#AND THEN HER UNLOADING THE MAGAZINE FROM THE GUN AND THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER AGAIN

[thealdersgateoffice]

Jackson Lamb and Catherine Standish: glances and gazes

Slow Horses | Season 1 🐌🐎

+ bonuses (and possibly my favourite looks he gives her):

[peregrine21]

Firearm Training - Abby Sciuto x Gibbs'!Daughter Reader

Pairing: Abby Sciuto x Gibbs'!Daughter Reader

Includes: fluff, slight hurt/angst?, cute moments with Abby, Abby comforting you, soft Gibbs moment because he’s your dad

Warnings: guns, shooting guns (at paper targets) 

Word Count: 2395 (I hope this finds people who also love Abby bc it’s so rare that I make it to 2000 words)

Brief Description: Your dad (Gibbs) wanted you to learn firearm safety and how to shoot a gun after several incidents of members of his team and/or their loved ones being targeted. You did fine for most of the lesson but did not handle live fire well. You had an emotional reaction to it but tried to push through until Abby came up to comfort you. Your dad took you and her to get milkshakes and cookies after to help you feel better.  

~~~

Firearm training. You were here because your dad wanted you to learn firearm safety and how to shoot a gun. You weren’t fond of loud noises; you preferred bows and crossbows to a gun anyday. However, after several incidents of the team being targeted and even your girlfriend Abby being violently stalked by an ex, you could understand your dad wanting you to learn how to use a gun. Most of the team was there, save for Ducky and Palmer. It was you, Abby, Tony, Tim, Ziva, Director Shepard, and your dad for the day on a private outdoor range with one of your dad’s friends as the instructor. You used one of your dad’s pistols for the day, with “GIBBS”written on the side of the magazine. The guns were all on tables for now as for the first section of the day, your group was reviewed on the build and mechanisms of standard pistols and magazines. 

Sitting in a circle with the team, you learned firearm safety: how to carry and handle a pistol safely; the build and parts of a basic pistol: how to take it apart, clean it, reassemble it; and its functions: how to load rounds into a magazine followed by how to load and unload a pistol without shooting it. You did a few rounds of safety checks and learned to never assume it’s unloaded. You practiced dry firing it and the instructor helped you with your hand positioning and grip; your stance was already solid from your previous years in martial arts. The dry fire shooting felt easy going and made you feel cool as you heard the click of shooting imaginary bullets at the target. Your dad and girlfriend both looked at you often with proud expressions on their faces as you quickly picked up each concept and were doing quite well in the course thus far. 

It was 4 hours into the course and was finally time for lunch. After lunch it would be time to start shooting live rounds at paper targets. However, for now you all just gathered round and decided to go to a local diner for lunch. It was a 20 minute drive there, and despite there being 8 of you, you were all seated right away as the town you were in was remote enough for the diner to be sparse on patrons. You sat next to Abby, Director Shepard next to her, and the instructor at the end of your side of the table. Ziva was in front of you then, Tony, McGee, and your dad filling the other 3 seats on that side of the table respectively. You and Abby ordered fried chicken and waffles to share, your dad and Shepard got steaks, Ziva, Tony, and McGee got sandwiches, and the instructor got a burger. You all took your time to enjoy the meal in each others’ company, you occasionally leaning your head on Abby’s shoulder or her stealing a bite of the waffle you were nibbling on. After much enjoyment and frivolity, you all ended up returning to the range an hour and a half later for the second half of the course. 

You got out of Abby’s car and walked over to the range, Shepard and the instructor already waiting on the course as they rode with your dad, and Tony was close on the way driving Ziva and McGee. You, Abby, your Dad, and director Shepard were already set up as you and Abby were borrowing a pair of your dad’s spare handguns that he stored in his car. Each of your respective guns and accessories were set on the tables, now accompanied by trays of live rounds. Tony’s, Ziva’s and McGee’s guns and gear were with them already, and they would have to set it up themselves upon arriving. The trio soon arrived, and as they got set up, the instructor had the rest of you start with putting on your noise canceling headphones and safety glasses. You glanced over at Abby, adored at how amazing she looked even in the firearm noise canceling headphones and glasses, the headphones set against her bow topped pigtails. The instructor then called for a safety check, followed by loading your magazines with a few live rounds. You were starting to feel a bit anxious as you’d never fired a live round before and the instructor warned you’d need a firm grip to counter the power of shooting live rounds. Before picking up the guns to load in the magazines, Abby leaned over and kissed your cheek— likely leaving a lipstick mark— and gave your hand a squeeze. “You’ll do fine,” she assured you with a gentle smile, clearly noticing your nerves start to kick in. 

