Misdial; Redial - Billy Russo

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

Content

IMAGINE: On nights like these, private NCIS agent Gibbs would rather be down in his basement working on a project. He wasn’t one to go out to bars or spend all night playing some game online like his coworkers. Tonight, however, thanks to a bit of liquid courage, you show him another way to enjoy the night. WORD COUNT: 767 WARNINGS: Fluff with our favorite hard ass agent, mentions of heavy alcohol intake

Gibbs can’t think of the last time he felt this content. There were moments he’d prefer to hide in his dimly lit basement; working on his projects and sipping on his bourbon.

This time he was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter sipping on tepid coffee he found lying around. It would’ve been a shame to let it go to waste. 

Unfamiliar music played softly in the background, tempting him to shut it off, to enjoy the silence. But from past experience, Gibbs knew that if even tried shutting it off, he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. Instead, he settled for enjoying his rapidly cooling caffeine boost, successfully hiding his grin behind his mug.

There weren’t many things that could convince him to ignore urges like that; his coworkers could count on one hand what could.  

“Are you just going to stand there all night or are you going to join me?” You teased from across the room, slowly swaying along to the music. 

Not even Tony would ever guess that his stone-faced boss would ever be put in his place by a lover. 

“I’m fine with just enjoying the show,” Gibbs replied. 

“You’re no fun, Jethro,” you pouted. Before he could say anything, you swiped up your own mug from the kitchen table, loudly drinking down the contents. You pulled away with a whine, signaling you finished it sooner than you liked. 

“Is that from that bottle Tobias tried bribing me with?” Your boyfriend questioned. “I thought he knew better than that.” 

He pointed to the dark bottle left on the table, squinting to see how much was left in it. 

“Honey.” It wasn’t often that Jethro used pet names, so this sudden use caught you off guard. “That damn thing is almost empty, I think you’ve had enough.”

Maybe that was true. On your second glass, you had spilled some wine on your shirt, prompting you to replace it with one of the oversized navy sweatshirts Jethro kept around. He had yet to comment about you stealing his shirt, but based on his smirk, he didn’t mind. 

“Finish it with me then,” you pleaded. 

“I’ll stick with my joe,” he assured, lifting his mug to prove it.  

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the wine bottle, almost knocking it off the table. It didn’t click in your head how fast Jethro moved; first, he was next to the fridge and now he was by your side holding the bottle you had almost knocked to the floor. 

“Thank you for proving my point,” he grumbled, begrudgingly pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking around for a stopper. 

“I was gonna put it away,” you grumbled back. 

You paid no mind to Jethro’s complaints, choosing instead to slide across the kitchen floor in time with the music. Your sock covered feet drifted smoothly against the linoleum tiling, sending you into the counter that your boyfriend previously occupied. Unfazed by the crash, you gracefully take a seat on said counter, ignoring the fact you almost fell over attempting to do so. 

“Don’t go too crazy there, I’d rather have you in one piece,” Jethro chided. He kept an eye on you as he stuck the bottle in the fridge. Before he could even shut the door properly, you started tugging on his shirt, silently begging him to come closer. 

“What are you doing, huh?” He asked. 

“I wanna dance,” you mumbled. 

“You want to dance?” Jethro repeated. He didn’t bother hiding back a smile this time as he watched you thumb the buttons on his collar. “May I remind you you’re pretty drunk at the moment? Do you think you’re up for the job?” 

Eager to prove him wrong, you hop down from the counter (With Gibbs subtly steadying you) and pull him close. 

“Oh, this means you want to dance with me?” He asked cheekily.  

At this point the music became a softer tune, encouraging Jethro to join you. What else could he do but oblige? 

The two of you began to sway, holding each other close. Neither of you spoke, choosing to simply lean into the other and enjoy the moment. 

Gibbs couldn’t think of the last time he felt this content. Having you here in his arms, not having to worry about Tony and Ziva bickering like children or Timothy getting picked on by said agents. He could just relax in the privacy of his own home with you. 

“Thank you,” he whispered in your ear. 

“For what?” You drowsily teased, feeling the effects of the alcohol slowing hitting you. 

“For being you.” 

