probably should have checked

Catching the Bat’s heart - Bruce Wayne x reader

I’m hopeless, I have too much love for Bruce…So I’m writing yet another thing with him. Don’t hate me. Worst, this is kinda long. Besides, sorry for any grammar mistakes, I’m French and have a bad tendency to never proof read anything…

Summary : The reader is quite a bit younger than Bruce, and thinks she’s just yet another one night stand…She’s completely wrong.

Warnings : mentions of sex…slightly NSFW. Langage. Age gap,  I guess ?

(My master list, by the way : Right here )


If a few months ago, someone would have told you you were going to be invited by Bruce Wayne to a charity ball, you probably would have laughed in their face and told them they should check themselves in Arkham Asylum. And yet, here you were, on your fifth dates with the famous womanizer. You always had a thing for older men. Always. And against your better judgement, even knowing his reputation, you let Bruce Wayne come into your life. Worst, you let him shamelessly flirt with you. And you flirted back…In your head, every warning sign was flashing bright red, telling you you were going to get hurt. But you couldn’t help it. The man was smart, funny, handsome, and you were sure there was more to him than the public playboy figure he showed…

In fact, you KNEW there was more to him. Even though you had big confidence issues, you knew you were somewhat intelligent, and you always picked up on small details. You had absolutely no doubt that billionaire Bruce Wayne…Was the Batman. It just all made sense. He had the motive, the money, the physique, He often disappeared and re-appeared out of nowhere…You just knew it was him. That’s actually what convinced you to let him come that close to you. You knew he often had one night stands with models, or any good looking girl really. You knew he clearly didn’t want to get attached at all. But you also knew that behind all of this facade, there was a guy so broken by his parents’ death he decided to dress as a bat at night to fight crime. Like, come on, that alone made you very curious. And, since he kept coming to you, kept inviting you out…Your hopes started to get up, and you scolded yourself for it…But you couldn’t fucking help it.

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Season 1: Episode 20 – Innocents of Ryloth

Obi Wan handing Numa to Waxer

A silent but understanding exchange. 

It’s these kinds of details that kill me.

Edit: Thanks @fandumbandflummery!

Terrible Ideas (Bones x Reader)

Contains Kirk friendship

Your relationship with Bones was no secret. It was a source of endless teasing from your crewmates, namely Kirk.

You and him were messing around with your phasers, you’d found a way to get the beam to bounce. In hindsight, you probably should have checked to be sure your phasers were set to the lowest setting, but this thought hadn’t occurred to you until a wayward beam caught you in the leg.

You cried out as you went down, clutching the area where you’d been hit.

“Shit, (Y/N)!” Jim cursed as he rushed over to make sure the injury was nothing too serious.

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice slightly strained. “Just get me to sickbay, yeah?”

“Bones is gonna kill me!” Jim exclaimed, burying his face in his hands.

“That’s nice, but I can’t really get there myself. You can write your last will and testament on the way,” you quipped, gritting your teeth at the sting that racked through your left leg.

He sighed before helping you up and slinging your arm over his shoulder.

Slowly, you made your way over to sickbay.

“Jim, what the hell?” You heard your boyfriend shout before you even processed that the doors had opened.

“It’s fine, Leo,” you tried to calm him down.

“Fine? Are you freaking crazy? There’s a hole in your leg!” He insisted, gesturing to the wound.

“I’m sorry, is this coming from the man who told me to stop being so melodramatic after I was dead?” Jim said, quirking his brow.

“Mostly dead,” Bones corrected. “And that’s not the point.” He quickly guided you over to a station, scanning your wound with a tricorder. “How did this happen anyway?”

Jim started to explain. “Well, we found out how to get phaser beams to bounce and-”

“And must have sounded like a wonderful, safe, foolproof idea, right?” Bones remarked dryly.

“Well, no, but… Anyway, it started as a game, but she got hurt.”

“Of course she did,” Bones said, finishing up treating the wound, then swatted his arms in Jim’s direction. “Out, out! Consider yourself temporarily banished.”

Jim sighed in relief, glad that he had avoided the smackdown of the century.

“Don’t think this is over!” He heard Bones call after him. He gulped and proceeded to speedwalk out of sickbay.

Bones then turned to you. “I’m pretty sure you know what I’m about to say.”

“That was incredibly dangerous, don’t do anything that stupid again, I thought I raised you better,” you said, in your best ‘Leonard McCoy, Angry Southerner Extraordinaire’ voice.

“Damn straight,” he smirked, sitting next to you on the examination table. He pulled you into his side and kissed your temple. He trailed kisses down your cheek until he reached the corner of your mouth.