You lined up with the rest of your group, the instructor on your left to help with your lesson, and Abby on your right for moral support. The instructor led for everyone to begin. Each in your group aimed their guns forward  and the instructor made minor adjustments to your grip before telling you to place your finger on the trigger and fire when ready. Before you could do so, you heard the first few shots fired from the team and flinched, your eyes closing at the same time. You opened them and took a deep breath trying to brush it off and fixed your own aim. The instructor had held up her hand to signal everyone else to stop firing so as to let you focus. You aimed at the target, took a deep breath, and slowly pulled the trigger as instructed. On the outside you appeared calm, but it felt like winding a jack in the box until *BANG!* You jumped and your hands were shoved up as your body absorbed the inertia of the shot. You looked at your instructor and pasted a smile on your face as she told you that you’d done well. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes but you fought them, slightly confused as to why they were forming as you didn’t feel particularly sad. You flashed your plastered smile at Abbs, and she smiled in return as she took a few shots herself. You still flinched at every loud bang, but you pushed it all down. It was fine, you were fine. You asked the instructor for some advice on how to avoid losing your grip again, “Uhh, how do I keep my hands from shooting up when the gun fires and keep my grip?”. The instructor moved you into position and put her hands over yours on the gun, “you gotta make sure there is no space between your hands and hold your (dominant) hand firmly with your (non-dominant) hand”. You nodded, giving an ok in response before the instructor took a break to use the restroom. Abbs had finished a few rounds and put her gun on the table before coming up to you from the side. She laid a hand on your back and left a gentle kiss on the back side of your neck, “I’ll be over at the tent babe, you’re doing great!”, she informed you before returning cheerfully to the tent set up for breaks and spectating. It was now you, Ziva, McGee, Tony, and Director Shepard on the range. Your dad was watching from the tent along with Abbs who had just sat in one of the chairs to spectate with him. 

You prepared to take another shot and aimed at the target when Ziva came up beside you, “Fix your grip, there’s a gap between your hands again.” You did as she told you and thanked her before putting your finger on the trigger and slowly pulling it again. *BANG!* You jump again and silent tears form. You try to push through and keep your gaze forward so as to not let anyone onto the tears nearly falling down your face. You take a deep breath your heart racing, fixing your grip before pulling the trigger a third time, *BANG!* Silent tears start to fall down your cheeks, still baffling you as you don't feel sad or upset. A sniffle tips off Ziva who leans over to look at your face. She notices the tears and bluntly inquires, "What are the tears for? You're only shooting at a paper." You feel bad for not being able to stop it and feel pressured to suck it up, responding that you’re fine and start setting up for another shot. Abby heard from the chairs set up at the tent behind the shooting range and immediately made her way over, your father Gibbs behind her. Your calm steadiness starts to waver as your hands begin to shake. You breathe, put your finger on the trigger and take your 4th shot, losing your grip on the gun as your hands start to shake even more. You bring your (non-dominant hand) back onto the gun and aim at the target once more, hands and arms shaking profusely and tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision a bit.

Ziva is baffled at your emotional state, giving you a confused look as to why this is making you cry. You didn’t really understand why yourself, you just knew you couldn’t stop it or hold it back even though you didn’t necessarily feel upset. You hear another couple shots  from Tony and McGee and flinch again. By this time, Abby has finally made it to you and pressed her body against your back, wrapping one arm around you and grabbing the gun out of your hands with the other. You turn and melt into her, tears still falling down your face and she rubs her thumb against your back trying to calm you a bit, “Darling, it’s ok, you did so good. You don’t have to keep going.” Your dad makes it over and looks to Ziva who is still perplexed, “Stop staring and take the gun from Abby would ya?!” You bury yourself further into Abby as Ziva takes the gun out of Abby’s hand and places it on the table. Now with a free hand, Abby turns the volume all the way off on your headphones to reduce the loudness of the gunshots. You look up at her. “It helps a bit to have the volume all the way down” she tells you as she holds your face and wipes the tears away with her thumb. You bury your face into her neck and she wraps her other arm around you, holding you close and whispering affirmations and sweet nothings into your ear. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, standing behind Abby to talk to you, “Hey, you did good kid. You can stop if you want to. I just wanted you to know how to shoot if you ever need to. Now you can.” Abby walked you over to the tent and sat against a table, keeping you in her arms as you calmed down, rubbing circles on your back with her thumb. The rest of the team kept on shooting, your Dad taking your place in the lineup. Director Shepard came over and leaned against the table beside Abby, placing a hand on your back and reassuring you, “Hey, you’re ok.” She smiled, and you tried to smile back in return, still shaking a bit. “You can sit over here with us while they finish the course, no need to go back out.” After a few minutes, your breathing had finally evened out again, and Abby brought you around the table to the chairs while keeping you close to her. She sat down and guided you to sit in her lap as Director Shepard sat in the chair beside hers. You sat across her lap, legs over the side of the chair, and leaned into her. You kept your head on her shoulder as she put one around your waist and left the other one free. You still flinched at most of the shots the rest of the team took so Abby pulled out your book to distract you a bit. She held you in her arms and read your book with you until the shooting course was over. 

Afterwards, the team packed up all their gear and put it into their respective cars, your dad packing up for you and Abby as both of you had borrowed his spare pistols for the course. Tony, Ziva, and McGee left first, bidding the rest of you farewell. Your dad came up to you and Abby, both of you still consumed in the book, and pulled it down to get both your attention, “Hey, how about we go to the diner for milkshakes before heading home?” You liked the idea. Shepard joined the three of you; she had felt like a mother to you and Abby. The instructor bid you all a farewell as she had her own car to return home with and still had to pack up the course for the night. 

Around 20 minutes later, you had arrived at the diner and been seated in a 4 person booth, you and Abby on one side and Gibbs and Shepard on the other. Your dad ordered a chocolate malt shake, Shepard a Vanilla one, and Abby a Black and White (think chocolate and marshmallows). You still felt shaken so Abby, knowing your favorites, ordered your favorite milkshake as well as a double order of chocolate chip cookies for you and her to share. Once the waitress had gone to put in your orders, Abby pulled you close by the waist and the two of you sat nuzzled up together. You remained like this still when your orders arrived and as you enjoyed the sugary rewards of the day. After you were done, the sun was starting to set so your dad paid the bill and you all headed out: Shepard with Gibbs and you with Abbs. She had her hand either on your thigh or laced into your hand for half of the ride to your house where she was spending the night. Your dad cooked dinner that night for the four of you and Shepard headed home at around 9pm. You and Abby remained cuddled up for the rest of the night before finally falling asleep, wrapped together in each other's arms.

[sugolara]

𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡

ft. Shota Aizawa x daughter! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, Shota Aizawa and his eldest daughter must survive from the flesh eating monsters in hopes that Eri is still alive. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, cross-posted on ao3, wattpad, qoutev

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Their vehicle was parked right in front of the car. In case of any emergencies like the dead popping by or a bandit they could easily get in and drive off. They just prayed that nothing would happen and things would go smoothly. Despite coming here for the items they also came by for hopes of guns.

“Here's the car.” Shota said as he traveled to the drivers door and opened it. Seeing the key was still there felt relieving and upon looking at the back seat and seeing the same crates was also reliving.

He grabbed the key and headed to the trunk to open it. As he did so, Toshinori began to unload the boxes to the trunk of their vehicle with Hizashi helping as well. Nemuri stood next to Shota, glancing at the buildings around, “So where exactly do we go to find guns. I’m not familiar with this city.”

“We should just drive around until we find one.” Hizashi thought, but he let out a groan, “Or maybe not considering how low we are with gas. What if all the weapons are gone? It hasn’t even been a month, I'm sure there are plenty of weapons.”

“But who's to say people decided to not grab guns.” Nemuri added, leaning onto the vehicle, “The outbreak might had caught us off guard but that doesn't mean we shouldn’t find ways to protect ourselves.”

Tohsinori agreed with her. Had he not helped his students escape and helped civilians he would have headed to the nearest ammunition store, “So walking it is.”

Shota nodded, “We should hide the truck first. That way we don't go home empty handed.”

They all agreed and began to head to an alley where vines, bushes and an overgrown tree began to grow. Thankfully the truck wasn’t that bulky to where it would look odd and most definitely noticeable. The smaller truck snuggly fit inside the alley and with the help of broken store sign they placed it in front as an extra precaution.

“I’m surprised we haven’t ran into a dead.” Nemuri said, scanning her surroundings as they walked down the street.

“They must’ve left with the horde.” Toshinori added, “It's very quiet too. You can even hear the birds singing.”

“Yeah.” Hizashi suspiciously looked around, expecting something to jump out, “Too quiet.”