HOW TO SURVIVE A HEART ATTACK WHEN ALONE Let’s say it’s 6.15pm and you’re going home (alone of course), after an unusually hard day on the job. You’re really tired, upset and frustrated. Suddenly you start experiencing severe pain in your chest that starts to drag out into your arm and up into your jaw. You are only about five miles from the hospital nearest your home. Unfortunately you don’t know if you’ll be able to make it that far. You have been trained in CPR, but the guy that taught the course did not tell you how to perform it on yourself..!! NOW HOW TO SURVIVE A HEART ATTACK WHEN ALONE… Since many people are alone when they suffer a heart attack, without help, the person whose heart is beating improperly and who begins to feel faint, has only about 10 seconds left before losing consciousness. However, these victims can help themselves by coughing repeatedly and very vigorously. A deep breath should be taken before each cough, and the cough must be deep and prolonged, as when producing sputum from deep inside the chest. A breath and a cough must be repeated about every two seconds without let-up until help arrives, or until the heart is felt to be beating normally again. Deep breaths get oxygen into the lungs and coughing movements squeeze the heart and keep the blood circulating. The squeezing pressure on the heart also helps it regain normal rhythm. In this way, heart attack victims can perhaps buy precious time to get themselves to a phone and dial 911. Rather than sharing another joke please contribute by broadcasting this which can save a person’s life! Be prepared and become part of the solution. Get your free next-of-kin notification card today. Click here: https://www.InCaseOfEmergencyCard.com/

Katryn you had to know this was coming at some point I assume BUT you know we need THAT pledging fealty scene with Tovar 👀👀

I love you for this. Oh boy. Here we go. I'm saving my favorites for the last few days of the prompt week. ICONIC. I loved this scene so much I’ve worked it into Footprints...don’t look at me. This is like 2100 words...IT GOT AWAY FROM ME. @thewaythisis gif credit

Pairing: Tovar x Reader Warnings: mild domestic abuse, language, SMUUUUUT, for those of you who haven't seen Outlander I will try to give you enough context that you're not looking at this like 'WTF KATRYN???' [Completed Prompts] [Tovar Prompt Info]

You hadn't spoken to him in days. Riding in silence with the rest of the company while they moved between tiny towns and worn down villages. A week ago you had tried to escape, back to your own time, back to the fae circle of stones that lay beyond the mountain range in the middle of the desert. Only his majesty’s royal guard had gotten in your way, taken you prisoner, and William and his men had to risk a lot to get you back. You had been so close.

It was easy to see why the rest of the company was mad at you, going silent when you tried to join their circle at meal times, talking in hushed tones as you walked passed. That you could accept. What you couldn’t accept was what happened afterwards.

“Come on,” Tovar said in a gruff tone that he rarely used with you any more. He grabbed your upper arm tightly and turned you towards the stairs of the inn.

“What is it?” you asked, suddenly concerned as the rest of the men watched him march you to the bedroom you shared. He let go of you as soon as the door bolted behind him.

“Now, I take no pleasure in this, hermosa, but it is my duty as your husband,” he said, careful to keep his eyes off of you as he slid his belt off of his waist slowly. The worn leather folded in half easily and he nodded to your legs. “Lift your dress, and let’s get on with it.”

“Wait,” you said, eyes going wide as your heart began to race, You moved to the other side of the bed, putting the large piece of furniture between you and him. “Wait a minute--Pero, I said I was ‘sorry’--”

“I know you did. But that doesn’t matter much. You put all of us in danger and now none of William’s men trust you--”

“Well, that’s not my fault--”

“Hermosa…”

“You think I wanted to get captured?? To put you all in danger to come rescue me??”

“If you would just listen to me, we wouldn’t be in this!” He finally lost a bit of his composure and clenched his fists. “But you never listen! And why should you? You’re just my wife--”

“Your wife? You mean your property!” you spat back at him and moved a few more steps back. “I’m just a woman, is that it? And it doesn’t care what I think as long as I realize that you own me?”

“Do not speak to me that way--”

“You’re a brute! And a fucking sadist--”

“If any of William’s crew did something like that, he would take him out in the courtyard and black his eye, making sure they knew not to do it again. It’s a bit different with you, but maybe you’ll remember every time you sit down--”

“You are not going to put your hands on me, Pero Tovar,” you grit your teeth and pointed at him, moving a step back as he started towards you.

“It’ll be over quick--”

“I’ll scream--”

“Considering you never stop talking, that doesn’t surprise me--”

True to his word, it was over much faster than you thought it would be--but you didn’t make it easy for him. You may have left the room the next morning with a bruised ass and ego, but Tovar left it with a split lip. However, just like he had predicted, the rest of the men’s attitude towards you had changed back to what it used to be. As you wrapped your cloak around your shoulders and came down to breakfast, one of them handed you a bowl of porridge and a hot cup of tea.