You turned your head slightly and met his lips full on, your hands going to his chest.

When you pulled away, you smirked up at him. “This will never work out,” you teased.

“Excuse me?” Leonard said incredulously.

“If this is how it ends, I’m going to be tempted to do stupid things all the time.”

Not How I'd Imagined - Part 2

Here it is! Part 2 of the Tim x Reader soulmate series. Hope you guys like it, tell me what you think!

Part 1

Tagging: @jadedhillon


Thankfully the elevator in the lobby was working for once, so you didn’t have to worry about dragging Tim up five flights of stairs. Every time you thought his real name the unlikelihood of the situation hit you again; the fangirl inside of you was squealing right now. The receptionist barely spared you a glance as you shuffled past; living in this neighbourhood it probably wasn’t the strangest thing she’d seen tonight. She was most likely just glad that you were quiet and keeping to yourselves. In the elevator Tim slumped up against the metal wall. You noticed with mild alarm that his breathing was starting to sound laboured. A quick glance up at his face confirmed this; his jaw was set in a grimace of pain, although you could tell that he was trying not to let it show. When he caught you looking his lips quirked up in a slight smile. Despite yourself you blushed, quickly averting your eyes to the floor. You weren’t sure where this sudden shyness had come from; you’d been yelling at him less than an hour ago. Thankfully the elevator ‘pinged’ then and the doors slid open, sparing you from your embarrassment.

You guided Tim down the hallway to your door, fumbling for a second to get your key out and unlock it with one arm wrapped around Tim to keep him upright. Once you were in you flipped on the lightswitch and swept your eyes over the kitchen. Luckily it seemed that your roomate hadn’t come home today, as the room seemed to be pretty much as you’d left it. You didn’t dislike the other girl; as roomates went you could have done a lot worse, and you coexisted in relative ease. It helped that she was rarely home, she was the kind of person who was always invited to something or other, and never turned down an opportunity to go out. You were just glad she never decided to bring the party home with her. It was particularly fortunate tonight as you didn’t have to make up an excuse for bringing Red Robin into your apartment.

It was a relief to finally get Tim onto the sofa. He slumped into the seat with a quiet groan, hand going instinctively to his ribs. You winced sympathetically. “Hang on, I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” He nodded, and you could feel his eyes on you as you went to rummage around in the cupboard under the sink. It took a couple minutes to locate it as you hadn’t had cause to use it since you’d moved in. On the upside that also meant that it was fully stocked. You were so glad your parents had persuaded you to take a first aid course last year, otherwise you’d have no idea how to help him. As it was you were still a little nervous as you knelt down by his knees, placing the first aid to kit on the floor and flipping open the lid. Tim didn’t bother questioning whether or not you knew what you were doing; you could hear the rustle of material as he struggled to free himself from the confines of his tunic. “Will Nightwing be able to find you here?” You asked partially to distract him from the pain, but mostly because you were curious. You had always wondered how they managed to show up just at the right time to help each other out, you figured they probably had some way of communicating that the public wasn’t aware of. Your suspicions were confirmed when he answered. “Yeah, there’s a tracker in my earpiece. He’ll come pick me up when he’s done, I hope,” “You hope?” You pulled out an elastic ace bandage with a triumphant “Ah-ha!” Tim laughed wryly. “Well, out of the three of my brothers he’s the most likely to try. But I like to think that nothing’s guaranteed in our line of work,”

That comment threw you. “Wait, your brothers?” You looked up at him in puzzlement, and gasped. While you’d been rummaging around for supplies Tim had taken off his mask, revealing the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen. But that wasn’t what had shocked you. You recognised that face. It was printed on every business and social magazine in Gotham at least once a month. “You’re Tim Drake!” It was more of an accusation than a statement. He just gave you a tiny nervous grin, and you suddenly felt a little dizzy. “Ohmygod. What is even happening,” You shook your head to clear it. “Wow. So does that mean the others…?” Tim nodded. “Yep. Nightwing is Dick, Red Hood is Jason, and Robin is Damian. And Batman is Bruce, obviously.” He paused, “I probably should have double checked it was okay to tell you that, but oh well,” he shrugged, then winced. It reminded you suddenly of what you were meant to be doing, as opposed to sitting there and gaping at him like an idiot.

