hand on your heart you starting panting after getting jump scared…by the toaster. “Evil little shit.“ You whispered, glaring at the toast while spreading butter on it. Being a hunter you would think you wouldn’t be scared of anything. Nope. The slightest noise could give you a heart attack. Of course your brothers or Castiel didn’t know, you would be teased for the rest of your life.

It was the middle of the day when you decided to emerge from your room again. Making your way to the living room you sat down in between your brothers. “What you watching?“ Snatching popcorn of Dean he glared at you while your cheeks were filled with popcorn.

Sam shook his head laughing thinking you looked like a chipmunk. “I found a link to watch the new IT movie. Wanna join us?”

Tensing up you saw your brothers waiting for your answer. Slowly nodding, Sam pressed play and you carefully grabbed a pillow, getting ready to hide behind it. “But don’t you hate clowns Sammy?”

“Got to face my fear one day.” He says taking a deep breath before pulling you close to him.

“Idiots.” Dean rolled his eyes, smirking to himself.

So to say watching a horror film for the first time went bad was an understatement. Half way through you ended up running and hiding in your room. While the boys laughed and carried on watching you were shaking in your bed. 

“Hello (Y/n).”

With a scream you fell off your bed, quickly followed by Cas helping you up again. “What did I say about popping up randomly?!” Trying to catch your breath, Sam and Dean soon slammed open your door. Yet again causing you to jump. 

“Something isn’t right.“ Cas tilted his head, studying your face.  

“No shit Sherlock.” Finally calming down you fell on to your bed and just layed there. “Just can you all leave please?“ You heard nothing but the sound of footsteps making their way out and the door closing very quietly. Turning on your side you felt your eyelids getting heavy. A day full of jump scares sure does tire a girl out. Falling asleep you could only pray tomorrow would be better.

The next day you made your way back to the kitchen. Putting the middle finger up at the toaster you made yourself some cereal. “Sam? Dean?” You called out their names but got no reply. Probably just went shopping. Shrugging it off you continued your morning, avoiding any possible jump scares.

Once you finished in the kitchen you cleared away your dishes and made your way out. Turning to your room you saw a trail of what looked like fake blood. But knowing your family there was a high risk it could be real.

Pulling out your gun you ended up in the library surrounded by balloons. “Oh (Y/n).” A voice sang your name when all of a sudden balloons from every angle started to pop. Screaming you dropped your gun and fell to the floor, covering your ears. Once the popping had stopped you felt someone tap your shoulder. Flinching you turned around and was met with the what looked like the clown from IT. “POP!” The clown shouted before chasing after you.

“STOP IT!” Locking yourself in your room you crawled into the corner, hands pulling at your hair.

You soon heard a flapping of wings which didn’t even faze you this time. Castiel ran over to you and soon wrapped his arms around. “You’re safe (Y/n). You’re safe.” Once you finally calmed down you pulled anyway and smiled slightly at Cas. “(Y/n) I have something to tell you. All that stuff out there with the balloons and the clown was Sam and Dean.”

Your heart sank. Yeah your brothers didn’t really understand but with the balloons popping, falling to the floor. You would of thought they would of stopped. “Can you get them please? Tell who ever had the clown make-up on to take it off before they come in.” Castiel nodded, giving you a kiss on your forehead he went out and got your brothers.

It took a while but eventually you managed to get your brothers to understand what they did wasn’t funny. As you told your brothers and Cas about how easily you got scared the more guilty Sam and Dean got.

“Kiddo, we had no idea just-we’re so sorry.“ Dean says pulling you into a hug, which you accepted. “I mean it. Me and Sammy thought it would just be a laugh you know after yesterday”

“Cas you were right. Something wasn’t right with (Y/n) yesterday, we should of listened.” Sam gave you a hug after Dean pulled away. “If it makes you feel any better I had to change my pants when I saw Dean with all the clown make-up on for the first time.”

Letting out a small laugh you shook your head and smirked at your brothers. “This isn’t over boys.” Making your way towards the door with Castiel you turned back and saw utter fear in their eyes.

“This is only just the beginning.“

All’s Fair

steggyweek2k17 - day two (crossover/au)

Peggy invites Steve to join a high-stakes, very serious Avengers training session. Steve has a Plan.