“Here, m’lady, have a seat with us.” He offered kindly and you felt your face grow hot.

“I’ll stand, thank you,” you said, feeling your backside sting at the thought of sitting on the wooden stool. A roar of laughter came from the rest of them and you took your breakfast back to your room.  

--

Days later, you sat in your room by the fire, looking into the flames and realizing that although the pain was gone and the bruises faded, you hated Pero Tovar for his actions. And what hurt most of all was that you weren’t sure if you could ever forgive him.

That night you all had some to a halt under the stars and after a quiet meal around the campfire, you retired to your tent alone. When you heard Tovar’s boots approaching, you turned over in your bedroll and pretended to be asleep.

Pero took his time, taking off each piece of his armor and pouring a little water from his canteen into his hand to wash his face. He paused and looked at you and finally let out a heavy sigh. “I know you’re awake, hermosa.”

You didn’t answer him.

“Is this how it’s going to be then?” he asked and you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, feeling like a child. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s new.” Your tone was bitter, angry, and you could see from his shadow on the canvas wall that it made him flinch.

He swallowed hard and rubbed his jaw, ignoring your jab at his intelligence. “Wives obey their husbands.” His voice was calm, speaking slow and plainly like he wanted each word to be understood. “And it’s a husband’s duty to discipline them when they don’t--it was like that for my father and his father and his father before that--” He sat on the edge of the bedroll and looked at you, waiting for you to turn and look over your shoulder at him. “Maybe it has to be different for us?”

You sat up slowly, letting the blanket slip down your shoulders as he leaned over and took the dagger out of the sheath on his armor. He turned to you and held it carefully by the blade, offering you the handle with his head bowed. His intention was unclear, but he moved to one knee as if he was waiting for you to knight him.

“I swear by my dagger,” he took a shaky breath and held it tightly, looking at your lap. “You may think I have no honor as a mercenary, but I swear on all that I have, hermosa, that I will never lay a hand on you again. I give you my loyalty and protection, my trust and my devotion, and if I ever go back on my promise I hope that the blade I hold finds its way through my chest.”

You took the dagger from him gently and looked at it, turning it slowly in your hand before looking back at him. When you were silent for a few moments, he looked up, his face carefully made of stone, but his eyes were worried.

“Do you not want me anymore, corazón?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you wish to live apart?”

“That should be what I want…” you said, tone matching his in the dark of the tent. “But it’s not.” You reached forward and cupped his face, rubbing your thumb along his bearded jaw. At your touch he let out a shaky breath and turned his head in your hand to kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed quietly. He kissed his way up your wrist, then your arm, whispering his apologies and sweet nothings across your skin as he made his way to your lips and crawled onto the furs with you. “I want you. I want you so badly I can barely breathe,” he admitted and you felt yourself break out in goosebumps. “Will you have me? Will you have me, mi corazón?”

“Yes,” you whispered against his mouth as you pushed his shirt from his shoulders. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

He pulled your shift over your head in one fluid motion. His rough hands gripped at your soft body as he kicked off his trousers and tried to lay you back but you put your hands firmly on his chest. He allowed you to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. You kissed him hard, tongue tasting and teeth biting as you felt him start to harden under you, raising to your knees so he could reach between your bodies and line himself up.

As much as you were reluctant to admit it, you truly had missed him these last few days. Having him inside of you once again was a comfort to both of you that you hadn’t realized had become so important. Falling through time felt like eons ago, instead of the few short weeks it had been, but having Tovar in your arms felt like you had waited for one another for millennia.  

He groaned as he bottomed out inside of you and threw your head back in ecstasy. His fingers dug into your hips as you started to rock against him and you looked down. The dagger had fallen off to the side and you leaned over grabbing it by the handle only to shove it up against his throat. You didn’t press, it wasn’t harming him in any way, but the cold steel made him pause his thrusts and look up at you with wide eyes.

“Hermosa?” he asked, swallowing hard and eyeing the blade before looking up at you in awe.

“Listen to me carefully, Pero Tovar,” you said, using his full name as you started to gently roll your hips against him. You panted as your heart raced and the nails of your free hand dug into his chest. “If you ever put a hand on me again, this dagger won’t pierce your chest on it’s own--I’ll cut your heart out myself. Do you understand?”

