Warning(s) - Age gap (?), cussing, Gunnar showing off what's his.
Note(s) - Writing this with the mindset that the reader is mid to late twenty's, so readers closer to Thorns age than Gunners.
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"You might wanna get your girl Gunner." Barney mused to his friend, pointing to the woman he was referring to. "What?" Gunner turned to see (Y/n), looking incredibly uncomfortable as the new guy, Thorn was chatting with her. Gunner stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair, practically fuming as he stalked over. He locked eyes with (Y/n), who seemed to relax at the sight of him. Once he reached them he was quick to place himself between Thorn and (Y/n), the muscles in his back relaxing when (Y/n)'s hands grasped his bicep. "Can I help you?" Thorn asked with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at his lips as he shot (Y/n) wink. "Yeah, you can stay the hell away from (Y/n)." Gunner warned, his hand clasping around (Y/n)'s when she laced her fingers with his. "Didn't realize she was your kid." Thorn mused, his words annoying both Gunner and (Y/n). "Watch yourself." Gunner hissed. "What, you want to dance, big guy?" Thorn hummed sarcastically, a false smile stretching across Gunners face. "Keep it up, and we will." Gunner tugged (Y/n)'s hand, walking away from Thorn. "Oh yeah." Gunner turned back to Thorn, who looked to Gunner with annoyance. "Just so you know." He then pulled (Y/n) flush against his chest, kissing her fiercely, while his large hands shamelessly groped her ass, all while her arms circled around his neck. The guys were whooping hollering, and even whistling. And when the couple pulled apart, panting for air, Gunner looked at Thorn. "I am (Y/n)'s daddy, just not the kinda daddy you were thinking." Gunner stated casually, him and the guys all booming with laughter, while (Y/n) hid her face in Gunners chest. Thorns face twisted in a scowl, which brought a genuine smile to Gunners face. Effortlessly Gunner then swept (Y/n) up into his arms, and carried her back to his original seat beside Barney. "You okay babe?" Gunner whispered softly when he sat down, placing her in his lap, brushing back the strands of hair in her face. "I am now." (Y/n) hummed before she nuzzled into his neck, placing lazy kisses along his warm flesh. "Good." He mused with a grin, one hand splayed on her back, and the other holding her thigh firmly.
A/n: I hope you like this, though I kinda changed up a part of it😅 sorry for the long wait!💛
Masterlist
Gunfire pelts the concrete beneath my feet, grazing past my shoulders as I charge towards cover, head ducked down, gun held across my chest for some protection. My legs pump hard, feet pounding the ground with each step, my boots sounding in the enclosed space, though it is barely audible over the roaring barrage pursuing me. In my ears I can hear my rushing blood, pulse thundering under my skin, the adrenaline driving me onwards even as the tinge of fear starts to bite at my throat.
The container seems to get further away as I sprint towards it, the gaping door taunting me as I grit my teeth and push harder to get there. Quickening my pace, I fail to notice the gunfire has abated until it's too late, my eyes widening as I come skidding to a halt. Adjusting my grip on the M-16 in my hands, I swallow tightly at the sight of the horde of soldiers moving towards me from the end of the passage.
Backing up, I spin on my heel, intending to race back the way I came, only to stop in my tracks as more approach me from behind. Swearing, I scan the area, frustration and panic building as I realise escape is impossible, the stacked steel containers on either side creating impenetrable walls, with no option of climbing out available.
"I'm gonna need some backup here, boys. Any takers?" I say into the mic, nervously shifting, "I'm pretty far up Shit Creek over here."
I don't get a reply, my brain wracking itself for a solution, only to come up with one that is very unlikely to work but will keep me alive for long enough. Chewing my lip, I slowly slide the second automatic rifle I have with me off of my back, taking each gun in one hand respectively. Taking a deep breath, I move to face one of the walls, lifting my arms out to my side, my fingers held over the triggers of each gun.
Clenching my jaw, I close my finger.
Instantly, bullets spray the gathering soldiers, shouts and screams of pain mingling with the thrum of gunfire, commands and orders being yelled in foreign languages as I fire into their ranks. Shots narrowly miss me as I stand stationary, my stance making it hard for anyone to get a good aim on me, though the whistling of one particular bullet past my nose has me slightly worried. Men fall in the squads to either side of me, diminishing them somewhat.
Soon enough, the rifles run out of bullets, the rounds completely distinguished now, my shoulders aching from the relentless recoil on the weapons. Gritting my teeth, I drop them to the floor, pulling out my two handguns, cocking them before firing into the scrambling ranks once more.