(Based on this post / read on ao3)

The vest is too tight, and Steve is sure this is an omen, a sign that this exercise can only end badly.

He looks over to the other team, where Peggy chats quietly with Thor, swinging the oversized gun on its string like it’s nothing. Her hair is tightly braided, as always, and the vest sits perfectly on her shoulders like it’s part of her normal uniform.

“Okay, team,” Tony says, calling Steve’s attention back to the huddle comprised of half of the Avengers. “Cap’s team has been undefeated for years, but that streak ends today! You all know Agent 13, of course.”  

Steve nods at the team, each of whom is wearing a similar vest and toting a laser gun like his own.  

“Steve here is our secret weapon,” Tony continues, goatee twitching as he smirks. “His mission is to keep Cap out of the way while we wreak havoc on the rest of the team. After the last time, we decided that removing her from the equation was our best hope.”

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Cinders - Chapter 4/36

Originally posted by lmmortalnova

All Chapters

SUMMARY: Introducing Jeremy, a man so grateful that you saved his life that he’s taken it upon himself to follow you up a hill, only to sit awkwardly far away. 

WC: 2205

Wandering through the dim, decaying back streets of Los Santos gives you a chance to breathe and run off the unresting ache in your leg. Taking in a sharp inhale of air, you bring with it the stale cigarette smoke that encases the city’s night life. The back ways were always quieter, doused in the faint glow of the neon signs adorning the strip clubs and dusting your skin; the homeless littering the small nooks between stores. 

You fall back into the routine you’d created for yourself since being stranded, seeking refuge on the streets after being ripped violently from sleep by intense fear and panic. The nightmares are a staple in your life, almost like a nightly obligation; an appointment you just couldn’t miss. Each night was the same as you silently sneaking out of the apartment - careful to refrain from stirring a slumbering Ray that slouched across the couch with the TV flickering – and moving onto the streets with a heavy sigh of relief.

The night is gentle, warm and incredibly comfortable for summer; despite the humidity that hangs in your hair. Rather than complaining, the opportunity to wear shorts without drawing attention to your cybernetic leg is enticing, and you’re grateful to avoid the looks of distaste and pity that surround its public appearances. Looping your fingers through the gun holsters fastened to your upper thighs, you let your body move forward, thanking the soft, warm air as it tickles across your bare shoulders. 

Titling your head back you take in the sky, cloudless and clean, too pure for the smog of the city to touch and taint. Tranquility had become difficult to come by, and you could only hope those you cared about were experiencing the same level of peace that had taken over your being.You stray towards the grassy hills instinctively, each step you take putting you further away from the streets and closer to absolute serenity. 

You barely notice the sound of labored breathing and the accompanying footsteps coming up behind you, too lost in the moment to attune yourself to sounds so common in Los Santos. The sound of a scuffle ringing out, however, had you spinning to face the way you had come , a gun raised steadily in your hand. A man barrels past you without hesitation, no more than a flash of purple as he moves to scamper around a sharp corner. You hear him slip against the street before watching as his head pokes around the wall, looking at you with shock. 

“Well?” he demands as you continue to stare at him, lowering your gun slightly. He lets out a small squeak as two other men round the corner, ambling forward while dragging their softball bats across the floor with the shrill screeching of angled metal. “Where are you, rat?!” one demands furiously, and you take cover in the shadows, slipping your gun back into its holster to allow for immediate movement when required.

The larger of the two tilts his head back, rolling it across his shoulders as a cascade of cracks and pops fill the space, setting your teeth on edge. Creeping backwards, you make for the other man, attempting to avoid detection; then your foot nudges a glass bottle noisily. Silence rushes through the alleyway as the men lock eyes with their target across the expanse scattered with filth, sneers twisting their features into vicious masks. 

“The fuck?!” demands the man behind you, clearly irritated.
“There you are” snarl’s the man on the right, picking up his bat and spinning it in his hand threateningly. As they draw closer they are able to notice you huddled in the shadows, seemingly unarmed, with the smaller of the two turning his attention to you with a leer. “You brought us a pet!” he spits in delight, approaching you “Oh, you shouldn’t have”. 

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