He let out a heavy breath as he thrust up inside of you and nodded.

“I didn’t hear that,” you said, moving the blade just enough to make him hiss.

“Yes,” he looked up at you and his eyes were ablaze with more passion than you think you had ever seen from him. “Yes I understand.” He growled as you tossed the dagger to the side and allowed him to roll you onto your back and thrust hard against you. “You’re still mine, hermosa?” he said, as he leaned down to kiss and bite at your neck.

“Yes…” You put your hands in his hair and gripped it. The feeling of his cock hitting the end of you was enough to make you arch against him with a groan. When he leaned down to take as much of your breast into his mouth as he could and suck firmly at your nipple, you whispered lovingly against the shell of his ear. “And you are mine.”

--

Tovar’s arm tightened around you gently and you hummed happily as he nibbled the spot under your ear. His breath was warm against your skin and you pressed yourself back tightly against him, seeking the warmth of his body in the chilly night air.

“What’s a sadist?” he asked quietly.

“What?” you laughed and looked over your shoulder at him.

“You called me a ‘fucking sadist’?” he said with a grin and rested his chin on your arm.

“Oh,” you giggled and laid your head back on the pillow. “It means someone who gains sexual pleasure from harming others.”

“You don’t think very highly of me, do you?” he chuckled, releasing his grip enough so you could turn in his arms. “Can’t say I blame you. I was a bit of a brute.”

You touched his face gently, tracing his jaw, then down along his bottom lip and finally to the dimple of his chin. He closed his eyes gently and pulled you closer. You paused your ministrations when you noticed a rather large mark on where his neck met his shoulders--you’d left a pretty prominent hickey on his tanned skin.

“Was I too rough?” you asked and he ginned, already knowing without looking what you were talking about.

“No,” he huffed. “When you bed a vixen, you expect to be bitten.”

“A vixen?” you asked with a laugh as he leaned in and nosed your chin up so he could nip at your own neck. “Pero!”

“Come here and bite me some more,” he said, delighting in the way the feel of his mustache made you continue to laugh. For the rest of his days, or as long as you would let him, he vowed to only make the sweetest of sounds come from your lips.

--

No but to be serious guys i didnt expect that movie to be that kind of good. I expected great fights. I expected complicated morals. I did not expect that movie to say i know everything seems hopeless but you dont get a choice, you have to try. I did not expect that movie to say when we are up against an impossible, unjust threat the only way through is freely given kindness and forgiveness. I did not expext that movie to say the real way villans win is by preying on those we’ve already decided are hopeless. I did not expect that movie to say we all have to believe we can get better. Please believe me we can all get better. Oh my god.

Save Me

IMAGINE: You and Bruce had always had your ups and downs, but hey, if you were dating Batman, wouldn’t you? But, the two of you hit a major rough patch, one that forced you to leave. It’s difficult to get over him, but hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day. How hard could it be? WORD COUNT: 2.7k

Batman.

Everyone knew who he was. The Dark Knight of Gotham City. He was their official/unofficial protector. He was loved by some and hated by others.

Bruce Wayne.

He was almost just as popular as the dark crusader. But just as hated. To some, he was just as heartless as the devil.

Combined, you knew them as your boyfriend. Yeah, your boyfriend. You knew the billionaire's habit of dressing up at night and fighting criminals. Nothing about it really bothered you. Only the nights he came home with awful looking wounds.

Other than his dark counterpart and his billionaire persona, you loved Bruce just the same. Underneath that tough exterior was a man in need of love. And you were the perfect person to supply it.

Or so you thought.

It all ended on a cloudy night. Gotham was quiet, as if it too knew what was to come. That didn't stop a handful of idiots attempting to break into Wayne Industries. As Bruce left to deal with them, you had given him a kiss for luck.

That would be the last kiss you would have given him in a long time.

"Hey Bruce," you greet the billionaire as he entered the kitchen. You quickly grabbed a mug of coffee you prepared for your boyfriend and held it out. "How did it go?"

Ignoring your offering, Bruce carefully made his way around you. "That bad?" With a small grunt, you watch him slink down the hallway. Setting the cup down and follow him. "What happened?" You ask him again, walking into your shared bedroom.

Another damn grunt. Whatever happened definitely reached a sore spot.

With a small huff, you sit down next to Bruce on the bed. He flinches at the closeness. Hiding your hurt, you grab his hand. As you run your thumb across his calloused palm, you lean against him.

"Don't do this to me," you plead quietly.