Tim had already freed himself from the top half of his suit, so you had a clear view of his injuries. There were a few minor cuts and bruises, but his ribs were by far the worst. They were already swollen and purple looking, backing up your theory that they were probably fractured. “Do you think you can sit forward a little?” Tim complied, wincing when you started to wrap the bandage around his torso. You tried hard to focus on the task at hand, and not on the fact that you were currently about three inches away from Red Robin’s chest. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shaking of your hands. When you were done you handed him the ice pack you had grabbed from the fridge on your way back, along with a couple of pain-relief tablets. “Thanks,” he mumbled, swallowing the pills dry and then holding the icepack gingerly to his ribcage. You nodded, proceeding to grab the antiseptic to treat the rest of his injuries.

Despite the distraction your mind was racing. “I still can’t believe it… I mean, wow,” You didn’t know if you were talking to him or yourself. “Probably a lot more than you bargained for right?” Tim sounded apologetic and you rushed to correct him. “No! I mean, I love you guys!” Your cheeks lit up. “I mean, um. The work you do, and stuff, I’m a big fan,” You felt like such an idiot. He laughed warmly, dropping his head back on the sofa cushions and smiling at you. You realized belatedly that he must be exhausted. “Good, cause you’re gonna need to if you’re going to put up with us… if you want to that is,” Tentatively you reached out and took his hand where it rested on the cushions. “I want to,” you promised. He squeezed your hand, letting his eyes fall closed contentedly. His expression was almost peaceful now, you guessed that the medicine was starting to kick in. You made to pull away so you could finish putting your stuff away and grab him a blanket, but were cut short when he whined in complaint, tightening his hold on your hand. You looked back to find him giving giving you puppy dog eyes; making it virtually impossible to say no to him. You giggled. “Just let me go get a blanket, I’ll be back in two seconds,” He released you reluctantly and you hurried to the linen closet, anxious to keep your promise. You still couldn’t believe that this was happening to you, it was like something out of a dream.

When you returned Tim was already half asleep. You took the icepack from him gently, settling in beside him and draping the blanket over the both of you. Normally you would never be this comfortable with someone you had just met, but with Tim it just felt different. Maybe it was because he was your soulmate (your stomach did a little flip at the idea), or maybe it was just because he had been leaning on you for the journey here anyway, you weren’t sure. Whatever the reason, it felt completely natural to have Tim reach for your hand under the blankets and lean in to rest his head on your shoulder.
That was how Dick found you when he climbed through your window later that night, both of you fast asleep together on the sofa, the lights still on. Needless to say he was more than a little confused. Tim had a lot of explaining to do.


“Is he dead?”

Lucy Wieder’s shaky question snaps Scully back to herself, and she walks over to crouch by Peattie. She can feel a pulse, but it’s thready. Her shot may have missed his heart, but he still has a major chest wound, and all she has to work with is a basic first aid kit.

“He’s alive for now, but I don’t know if he’ll survive long enough to get him out of here. We’re at least 50 miles from the nearest hospital.”

“There’s an ambulance coming right behind me,” Mulder says quietly. “I had them send one just in case.”

She gives him a look that tries to convey Thank you and I love you and Way to plan ahead, you brilliant man all at once. The subtle, knowing smile he gives her back says he read her loud and clear.

“Okay then. I need to put pressure on this. Mulder, can you hand me that blanket? And Doctor Wieder? How about you, are you all right?”

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Contingency Plan

the fuck kind of onomatopoeia am i supposed to use. i ended up with beep. it’s just not a menacing onomatopoeia.

i sent this to the wonderful person who offered to beta for me but i’m awful and didn’t actually give them time to do what they offered to do before i posted this so i may tweak somethings as it comes around.

3k words

warnings: uh. fire? is that a warning/ we’re going with it but it is a bit angsty at the end.

what am i doing? i dont know. was this requested? no am i floundering? yes




Your mind was hazy as you sat up in bed, trying to figure out what woke you. Beep. You rubbed at your eyes to try to expedite the process of comprehending the intrusion on your sleep but all you got was a whiff of smoke when you tried to inhale which immediately sent you scrambling out of bed. Beep.

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Shortly after the dog died, all of the birds died too.  All thirty of them just dropped dead on the same day within a 3-hour span.  Looking back, we probably should have checked the yard for chemicals, but this might’ve been before chemicals.

“We should consolidate if we can,” said Dad, his reasoning being that he had just laid down sod and preferred not to dig thirty-one holes in the yard.

“Plus we need the shoe boxes for Christmas presents,” he added. “Not bird coffins.”

“Fine,” said Mom, still dabbing at tears.  "I just don’t see why we have to do this now.“

"I still have the box from the basement TV,” said Dad.  "It’s the perfect coffin!“

But it wasn’t the perfect coffin; at least not at first.  

