Shoot McMahon X Reader ✨ One Shots ✨

Come Home To You

It was barely ten at night, so why on earth was Shoot's phone ringing at such an hour? Jumping slightly from the sound of his phone buzzing away on the counter, he looked down to see that it was you calling him, growing curious to see why you were calling him so late.

"______, hey." He answered, leaning on his counter.

"Hey!" You replied, your voice sounding a bit rough over the receiver. "I've got a question for ya babe. Would it be alright if I came to your place tonight? It's just closer to me is all."

"Closer to me... _______ where are you right now?" Shoot asked, confused as to how you could be close to him currently.

"Eh, I'm like a block away from your front door." You laughed.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Shoot looked over at his front door and jogged over to it to open it, sticking his head out into the night air. Sure enough, as you had stated, you were actually less than a block away from his home, ambling down the sidewalk directly in front of his home. He hung up the phone as soon as he saw you and came out onto his walkway, embracing you once you made a sloppy turn onto his property while clumsily putting your phone back into your pocket.

"What the hell happened to you? Your clothes are all torn and it's dark as hell out!" Shoot asked you in a worried tone, leading you back to his home.

"You're gonna laugh at this one. I... may or not have gotten a bit too cocky in a little fight and took a bit more damage than I anticipated." You admitted sheepishly.

"My god- of course you did. You've gotta be more careful next time! I know you to come out unscathed, not covered in cuts and bruises." Shoot scolded, kicking his door shut as his hand brushed over some freshly darkening bruises on your shoulder.

"I know... I messed up a bit. At least I won and the target was apprehended in the end though." You said pridefully.

Shoot sighed, shaking his head from your recklessness. "Are you feeling alright at least? You look pretty... beat up."

"It's not that bad, is it?" You questioned.

You actually took a moment to look down at your body for once and fully evaluate the damage your love was referring to. Your clothing was a little more sliced up that you remembered, and as you ran your eyes over your body, you noticed that the cuts on your arms and torso were in fact bleeding. Quite a bit too. You cussed upon realizing you were literally oozing blood in Shoot's foyer and immediately understood exactly why he looked so concerned.

"Ah shit. I... see your point. Do you mind if I just... take a quick shower and try to clean myself up? Before I bleed on your hardwood." You chuckled dryly, giving him an apologetic look.

"Of course not! Take care of yourself, and make yourself at home. Just let me know if you need anything, alright? The bathroom is just ahead of you there." Shoot told you, gesturing for you to carry on.

Nodding again, you slipped your shoes off and tossed your phone onto his couch before you quickly made your way to his bathroom. You felt bad for multiple reasons: bleeding on his doorstep, at ten at night, without any warning, worrying the hell out of him. The fact that he welcomed you without a second thought relieved you though, and you were so grateful of his kindness.

"What a spectacular man I fell in love with." You thought to yourself with a tiny smile.

Starting the water, you tossed your torn up clothes onto the floor knowing damn well you were gonna have to throw them away. When steam started to fill the bathroom and fog up the mirror, you finally hopped into the stream of water and allowed it to cascade down your bruised and battered skin. You hissed as the water washed over your open wounds, the bottom of the tub looking like a murder scene for a moment before it all washed away along with the initial pain you felt. The two biggest cuts you had were on your left bicep and across your lower back and hip, definitely looking brutal and nasty. No wonder Shoot was so worried.