Bruce had a thing. Sometimes when being Batman got too rough, he would shut everything out to control himself. You would be pushed away until he dealt with whatever problem he had.

"I have no choice," Bruce replied roughly, surprising you. He would never talk to you during his moods.

"We always have a choice," you tell him. "They're not always the best, but we all have decisions to make."

"You're right," your boyfriend agreed. He stood silent, seeming almost content being with you. The silence of the room is almost soothing.

"I can't do this anymore," Bruce suddenly stated.

The words made you freeze. What was he talking about? You had an idea, but kept your mouth shut.

"I thought I could keep this up," he went on. "I don't know what I was thinking when this started, but now I know what to do."

Bruce gently pushes your hand off of his and stands up. You don't even bother to look up as he sighs. "We both knew this day was going to come," he said.

When you don't reply, he sighs louder. "With you in my life, I won't have time to be Batman. This is for the best."

"Is it?" You suddenly ask. Momentarily taken aback by your shaky voice, you steel yourself. "Is it best for you or the people?"

"Don't do this Y/N," Bruce quietly pleaded. It was bad enough he waited this long to tell you. "Let's not make this harder than it should be."

"I'm not the one making this harder. It's you!" You claimed standing up. "Stop lying to me and tell the truth!"

"What more do you want me to say?" Bruce demanded. "What do I need to say that hasn't already been said?"

"Tell me why you want me to leave," you responded, your tone matching his. "You've had other opportunities to get rid of me, but you never did. So why now? What broke you?"

Nothing. He said nothing.

You spent hours, days even, crying over the billionaire as you wondered if he would come back home safe. Sometimes Bruce would return and be surprised that you were even there to greet him. He wanted you to go so badly so you wouldn't have to see him like this, but he was glad you hadn't left.

What changed?

Deciding you didn't want an answer, you turn to the closet and start rummaging through it. Seconds later, you emerge with a large duffel bag. It's filled to the brim with clothes you had packed beforehand.

Storming to the bathroom, you grab another bag from underneath the sink and fill it with your things. "So you've prepared for this?" Bruce asked quietly. It broke his heart when you refused to look at him. But he knew it was for the best.

"Not for this scenario, no," you quickly reply. "But I'm glad I had it, anyway."

The soft sound of clinking metal caught the billionaire's attention quickly. He saw you slipping off the necklace you wore.

"It's yours. Take it," Bruce told you. It shocked him when you shook your head.

"It'll only make it worse."

You gave the chain one last squeeze before you placed it on the dresser. The ring resting on the metal links glistened in the soft light as you tried fighting back your tears.

"Goodbye Bruce," you tell him. It hurts, but you know it's what you have to say. It was for the best.

The hero watches as you leave the room but says nothing. He knows that if he utters a single word, he'd start begging you to stay. But it doesn't stop him from taking a last look.

A Few Months Later...

"How are you holding up Y/N?"

Whoever asked had to repeat it several more times before you snapped out of your daze.

"Did you say something?" You ask your friend. (Male Friend's Name) shakes his head as he takes the crystal flute from your hand and replaced it with a full glass.

"I thought you weren't drinking," he jested quietly as a waiter calmly took the cup from him. Nodding his head in thanks, he (Male Friend) pulled you closer.

"You're not all here, are you?" He asked you softly. He knew the pain you were going through. He sat there by your side as you cried out for the man who left you. It broke (Friend) to see you so out of it.

"Not exactly," you reply quietly. You fiddle with your bracelets as you keep your eyes on the floor. "How did I let you convince me to come to this... Thing?"

(Male Friend) had begged you to join him to a charity ball that was being held in the heart of Gotham City. Since he was an officer of the law, he was officially invited with the rest of his brethren. They also gave him an extra invitation, and he passed it on to you.

(Male Friend) practically got on his knees just to get you to come with him. He knew that you had gone to events like these in the past with Bruce. If it wasn't for the billionaire, you wouldn't have even wasted a thought on a ball.

But since the breakup, you didn't really go out much. (Male Friend) jumped at the opportunity of the charity event, seeing it would get you out of the house. You reluctantly agreed after your friend promised that he'd buy you the next 15 hero movies that came out.

"You never could resist superheroes," (Male Friend) joked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

'You have no idea,' you thought.

An hour slipped by as your friend dragged you around the large ballroom. He insisted that you meet all of his coworkers and friends that he met over the years.