Dad spent the rest of that afternoon in the backyard, trying and failing to stuff every deceased animal into the one cardboard box.  It was too horrifying for the younger children to see, but just fascinating enough for the rest of us to gather around the kitchen window, watching.  

He started by putting the dog in first and then using the dead birds to fill in the empty spaces kind of like packing peanuts, but the box filled up fast and Dad was left with a pile of about five birds.  He sat and stared at the pile for about a minute before glancing back at the window and when he saw us watching him, our father seemed genuinely surprised.  He smiled weakly, but in that one moment of uncomfortable eye contact, it was clear that Dad had come to grips with one very important truth:  We would count the birds and so by god, they had better all be in there. He threw us a guilty wave and then tipped the box over to try again.

As the afternoon wore on, we held our places, observing as Dad grew increasingly frustrated at the futility of his efforts.  He cursed, he punched the box and then he kicked it.  At one point he even karate chopped the dog and I had to tell my crying siblings that the angle had played a trick on us; that dad had karate chopped the patch of grass next to the dog, but I could tell they didn’t believe me and I felt like a coward.

But it wasn’t until Dad began trying to physically manipulate the shape of the dog’s body, that I decided enough was enough.  

"Let’s go,” I said. “He’ll figure it out, but we should go.”

And that’s how we left it: Dad lying sideways in the yard, spooning the dead dog, and using his 240-pound frame to force the corpse into the fetal position.

“Finished!” said Dad proudly when he came in for dinner.

“Don’t bring that box in here!” Mom screamed.

“I’m just showing them!”

“Take it outside!”

“I will, but look!”

And we did, but what we saw made no sense.

“Where are the birds?” I asked, but as soon as I did so, my eyes took note of the bulging veins in my father’s forearms and it all made sense.

“Oh no…”

He explained that the birds had actually fit quite naturally into the dog’s mouth, making the act of stuffing the body full of dead birds surprisingly graceful.

“It was like nature, I think.”

“Get out,” said Mom.

She grabbed his arm to yank him towards the door, which caused him to drop the box and when it hit the ground, the dog jolted.  We froze.  And then the dog jolted again.

“He’s alive,” my sister screamed!  "He’s not dead!“

But he was dead.  The birds, however, were not.

After the crying and hysteria had cooled down a bit, Dad pulled me aside to discuss his next move.

"I guess I could hit him with a shovel.  You know, until they’re all dead.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I was just kidding,” Dad lied.

And just like that, he decided that the best thing he could do as a father was to give his family one more day with their dog.  Sure, it wouldn’t be the version of our pet who had been able to respond to various vocal commands, but was it so insane to think that maybe, just maybe the birds couldn’t provide the illusion that the dog was still alive?  The answer was yes.

As the birds tried to free themselves, they sent the dog careening around the yard like a pinball.  He ran into fences and even steamrolled a few of the saplings we’d planted for Arbor Day.

“Bad dog!” Dad scolded.

A few weeks later, we found out that Dad had been dead for over twenty years and was existing in the form of a soulless entity.

baker151910  asked:

"Baker, did you leave your hotel room open?"

They’re walking down the hall of the hotel, her raspy laughter echoing off the walls, leftover pizza in her hand and a smile on her face.

“What?” She asks, walking behind Mike having fallen behind when he’d admitted he liked to drink milk with his pizza, the distaste on her face having turned into a fit of giggles to his frowning grin.

“Your door is open,” he says, completely serious, holding out his arm for her to stop behind him.

She freezes, backing herself up against the wall, as he makes his way to the doorframe, checking to see if anyone is in there.  Her hands start to sweat, the box of food feeling heavy to her all of a sudden.  The once steady beat of her heart begins to pound, as if a jackhammer is in the chest, beads of sweat forming on her chest.

His voice doesn’t even register until he’s hovering over her, having sunk to the ground at some point.  He’s kneeling with a groan as his knees crack, but his hands come to rest on her knees, her sad, pleading eyes begging him to help.

“Ginny,” he says, calmly, but his eyes suggest to her her current state is one he’s unaccustomed to.  The invasion not only of her open doored hotel room, but the vulnerability in the breakdown she was having.

Her hand is on her chest, having abandoned the box, pushing tightly against the bone, trying to contain the erratic beating that pulses in her ears.

“Breathe, Gin.  In,” he mimics, breathing along with her.  “Out.  There you go,” he coaches, keeping in time with the steady weight of his hands.

They stay there for several minutes, breathing in time with each other, his heavy breath, and her faint gasps, steadying to one single, strong exhale, her heart eventually syncopating with his own to where she no longer feels the panic coursing through her.