Less men fall with these rounds, but those who do show no likelihood of standing up again, unlike some of those caught in the automatic fire, who were only wounded. The magazines of these guns empty quickly, but I swiftly reload them, biting back a cry of pain as a bullet grazes past my neck, just catching the skin. Hot blood leaks out onto my throat, but I know the wound is superficial so I simply keep firing, emptying more clips of bullets into the approaching soldiers.
Unfortunately, these run out relatively quickly, leaving me with no long-range weapon.
Sighing, I glance between the two groups, a silence having fallen on us as they slowly walk towards me, guns raised. It isn't long before I'm surrounded by them, facing a circle of gun barrels, angry, bloodied faces behind them.
Realising the situation, I feel my shoulders slump, the fight going out of my body as I hold my hands up in surrender, an annoyed frown in place on my face. It takes them a minute, but soon enough the enemy soldiers are stepping towards me, lowering their weapons to watch me be taken in. I bite back a sound of irritation as they come close, my heart racing in my chest; where are the others?!
As the first hand makes contact with me, I spring back into action. Swiftly, I drive my elbow down onto the shoulder of a nearby soldier, following the momentum as guns are raised and fired, blood splattering me as men fall all around. Surging back upright, I pull my knife from my boot and drive it into someone's neck, slicing it cleanly before moving onto my next victim, swiping the blade round to make a jagged wound on their face. Bullets fly all around, hands and legs smacking at me as the men try to subdue me, my knife whirling and wounding anyone nearby. Blood coats my arms and face, gargles of the dying people at my feet going unheard as I duck and lunge, blade flashing brightly.
With calculated proficiency, I stab the knife into a man's chest, pulling him round in time to shield me from a barrage of bullets, the body jerking in my grip as they tear into him. Pulling the weapon free, I go to turn onto a new person, only to find an arm thrown over my throat, pulling me back, cutting off my air. Grunting, I release the knife to grip at the arm, eyes widening as another moves towards us, lifting a foot in preparation to kick me. The blow is harsh as it strikes me, winding me as pain explodes in my abdomen. Groaning, I feel my eyes roll back into my head lungs burning for air as spots begin to form in my vision. With one last push, I grab the arm around my neck and pull down on it, bucking my body down so that his goes flying over me, releasing me from his hold.
Gasping, I fall to my knees, clutching at my throat and chest, wheezing breaths rattling into my lungs harshly. Unable to stand, I feebly lift a hand to defend myself as more men move on me, weapons raised as bats, three making agonising contact with my body before a hum of gunfire starts up again.
This time, all the men around me are gunned down, leaving me kneeling amongst a sea of corpses, my body aching. Breathing heavily, I look up at my saviour, reaching for my knife as I see them hurrying towards me. A burst of relief floods me as I recognise who it is, only to feel it sour a little as I notice who it is.
"Stop tryin' t' play Rambo all the time, Squirt. It ain't cool." Gunnar grunts as he steps over the bodies towards me, face bloodied and bruised.
"I wasn't, actually. And don't call me that, asshole." I retort, voice slightly shaky as I climb to my feet again, taking up a soldier's gun as I go, checking it for bullets.
"Ain't gonna happen, Squirt." The Swede says dismissively, kicking at some of the corpses to check they're dead, shooting one through the head as he whines.
Flipping him off, I go to move again, limping slightly as I realise I've been grazed by a bullet on my leg, my trousers torn in many places.
"You know, a "thank you" never hurt anyone." He calls after me, taking up a defensive position behind me.
Rolling my eyes, I thank him, barely sparing him a glance.
"Thanks."
"Is that it?" Gunnar exclaims, incredulous, "No "thank you for saving me, Gunnar" or "I would've died without you, Gunnar"? Because you know damn well you would've."
"Yeah, yeah, imagine I said those things. You do it often enough anyway."
"Can you two stop flirting for one moment? It's distracting as fuck." Lee's voice echoes through the earpiece I'm wearing, a few agreements following from the other team members.
I'd forgotten to turn my mic off, a fact I now realise with a deep blush.
"We're not flirting, dickhead." I reply, edging round a corner, ready to fire if necessary.
"Keep telling yourself that." Caesar joins in, laughing a little, though his voice sounds strained.
"If you kids don't keep quiet, I'm gonna lock you all in the hangar for a week." Barney grouches over the mics, sounding stressed.
"Sorry Grandad." Lee quips back, clearly being affectionate.