Shota agreed with them. Considering how populated the dead were it would be suspicious if one wasn’t around, but they were lucky to not see one. All they had in hand was a rifle and their knives.

“Hey, check it out.” Hizashi quickened his pace and stood in front of a sign. The sign was big and showed the stores surrounding them. A subway was a few blocks away from them, but no one dared to enter through there for now. Who knows what might be there and the last thing they needed was to get trapped.

“A map.” Toshinori muttered as he tried to find where they currently stood, “This must be an outside mall.”

Nemuri, who stood next to Shota, pointed at the sign. Next to them was another street and just in that street was an ammunition store, “We’re closer than we thought. Who knew a mall held a store like that?”

“Good.” Shota quickly replied as he eyed the area. A magazine just across the street had its sheets flying as the wind blew by, “If the stores closed they would use gates so no one would steal.”

“That's the issue.” Toshinori placed his hand on his chin, thinking of a solution, “If it is closed we’d need something to open it and I doubt there would be wire or a chain cutter around. Stores like that tend to be very protected.”

“Or,” Hizashi glanced at the map again, “maybe they didn’t have the time to close and it's still open, and if it is the problem we would have is if there's people inside.”

“True.” Shota wanted to let out a groan of how complicated the situation was, “We’ll walk by and if it close we’ll figure out a way to open it. It might take us longer, but at least we’d have weapons.”

Taking the rifle off her shoulders, Nemuri handed it to Toshinori with a smile, “You’re a good shot. If there happens to be people and we're in trouble you can easily take them.”

Killing someone living was never on Toshinori's bucket list, but if it meant saving his fellow friends then that's exactly what he’d do. The blood would be on his hands and he’d rather take it than have someone else live with the kill, “Don’t forget we still have that other store to go to, so let's not take too much time. Are we good to go?”

With a nod they began to approach the store. As they did so, back in the apartment complex and in the laundry room where light was most provided Hitoshi used the sharp scissors and carefully cut out certain images in the magazine while F/n glued the other images down on the cardboard.

Surrounding them were magazines, glue, scissors, glitter, pencils, markers, sticky notes and a bottle of green paint. They, or rather F/n, begged the children who were using the markers and glitter. It was rather embarrassing as Hitoshi watched. She even bowed down to them, her knees and face on the floor while the kids giggled at her before they handed her a few markers and the glitter.

“That is a very ugly drawing.” Hitoshi said as he eyed the drawing that she made, “It doesn’t even look like her.”

F/n scoffed as she focused on the facial details, “It's the thought that matters. Besides, once I add the wings she’ll look like an angel. I mean, she already does…”

She muttered the last part, but Hitoshi heard as he flipped through a magazine and ripped out a page, “Right, but why did you make her big. She almost looks like that one statue in America.”

“Duh, because she’s the center of attention.” F/n leaned forward and squinted to draw the eyelashes, “We’ll be like her minions holding swords and a shield. She is the lady of goddess.”

“I think you’re taking this too seriously.” Hitoshi said, cutting away.

“You’re right.” F/n shrugged and sat back, “But as long as it distracts her from what she’s going through then that's all that matters. She’s in pain and who knows how long she has.”

The male next to her stopped his movements. True but yet sad to think that Itsuka would most likely die tonight. She’ll be lucky enough to even see tomorrow, “You think Yagi might come early? They're still scavenging so they might bring medicine.”

“I don’t know.” F/n eyed her drawing. Itsuka clearly stood out and despite it being a drawing, F/n was proud to have her drawn well, “I want to say yes, but they don’t plan on stopping until they find something decent.”

“That's not really reassuring.” Hitoshi mumbled, looking as she continued to draw away. A hue of blush decorated his cheeks when she shifted and the sun hit her face. It made her eye color shine and she honestly looked like a goddess.

He mentally groaned as he looked the other way, fighting the idea as he concentrated back to cutting, “So, uh, what are going to do with the glitter?”

“Such a goddess deserves a shiny dress.” F/n quietly chuckling at herself for saying that, “You done with the last piece? I think we have a lot of pictures.”

Hitoshi nodded as he handed her the last image. It was a bouquet of flowers and she glued it down to the side where it circled the drawing she did. She sat back, grabbing the glitter and poured it on Itsuka's dress. She proudly admired her work, “A masterpiece.”

He wiped the few speck of glitter that got on the end of his jeans, “You got it everywhere.”

He then looked at the now poster. It was mostly stamped with random pictures; flowers, mountains, airplanes, smiles, eyes, landscapes, animals, and rainbows. Lastly, their names that were in different shapes circled the poorly drawn drawing.