“You okay?” He asks, having never moved from in front of her, his palms balancing his weight on her knees.

She nods, not trusting her voice in that moment.

His hand hesitantly reaches out, as if debating with itself before pushing the fallen curls out of her face, and collapsing into a sit.

“Hope you didn’t hurt your knees, old man,” she rasps out with a sad smile.

“Eh,” he smirks.  “These old bones can take a beating.”

“Good to know,” she sighs.

“So uhh, your hotel,” he motions with his thumb to the door next to them on the wall.

“How bad is it?” She cringes, waiting to hear everything she owns is gone.

“It doesn’t appear anything is gone, you probably just forgot to close your door…”

“Wait, really?” She says, moving to stand up, wobbly legs underneath have her leaning on the wall.

“You should probably check yourself, but it doesn’t seem like anything was touched,” he reassures her.

“So I just…great,” she sighs, bringing her forehead to the wall in frustration.

“Does that happen often?” He asks, slowly moving to stand with her.  “The panic attacks, I mean.”

“Why?  You think they make me weak?” She immediately becomes defensive, wrapping herself up in her hoodie.

“Nope,” he admits with a grin, stroking his beard.  “Shit, if anything, I think you’re even stronger for dealing with that along with everything else.”

His statement, has her balking for a second, before a dimpled smile peeks out.

“You’re human, Baker.  I never thought otherwise.”

This time when her heart starts beating erratically, she knows it’s not so much panic, but the heat from her cheeks at a sentiment that she was inevitably falling further for the guy who always seemed to be there for her in one way or another.

“Thanks,” she says with a shrug.  “But I still think you’re weird for drinking milk with pizza,” she says with a visible cringe.

“I had beer with my pizza,” he challenges.

“But if you were home, eating pizza by yourself…” she baits.

“By myself, where I wouldn’t have to hear you talk shit about it, yeah, I’d have milk,” he admits.

“See, that.  That’s not right,” she says, bumping his shoulder.

“Just grab your pizza and get in here,” he motions towards the abandoned box.

He stands in the doorway waiting for her, and as she passes she stops, meeting his eyes.

“But really, thank you,” she says with a bite of her lip, then walks by him into the hotel, and he follows her in, locking the door behind him.

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask box and I will write the next five sentences.

anonymous asked:

Once at McUgh I was presenting, just handing out food. On the screen it said a hamburger, nothing special about it. I hand it to the customer who drives off but comes back later, and this bitty old woman is shaking and furious at me. Turns out whoever took her order was supposed to ring it up no onions. Here's the kicker, it was for her fucking dog. Who gets their panties in a twist over fast food for their dog? I got the wrath and anger when I had literally done no wrong.

I think certain foods like onion are poisonous for dogs. Onion is probably one of them. She should have checked first. Never. Feed. An. Animal. Anything. You. Haven’t. Looked. At. Or. Prepared. YOURSELF! Mistakes happen ffs. Make sure you’re a responsible pet owner by double checking! -Abby

*EDIT* Yeah I agree with comments being made. fast food is bad enough for people, dogs just as much. -Abby


The weather forecast predicts a 150% chance that this blog is a very big FHQ! AU fan hello

whenever bitty says anything remotely NSFW or inappropriate the Frogs cover their ears and scream “MOOOOM STOOOPP”

Bitty thinks it’s the sweetest most hilarious thing he’s ever seen

they extend it to Jack too, his dry jokes and chirps are met with “Dad PLS”

Touché Finale

Genre: Hitman!au, Hitman Jungkook
Pairing: Reader/Jungkook
Length: 2.2k
A/N: AAAAAND it comes to an end! Thanks for all your lovely messages and words of encouragement, I really appreciated each and every one of them. I really didn’t expect to write a whole series for this, nonetheless 10 parts, but look at where we are. Hope you enjoyed the series my lovelies~

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Finale

Originally posted by jjks

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Welp, I finished Flashpoint. And I just wanted to say that the final instance was, in my humble opinion…


Really solid work on the devs’ part. If you haven’t played it yet…


You should probably consider checking it out when you have the chance. Because Arenanet…


Impressed me a lot with this patch.

anonymous asked:

So stop acting like to know everything about the industry because you don't. And if you did then you'd realise that jen and Darren are in a relationship. You'll block me and try and act like this hasn't bothered you but you know deep don't that all the joshifer stuff you say is fake. Your trying to convince yourself of something that never happened. Have fun blocking me but if I've at least made you see that your ridiculous and sad that I'll be happy. Also get a job your 40 years old!!