"Very cute, Lee." I can almost hear Barney's eye roll.
"What's the plan, boss man?" Toll breaks in, out of breath.
"Get back to the plane for now - don't lead anyone to us, though! I'm not about to fight off a battalion of soldiers because one of you sorry idiots didn't watch your back." Barney informs us, waiting for a response.
"Got it, boss." Gunnar responds, his voice echoing weirdly in the mics as I hear him speak behind me.
Turning off the microphone, I carry on on my path, leading Gunnar with me. I have no idea where we are, but we can't be too far into the complex - I didn't get that far before I was ambushed. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean we won't get lost. Limping heavily, I sigh as I feel blood seeping through my trousers, as well as trailing down my neck from the wound on my neck. My entire body is aching and hurting, my cheek stinging from a blow of one man's assault rifle; it will bruise over soon enough, but for now it just hurts.
"You gonna survive, or do you need me to carry you?" Gunnar asks after a while, sounding almost genuine.
Before I can reply, however, voices chime in my ear, Barney and Lee suddenly shouting down the mics.
"The place is surrounded! There's no way out!" Barney yells at us, apparently dodging bullets as gunfire sounds in the background.
Worried now, I come to a halt, glancing up at Gunnar.
"What do we do?" I ask them, trying not to sound too concerned.
"Only thing I can think of is splitting up and camping out here tonight...get back to the plane early in the morning. They'll be tired...make more mistakes." Barney replies, apparently running now.
"Camp? Where?" Toll questions, worry edging his voice.
"In one of the containers. It's the safest I can come up with." Lee replies, less snarky than usual.
Sighing, I shift in place, dreading a night of little sleep thanks to constant paranoia already.
"Ok, got it." Gunnar bites out, meeting my gaze.
*
"Relax, already, there ain't gonna be anyone coming up this high." Gunnar sounds exasperated as I tap my knees, a nervous habit I picked up years ago.
"I know that." I snap, a little tense now, "Doesn't mean I can't be careful."
"Well, you better not keep that up all night. If I don't get any sleep because of you, I'll be pissed." The Swede warns, taking a swig from his hip flask.
"Like I give a damn."
Gunnar grumbles something, but I don't quite catch it, making me look at him properly.
"What was that?" I question, suspiciously.
"I said " You used to"." He repeats, staring me down, "Not anymore. You're too fucking stubborn."
"Stubborn?! You're fucking stubborn! I wasn't the one who refused to listen to my friends when I tried to set off a bomb that nearly killed me!" I fire back, only to regret my words as I yet again refer to the one incident I'd rather forget.
It's silent for a moment, neither of us saying a word to fill the new void, only staring at each other, until I drop my eyes.
"Why do you always dwell on that one bad moment?" Gunnar finally says, voice somewhat quieter than normal.
Glancing back up at him, I feel the need to give in to the urge I've had for months, every part of my being screaming at me to reveal the truth behind my constant upset over the incident. I swallow tightly, my thoughts conflicted, until I finally give in.
"Because," I sigh, "That was the day you broke my heart."
He sits, shocked, eyes widening, mouth falling open.
"I...you...what?" Is all he manages, rendered completely speechless.
Fighting back the tears that have sprung to my eyes at the painful memory, I bite my lip and look away from him, building the courage to reply.
"I loved...love...you. I always have. I hate that we argue and bicker all the time, and I hate insulting you, but I have to because you don't feel the same. You hate me! I never told you anything because I was afraid you'd laugh me off and take the piss." I grit out, swallowing again, "That day back then, you broke my heart. Those things you said...god, it nearly killed me. I've never gone a day without hearing them, so I bring the moment up a lot because the others think it was a day when you just fucked up at your job and will joke about it at your expense. It makes me feel better."
Finishing, I clench my fists in my lap, unsure of how this is going to go.
Gunnar stays quiet for a long moment, before he suddenly climbs to his feet, stopping low in the steel container to avoid hitting his head. He sits himself in front of me, taking one of my hands and pulling it to his lips. Gently, he places a kiss there.
"I wish you'd said sooner." He murmurs, before leaning in close and pressing his lips to mine.
Surprised, it takes me a moment to respond, but I do so quickly once my head has caught up, my arms moving to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. It's a slow, sweet kiss, our lips moving in sync, his hand cupping my jaw, fingers stroking over my cheek. Soft sounds leave us as we push closer, the Swede swiftly pulling me into his lap, arm falling to wrap around my waist, securing me in his hold.