From previous experiences, you learned to keep a conversation going and to pretend to care what they talked about.

Things were going well until the shooting began.

All over the room, waiters and other banquet servers dropped their things and pulled out hidden automatic weapons. A few near the main doors fired randomly into the air, causing a stir in the crowd.

Immediately, all the officers reached for their guns until one of them reached for a human shield.

Lucky you.

He wrapped an arm around your throat while he rapidly swung the gun around. "Anyone of you pigs even thinks about firing your weapons and this bitch gets it."

To prove his point, he let his gun hang by his side and pulled out his knife. Pressing it to your throat, he dug it into your skin. (Male Friend) instantly lowered his gun and ordered his comrades to do the same.

"Good to see you know how to follow commands," the man commented. Keeping his word, he lowered the knife.

Your captor yelled at the other shooters in a foreign language. They ran around the place, corralling the people into groups. You watched as they focused on the politicians and other public officials.

Terrorists. They had to be. The mob would've focused on the wealthy and police officials.

Helping Bruce had its pros. Denying his request that you learn self-defense was not one of them.

As the lower terrorists work, the man holding on to you struck up a conversation.

"You know," he crooned into your ear, dragging his nose up and down the side of your neck. "After we're done here, I can take you back to my place and... Get to know each other better?"

"Over my dead body!" You hissed at him. 

With a growl, he raised his knife to your throat once more. "Don't make me mad," the man warned. "I can slit your throat this second and not blink an eye."

Just as you go to say something else, one window to your right shatters as a dark figure comes barreling through. Most of the civilians duck to avoid the flying glass, along with the terrorists.

The lights flicker as the silhouette weaves through the people, quickly picking off the radicals. As it nears you and your captor, it freezes. For once, you can see the face of the Dark Knight.

Your Dark Knight.

Getting over his moment of weakness, he pulled out a famous Batarang and prepared to fire. Just as he did, your captor pressed the knife into your throat. "Try it bat freak," the terrorist hissed. "Or you'll get this poor girl killed."

Bruce looked to you, unable to hold back the emotions threatening to overcome him. He opened his mouth to call your name, but you silently pleaded that he wouldn't.

"JuSt LeT hEr Go AnD yOu AnD I CaN sEtTlE tHiS," Bruce demanded, his distorted voice just as you remembered it.

Shaking his head, the man dragged you over to the window the hero barged into. He glanced over the edge and grinned when he noticed how far you were up.

Sending a wicked smirk towards the vigilante, the radical tilted you over the side. "Still want me to let her go?" The man taunted.

Bruce took a step forward. "Do It, AnD I'Ll MaKe YoU rEgReT iT!" He screamed menacingly.

"Is that so?"

As he prepared to throw you out the window, you saw Bruce run towards your direction. But even he wasn't fast enough to save you.

You can't hear your quick cry over the rushing wind flooding your ears. The broken window grew farther and farther away as you fell.

Have you ever heard about people who like to freefall from planes? The daredevils who like to plummet to the ground and don't release their parachutes until it's almost too late.

They talk about the rush that they get from feeling the air swishing through their hair as the scenery flashes past them. Their hearts practically burst out of their chests once they realize that this is real.

You felt all of that. But it wasn't beautiful.

You wouldn't fall safely to the ground without a parachute. You wouldn't land on the pavement with just a scratch or two. Your heart, along with other things, would explode out of your torso the second you splattered on the sidewalk.

A blurry object shoots towards you from the way you came. You blink slowly as it grows closer and closer like a speeding bullet.

Wanting him to be the last thing you see, you close your eyes with only a prayer echoing through your mind. He wouldn't hear it, but it made you feel better.

Save me, Bruce.

Darkness quickly overtook you as the air left your lungs.

"(NaMe)?" A gruff voice whispered. "(NaMe)? CaN yOu HeAr Me?"

A covered hand gently takes your chin and tilts it side to side. Your muscles seemed to scream as you slowly open your eyes.

Things are dark as you stare into nothingness. It isn't until hazel eyes meet yours do you realize who's calling for you.

Bruce looks worried as you stare at him with a blank face. He goes to ask if you're all right when you capture him in a hug. "Thank you," you whisper in his covered ear, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek.

As you go to pull away, the hero pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. Shocked by the action, it only takes you seconds to eagerly respond. And just as quickly the kiss ends.

Bruce pulled back, carefully cupping your face with his gloved hands. Rubbing his thumbs over your reddened cheeks, he shook his head.