You sent me 5 messages. FIVE.

One. Two. Three. Four. FIVE.

Five messages about how I am wrong and I don’t know anything and you know everything and you are right.


This whole message was really just art wrapped in hand wringing and nervousness. You should probably check why someone having a different opinion than you bothers you so much. 

Also, you should have tried to insult me with adding something about taking care of some kids to really drive home your heternormative sexist world view.

Also when I am 40 I will be happy with the knowledge that I never sent anyone some anonymous hate about two celebrities, which is something you will have to live with for the rest of your life. So when you are 40 and doing whatever it is you want to do with your life you’re going to think back on this younger version of yourself and be like jeez who the fuck cares, why did I do that to someone I didn’t know? Why was I such a little asshole to people over something that doesn’t even matter?

Because you have the choice to just move on from a website that has a different opinion than you do. You make the choice to go and try to hurt someone. That says a lot about who you are as a person. But I have faith that you’ll grow as a person and when you are 40 you’ll be a better version of yourself.

You didn’t hurt me, you should really fear 40 year old unemployed people who have access to the internet, they are more resilient than you.

But I hope you have a good day.

Super old Kakashi scenario for my fam @batmanruth that she let me slack on (tysm) but it’s finally done yayyyyyyy. Don’t remember the exact request something like ‘Kakashi getting angry at his s/o after a mission because she jumped to help him when he told them to leave and scolding her’ and angst/fluff(?) proceeds:

Kakashi Hatake

The sun is slipping out of the sky by the time Kakashi is done with reports at the Hokage office. He’s fatigued, he’s starving, but he pushes all those annoyances aside because he needs to see her.

He admits he probably should have kept his temper in check, especially on a mission. It’s not like him to let incidents on duty provoke him to blow up like he did, but he couldn’t help it. How could she be so stupid? How could she ignore everything he had told her?

He’s usually better about these things. The surge of anger that stopped him right in the middle of the battlefield should have been easy to brush off, he should have been able to save the reprimanding for later, but he couldn’t.

As soon as she jumped in front of him he could barely think, and wouldn’t have processed what had even happened if not for his sharingan. That’s what’s even more frustrating, because he should have been the smart one, the careful one. He should have been able to see what was coming. And now because of that, she’s in the hospital. Not only that, but he probably tarnished her reputation in front of their entire squad while chastising her, telling her not to make such stupid, brash decisions, and to stay out of his way.

That’s what troubles him the most, that he lashed out at her. And for what? Sure, she shouldn’t have abandoned her own duty to intervene with his. She should have followed orders and retreated like he told her to, but the battle was rather chaotic anyway, and everyone was all over the place. She was only guilty of looking out for her comrades, looking out for him, and he knows he would have done the same if he had been in her position.

The nurses greet him when he arrives at the medical center, and he doesn’t even need to ask before they direct him to a room at the very end of the hall. He’s never liked the idea of the entire village being informed on his romantic life, though it does come in handy.

He stops outside the door and considers the situation. He hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to say before arriving, he just knew he wanted to be here. And he’s never good at these sort of things, most of his attempts at reconciliation are impromptu, and it’s usually sufficient, but something feels different this time.

Reticently, he sighs, understanding he can only delay this for so long until he caves in. It’s not like this is a bother anyway, he wants to do this. It’s been bothering him ever since they arrived back in the village, he just doesn’t know how to make it better.

He walks in a second later, hands thrust in his pockets, mustering the courage to look her right in the eyes. She’s sitting up in her bed, bandages around her arms, a smaller one over her forehead.

The medic ninjas did quite a good job, she’s nowhere near as bad as she looked when they came back from the mission. He’d heard there were no internal injuries, but that didn’t really matter to him. The fact she was injured at all was enough to overwhelm his frustration with her. He really feels stupid.

“What is it,” she practically spits at him.

Wow, he thinks. Excellent start.

“Well,” he says as he ventures further into the room, “I thought I would come see you.”

“Why? To yell at me again?” she mutters.

As he approaches her side, she looks away from him and out the window. “No, not that.”

She sighs inwardly but doesn’t respond, still refusing to look at him. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Kakashi.”

“Well, that complicates thing.” He ignores the scowl on her face as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Because I want to talk to you.”

She huffs and again averts her gaze. It’s not that she doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, because although he’s not the easiest to forgive—a consequence of his awful attempts at making amends— she knows he’s come to apologize. To the best of his ability, of course.