Eventually, we pull back, looking into each other's eyes, smiling a little at the adoration we find in them. I feel a sense of relief spread through me, a breathless sigh leaving me as we gaze at each other.
"I'm sorry for what I said back then. It was wrong and-" Gunnar starts, only to stop when I place a finger over his lips to shush him.
"I forgive you, Gunnar. I just want to know if they're true or not, those things." I whisper to him, chewing my lip.
He shakes his head firmly.
"No. None of them. I love everything about you." He reassures me, nosing at my neck, "I love you, (Y/n)."
Smiling, I relax into his grip, exhaustion starting to overwhelm me as he manoeuvres us onto our sides, lying against the wall of the container, my body cradled against his chest. It's not long before I fall asleep in his arms.
A/N: I'm not obsessed, you're obsessed... Just kidding. Anyway, here's a small little thing based off a dream I had. Don't judge me like that! I can see it on your face.
The sky was darker than you had ever seen, and even in the city the stars glowed brightly. The moon was only ¾ full, but that was bright too. The city lights, which were emitting soft mostly golden light, illuminated the blissfully falling snow.
One would think that with all this light and softness, your apartment would be perfectly cozy and warm. However it was exactly the opposite. Everyone in your complex received a memo this morning from the Landlord:
I am extremely sorry for this inconvenience,
but the furnaces for the entire building have gone out and our repairman will not be available until tomorrow. The best I can do is offer my small spare space heater to the first person to ask for it.
Good luck,
Jeanne Stallman.
It was quite the predicament, and there was plenty of complaining from your neighbors. Luckily, you had a medium sized space heater already and it made things bearable, until it started snowing anyway. The temperature dropped drastically when it started snowing and all you could do was grab all the blankets you owned and curl up with the heater next to your bed.
Now here you were, looking at the dark sky through your bedroom window with half lidded eyes, still very cold.
At the same time you were huddled away under a mountain of blankets, Gunnar and the team were pulling back into the city.
“That was pretty rough.” Said Yang, in reference to their recent mission, while sitting on a stool in Tool’s garage. Everyone seemed to agree in silence. “I'm going to need a drink.” Everyone agreed aloud this time nodding their heads and grumbling about Rusty’s Bar.
Everyone except Gunnar.
“You don't want to drink?” Lee questioned, Gunnar shook his head and responded:
“I gotta get back to my girl.”
“She's got you whipped.” Toll said. Everyone else was chuckling, but Barney just smiled and grabbed the keys to his truck.
“I'll give you a ride home Gunnar. Let's go.”
The ride to the apartment building wasn't long, only a few blocks. Gunnar thanked Barney as he got out and made his way up the stairs to the front door. He quickly got into the elevator and smiled as he pushed the button for the 4th floor, your floor. A small ding came from the elevator once it stopped and the doors opened. Gunnar exited and walked down the hall to your apartment.
He took the key you had given him and entered. Gunnar was surprised to find the apartment just as cold as the hallway. Walking further into the apartment, he noticed the memo on your counter. Gunnar rolled his eyes and removed his boots.
After taking a quick shower and throwing on a clean shirt with a pair of boxers, Gunnar finally made his way to your bed. He smiled when he saw your small form under all of the blankets. He slowly joined you under the blankets and found you shivering.
Frowning now, Gunnar went to put his arm around you to share some of his body heat. Unfortunately you noticed and rolled over while rubbing sleep from your eyes.
“Hey sweetheart.” He said in the quietest voice Gunnar Jensen is capable of.
“Hey,” you replied with the sweetest smile he has ever seen. “I thought you weren't gonna be home for a couple more days?”
“Mission didn't last as long as we thought. So I'm here now.” Gunnar pulled you closer to his chest, you were so much smaller than him and so cold. You sighed with great content when you finally felt his body heat envelop you.
Your favorite part of moments like this was when you could hear his heartbeat. When Gunnar had you pressed so close to him that everything seemed to stop and all your could see, feel, hear, and think about, was him.
Gunnar’s favorite part was that he could just be there with you. If he had a bad mission, or just a bad day, he could always count on you being here and being there for him.
When it was just the two of you, all was right with the world.
A/N: I love Dolph Lundgren and noticed a lack of fics. I played with this idea for about a week. Here goes:
Warnings: alcohol, low self esteem, mostly fluff.
Bonus: look at this dork!!