"I aLmOsT lOsT yOu ToNiGhT," he murmured. "I tHoUgHt I wAs KeEpInG yOu SaFe By PuShInG yOu AwAy bUt I wAs WrOnG."

You laugh quietly as you shake your head. "I could've told you that, you dumbass." Giving him another kiss, you suddenly look around your surroundings.

"I think you should take me back now," you told the undercover superhero. "(Male Friend) might get worried if I don't show up back at the gala."

"ThAt... ThAt'S a GoOd IdEa. HoLd On."

He gently took you into his arms, quietly instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck before he jumped off the side of the building. The wind whooshed past your face, reminding you of your almost deadly fall, causing you to bury your face into Bruce's neck.

It tempted the billionaire to chuckle but decided against it, seeing you were so fragile at the moment. With skilled movements, the hero hurled a Batarang towards the nearest building, shooting a strand of rope that swung the two of you through the air.

It wasn't long before you approached the gala building. Police swarmed the area as they rounded up the dumbasses who even dared to step into Gotham City.

Bruce gracefully landed on top of shattered glass as he entered the almost emptied gala room. He carefully set you down as he checked you over one last time for any other injuries.

"WiLl I sEe YoU aT hOmE?" He asked you shyly, keeping his voice low so only you could hear. Keeping your gaze on your shoes, you feel your lips form into a small smile.

"Only if you pick me up at my place and get my things," you tell him.

Somewhere near the entrance, (Male Friend) noticed your reappearance and caught your attention. "Y/N!" He shouted, catching your attention as suddenly fought to get to your side.

"I'Ll Be ThErE oNcE tHiS bLoWs OvEr," Bruce commented before jumping out of the broken window.

Watching your lover swing into the night made your once broken heart skip a beat as you realized Bruce came back for you.

"Woah, you all right Y/N?" (Male Friend) demanded as he pulled you into a hug, quickly pushing you away to check your skin for visible gashes.

"Yeah, I'm uh... I'm fine," you told him assuredly.

Snapping out of your daze, you look up to your friend who still held his worried gaze. Realizing that you were too calm, you took a fresh approach.

"Hey, I just met Batman. As you said, I never could resist superheroes!"

Rolling his eyes, (Male Friend) pulled you into another hug. He kept you in a tight grip as if to reassure himself you were safe and sighed.

"Let's just hope this kept your mind off of Mr. Playboy," he teased. Sharing a chuckle, you glance nervously to the side as you recalled the promise you made to Bruce.

"Sure it did..." You say uneasily, thinking of a way to explain to your friend how you were getting back together with your ex.

the first time i cried in thunderbolts was when they all worked together to save that woman from the chunk of a building

superhero movies are about people who have the ability to help people and choose to do so

that isn’t all there is but i think the mcu has gotten so focused in the weeds of the multiverse and inner group politics and whatever that they forgot that the reason we watch superhero movies is because we want to watch good guys fight bad guys, but more importantly, we want to watch them help people because that’s why they fight the bad guys in the first place

Ah, I'm so glad you liked it! I was nervous that he was going to come off a little overbearing but I'm very grateful the idea got across. 😁

Nervous Little Thing

IMAGINE: Tim’s been through a lot during his time at NCIS. He’s been stabbed, shot at, attacked by a dog, even almost got blown up a few times. Safe to say, he can get a little paranoid at times. All it takes is a little reminder that the two of you are perfectly ok. WORD COUNT: 572 WARNINGS: Not gonna lie, Tim might sound like a psychopath at one point. Author’s Note: Had a little writer’s block but I decided to release another sappy feel-good piece. Hope y’all like it!

He sat nervously at his desk, constantly looking over his shoulder as if you would magically appear out of nowhere. Usually he’d be in bed by now reading a book but that’s when you’d be next to him, snoring away like a NASCAR engine.

It wasn’t normal for you to come home this late. Tim was used to coming home to you playing some of his video games wearing one of his baggy MIT shirts.

Imagine his surprise when he walked in at around 7:02, an hour after he was supposed to clock out of work, you were nowhere to be found.

“Don’t freak out,” mumbled Tim, sparing a single glance at his watch. The hands that read 9:47 seemed to taunt him as they slowly marched along the face.

There had to be a reasonable explanation why you weren’t back yet. There was a reason why you hadn’t texted him at all today warning him you would be late coming home. There was a reason you weren’t back and he hadn’t heard at all from you.

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