He really wishes she’d give him something to go off of. There’s a multitude of things she could, and should be upset about, he just doesn’t know what to say first. “You know I only reprimanded you because it was dangerous.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you there, Kakashi.”

“I was your acting captain, and I gave you an order to follow.” He doesn’t like how she’s using his name like that. It’s very telling of her agitation; she only uses it during critical times like this. “I know why you did it, but you shouldn’t have—“

“What’s that thing you told me once, Kakashi? About not abandoning your comrades?”

Well he should have known she’d pull that card on him. And it was true, but it was different when it came to her. She was more than just a comrade, so while he can understand the principle behind his own words, there’s more on the line when it comes to her. “You could have been hurt, _____. More than you were.”

“And you could have too, you could have died.” Well, maybe not. But that’s how she’d seen it. She’d panicked and given it no sensible thought before jumping in to help him. She was just scared.

“And you don’t think you could have either?” His voice takes on a bitter edge. “I knew how dangerous it was, which is the exact reason I ordered you to retreat.”

“I don’t understand why you would berate me like you did! Maybe I didn’t expect a thank you, but I definitely didn’t expect you to blow up on me, and just completely demean me like that.” Her voice is harsh, well above the tolerance she’d retained, or tried to retain, up until now.

He sighs. “I’m sorry for that. I am. You can understand why I was angry, though.”

“You would have done the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

Again, he expected that. And there’s no way he can dispute it. “Yeah, I would have.”

“So don’t pretend like what I did was such a bad thing, Kakashi.”

“It was a bad thing,” he snaps. “It was naïve.”

“Oh, so now I’m naïve? I see.”

“No,” he sighs in frustration. “Your decision. It could have cost you your life, maybe others in the process—“

“But it didn’t!”

“_____,” he speaks her name in earnest, partly to relay the severity of this, partly to discreetly shush her because she’s practically scolding him now. He doesn’t really like the idea of the entire hospital knowing his business, plus the gravity of this dispute is bothering him. He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t like fighting with her. Though a consequence of his own wrongdoings, he’s still going to try to fix this as efficiently and genially as possible. “I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t have acted out if I didn’t have to.”

“And you didn’t have to.”

“No, I did. Because it’s my job as your superior to protect you, to make sure you’re safe. And…” He does feel quite silly saying it, but the disquiet in her eyes is forcing him to cast aside any emotional detachment that keeps him from passion, especially at times like this. “I already can’t forgive myself for almost putting you in danger—more than I already did, I guess. Or more than you did, really.” Her little glare isn’t subsiding. Oops. “All in all, you have to know I did it because I was afraid. Watching you run in there, it scared me.” Just say it, he scolds himself. “You know I didn’t want to lose you out there.”

What a relief, at least he had the conviction to say that much. He could say a dozen other things, more warmhearted, more convincing. He wants to show her how much he cares but of course, the doubt from his own emotions holds him back. He’s just not good at this sort of thing.

That definitely trumps the line of discourse she had prepared for this inevitable squabble. But he makes it so difficult when his feeble and haphazard attempts at making reparations somehow pull her heart strings, and make the tension surrounding this ordeal suddenly seem ridiculous.

“I know. It’s just…” And then more than when he’d chastised her, more than when he’d admonished her in front of the entire squad, there’s an outrage she can’t shake off. “I don’t know why you would even tell us—me to retreat. You know I couldn’t leave you, Kakashi. You know that’s not something I would have been able to do, or live with if something had happened to you.”

And thanks to her, nothing did. He’s sure a few impediments could have been avoided if she hadn’t jumped in so brashly, but she’d provided a distraction—not a very calculated one—which served as their means to escape. So while the grievance is still there, because she had no right to put her life on the line for him, it’s the reason they’re both here.

She rubs her thumb over a dark bruise on her arm. Kakashi’s resolve is unsettled with guilt once again when he realizes that he came out of the battle unscathed. The self-reproach seeps its way into his conscience again and it drives his sentimentality.

“And those are my thoughts exactly, ____. I wasn’t going to risk you getting hurt, you and the rest of the squad. I understand why you did it. So try to understand why I gave you the order in the first place, and why I blew up when you didn’t follow it.”

“Just don’t make me do that again… Don’t scare me like that again.”

Part of him is relieved at the calm in her voice, the lack of tension that had been so prevalent when he walked in. The other part aches because she sounds so grim. He hadn’t meant to impair her peace of mind, though he’s by no means in a pleasant place either now. But he’s willing to overlook her indiscretions as a subordinate in favor of appreciating her sentiment as his lover.

“As long as you don’t scare me like that again,” he says. “I’ll try.”