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It had been a rough week for you. Your boss was up in your face about something from corporate, something that wasn't even your fault, your ankle was slightly swollen because you had twisted it while trying to keep up with your fuming boss, you had locked your keys in your car - twice - and to top it all off, your pet turtle died. What hit you hardest, however, was that while your boss was ranting he let slip a comment about how much you snack at the office and called you chubby.
So you sat at the bar, downing shots of whiskey so fast, the bartender almost looked concerned. But, who was he to judge? He certainly wasn't going to ask you what was wrong or give you any comfort. The way he saw it was: the sadder you were, the more business it offered him.
You sat quietly, in your gloom, quietly thanking the bartender each time he refilled your shot glass. Eventually you switched to margaritas, and had quite a few empty glasses in front of you. You knew you weren't a size 0, but you didn't think you were all that chubby until your boss had made the comment. You remember seeing his face fall as soon as his word vomit stopped, he looked like he was apologizing with his eyes. But it still hurt. So you drank on.
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Little did you know, there were other people coming in who had not had the best days of their lives this week either. Barney Ross and his gang of misfits clambered through the saloon style doors and took their seats at their normal table.
“What a sight for sore eyes this dump is.” Toll exclaimed as they ordered a round of beers.
“Could have been here sooner, if you'd have been a bit quicker boss.” Christmas said, beginning his evening banter with Barney.
They group joked and poked fun, all the while drinking and ignoring the aches in their bones. Yang and Gunnar were having a heated argument about women when Caesar came up with an idea.
“Alright, old man,” Caesar directed to Gunnar. “If you think you're so smooth, why don't you try and ask out any girl in this place. I dare you.” Those 3 words at the end are what really got Gunnar going. He began scanning the room.
Then he pointed at you.
“That one.” Gunnar said, turning back to the group. They chuckled, and Christmas spoke up.
“She might actually be buzzed enough to say yes to you.” He said, noticing your collection of empty glasses. Gunnar rolled his eyes and stood up. A couple of the boys whoopes as he walked toward the bar, toward you, but Christmas turned to Barney. “She's definitely old enough, but is she really his type?”
“Gunnar has always had a thing for bigger girls.” Barney replied.
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Another Margarita was placed in front of you when someone sat down on the bar stool beside you. You heard him order 2 glasses of water and that's when you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was a giant! At least 6 foot and completely jacked. He did look a bit older than you though, but he was in remarkable shape and you had to do everything in your power to not let your jaw hit the floor.
The bartender placed two glasses of water in front of him and he turned his head to look at you. Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his. He had this cocky little side smirk, and his eyes were very soft.
“You should really try one of these. Especially after all of those.” He said, nodding toward the empty glasses before you. You smiled a little and thanked him, pushing away the margarita and replacing it with the water. “So, what's a pretty girl like you doing surrounded by all this gloom?” he said that line like he read it off the back of his hand, and you chuckled. He smiled and shook his head. “I'm sorry, I'm not so good with words, I'm more of a fighter than a talker. I'll leave you alone now.”
“No, no!” You began as he started to get up from his bar stool. You didn't know why, but you enjoyed being in this man's company, and you didn't even know his name yet! “Please, sit. What's your name?” He sat back down.
“Gunnar.” He said, downing his water and asking for a beer. “Yourself?”
“Y/N.”
You quickly fell into conversation and it lasted what seemed like an eternity. He made you laugh your small laugh and you made him explode with giant fits of laughter, all the while getting to know each other better than you'd ever let anyone else at the bar get to know you. He was so confident and carefree. You felt your self confidence rising by the minute, just from talking to him. Soon enough, people started clearing out and not many were left in the bar. Finally, Barney whistled to get Gunnar’s attention.
“You ready Romeo?” He joked.
“Just a minute.” Gunnar called back, before turning to you again. “Here I go, tryin’ to talk again.” You giggled. “Can I please get your number?”
You bit your bottom lip as you nodded and reached for a napkin and a pen. You quickly scrawled down your number and stood up. His friends had already gone outside, so you walked him to the door. You handed him the napkin and he smiled his big dopey grin.
“I'll see you again.” He assured you.
“I look forward to it.” You looked up at him for a moment, then motioned for him to lean down. He did and you softly kissed his cheek, before turning away and walking out the doors and going home.
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Gunnar walked out of the bar a couple minutes later and found his team waiting outside.
“So, how'd it go?” Yang asked, eagerly awaiting Gunnar’s failure.
Gunnar simply smirked and held up his napkin. The boys whooped, and he climbed onto his bike heading back to Tool’s garage.