He’s concerned that it’s not good enough for her, but she smiles. “Why do you always put the blame back on me?”

Even the lighthearted tone is reassuring. “I won’t say it’s because it’s usually your fault… but…” He doesn’t need to finish before she’s frowning, and they’ve regained the ease he so hoped to find by the end of the conversation. However, he knows better than to assume amends have been secured so fast.

“I still don’t know if that’s enough to compensate for how you embarrassed me,” she says. “Can you imagine those guys talking about how mean you are? How unprofessional that was? How dumb I am?”

Truthfully, he has pondered it. It’s not just her, but to lose his composure like he did and reprimand her, not just as a shinobi, but as a significant other—it was probably much more dramatic than he remembers it to be. He’s sure he’ll overhear gossip about it at some point.

“Hmmm while they may be right about that last part, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” He smirks when she makes to punch his shoulder, but she remembers she’s supposed to be bed-ridden and injured. He’s quite enjoying this.

“But I am worried about it, and I want you to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you huh?”

She nods, and he eyes her curiously. It would be easy enough to just resort to more wisecracks to get out of this, but he knows she’s not kidding. He knows he’ll have to atone in some way beyond the sincerity of what he’s said here.

“Like what?” he asks, preparing for something ludicrous and out of his zone of comfort, because what else should he expect?

She says nothing, but the way she pats her lips and makes those little kissy noises is more than enough for him, and he’s shaking his head before she can even blink.

“I don’t think so,” he says as he stands from the bed, inadvertently reaching for his mask and assuring that it’s secure. It’s a bad habit she’s pushed onto him. If they were at home and by themselves, she’d try to reach and tug it down. Now he’s constantly paranoid. Again, everything is always her fault.

“What do you mean?” she gripes. “You owe me that much.”

“Too many people around. Too risky.”

“We’re alone.”

“A shinobi must always remain vigilant.”

She’s frowning again, more like pouting, but with the bandage on her face she doesn’t look very cute, maybe a little threatening, in fact. He’s looking forward to when she gets it off so he can tease her without feeling the sting of guilt every time he sees the wounds. But it’s a slow process, he’s learned. Better not to rush it in hopes that it’ll help ease the tension.

“Where are you going?” she asks as he steps away.

“You shouldn’t be here for too much longer, I don’t think. I think I’ll go finish up some reports in the meantime.” Now the frown is sincere, and he can tell she’s dismayed with how quick he is to retreat from this little skirmish. “What? I still have to make it up to you, right? I’ll need to get my responsibilities out of the way so I’m free for the rest of the night.”

Damn, he’s good at this, even when he’s not trying. She tries to read the connotation in that statement, always so ambiguous, but the wit and promise in his voice is all the same.

“Fine.” She settles back comfortably into her bed. “Just make it quick.”

“Yes ma’am.”

And as he leaves the hospital he’s relieved that it was much easier than he expected, though no less distressed by the fact it happened at all. He knows he’ll have to watch himself next time, even if it’s a difficult resolve to make. When it comes to her, he’s not sure he can keep his own promises. He’d be willing to endure another lecture like that if it meant keeping her safe, anyway.

Bullet Proof- Chapter 8

Hey guys, here is chapter 8. I have now planned out how this fic is gonna end. I have thought about having other multi-chapter fics in this universe and some dabbles. I might do that if people are interested. As always thanks to @jordan202​ for the support and taking time out of her busy life every week to proof read this!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“So Detective Hunt, what are your plans today?”

Owen smiled at Amelia’s suggestive question. Her arms were still around his neck and they were inches apart. “Well Dr. Shepherd, I was planning on making the beautiful woman standing in my bedroom breakfast, and then spend the day getting to know all about her. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds perfect,” she replied inching her head towards his.

He closed the gap between them and captured her lips in a kiss. She opened her mouth allowing him entrance and their tongues battled for control. His hands found their way towards her waist and he pulled her closer, leaving no space between them. Her hands threaded through his hair and he let out a low moan when she rocked her hips against him. One of his hands on her waist roamed upwards and under her top. They both felt a shiver when his hand touched her skin. Amelia’s hands grabbed the collar of his shirt using it to pull him closer. Owen’s hands grabbed the hem of her shirt and he was in the process of pulling it off when a sound broke them out of their trance. It was her cell phone, they both groaned, their moment being ruined.

“Ignore it,” he whispered into her hair. Thankfully she listened to him and resumed their kiss. Unfortunately they were interrupted again by a vibration coming from Owen’s pocket.

“Is that a phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Amelia joked.

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