“For someone who doesn't draw, it's not bad.” Hitoshi raises a brow in amazement, “Not bad, F/n.”

“Thank you, thank you…” She bowed and bowed as if someone were throwing flowers at her.

The male rolled his eyes as he stood up, dusting any dirt that got on his jeans, “Let's shake it before we give it to her. We don’t glitter to stick to her room.”

Nodding, F/n stood up. She grabbed one end while Hitoshi grabbed the other and shook it lightly. Thanks to the sun it had made the glitter shine before it fell to the floor where the shade rested.

With a smile on F/n’s lips and a boredom on Hitoshi’s face they began to head to Itsuka’s home. They entered and approached her room and upon seeing her reading a book with a sweaty face they raised their lips to a smile.

“Presenting!” F/n said as she stood to the side and made a jazz hands at the poster that held Hitoshi, “A gift from yours truly!”

The wounded girl laughed as she set her book down, “You guys did all this?”

“She did, I mostly watched.” Hitoshi said as he walked towards her so she could get a better view, “We added all the places we wanted to visit or at least the ones that look nice.”

“What's with me being an angel and you guys being knights?” She chuckled as she pointed at it. She felt warm. To know that someone cared enough to do this for her made her feel sad. If they had to go out of their way to this then they know about her wound torturing her.

“We’re your sidekicks!” F/n sat down near her feet, “I'm an awesome drawer, right?”

“Awesome?” Hitoshi playfully scoffed as he began to turn the board around, “What about these that you messed up on?”

“C’mon man. Don’t show her those.” F/n grumbled as she eyed the ones she previously drew, “Those are a disaster.”

Itsuka laughed when she saw it, “Wh-what did you do? It doesn't even look accurate.”

“Right.” A smile was brought to his lips, “It looks so bad.”

“Alright. Okay I get.” F/n grumbled, though she smiled as she watched Itsuka continued to laugh and Hitoshi followed along.

The happy moment was then destroyed as Itsuka sucked her breath, her hands clenching her side and began moaning in pain. Her eyelids were covered in tears, “Ow!”

Hitoshi quickly dropped the board as he went to her with F/n coming in next. She watched as Hitoshi laid her down to her side and checked her wound, both of their eyes widened as it looked distinguishable.

“It hurts..!” Ituska cried, clutching on her sheets, “It h-hurts so much!”

Hitoshi shoved F/n as he began to grab the rubbing alcohol, “Go get the lady from 4B!”

She quickly rushed out of the room and down the stairs almost tripping in the process. Hearing the lady's voice in the manager's room she headed there and upon seeing her husband as well she yelled at them, “Itsuka needs you!”

The next second they were all in her room. F/n and Hitoshi stood by the side, watching as the lady and her husband began to clean her and the cries of Itsuka grew. What F/n and Hitoshi didn’t know was the shared look that the lady and her husband shared as they noticed Itsuka’s wound had gone completely black.

“Why aren’t the-” Before hitoshi could finish his sentence, Itsuka cries stop and she begins to seize.

“Is she okay!?” F/n yelled but she wasn’t answered as the husband shoved them outside. “You can’t be in here. We need space.”

The door was then slammed and they stared at it. Itsuka’s room number was the only thing they could look at. They stood there in quiet, their breaths increasing as time passed by and before they knew it the door creaked open.

A sorrowful look was shared. Tears stained the corner of F/n’s eyes as she glanced down to the husband's hand, a knife in his grasp, “What did you do…?”

The woman placed a hand to her heart, her hands covered in blood from trying to address the wound, “I’m sorry, kids…she..”

Hitoshi couldn’t bear to hear it and instead entered his home that was next to Itsuka's. She tried to go after him but then she realized what became of her friend, “What do we do..”

The husband lets out a sigh, “We burn her.”

“What!?” She yelled but before she could say anything else the humans stopped her. “We understand that she should have a popper burial, but there isn’t any room. The main area is of concrete and only a small portion is dirt. People don't deserve to get burned, but in this case... What is done is done. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” She said quietly and listened as they entered the home again. Her eyes rolled to Hitoshi’s door and she cautiously entered it. She looked around to look for where he might be and she finally found him sitting on his bed furiously wiping his eyes.

“...I thought…I was quick enough to get her help…to get her here. Maybe instead of looking for a place where we could hide I should have looked for medicine���but I never did.” He said as he sniffled, “It didn’t look bad so I thought I had more time.”

She sat next to him, “You can’t blame yourself, Hitoshi. Sometimes…things happen and you can’t control it. No matter how hard you try.”

“But I did have control.” he quietly said, “I could’ve taken her to a hospital or a clinic, but instead I chose for us to hide so we can see another day. Do you know how selfish that sounds?”

She hugged her knees, her heart aching at his paned voice, “Didn’t you protect her? Weren’t you the one who brought her here? You kept her safe and you did so to the very end.”

He didn’t say anything. He continued to stare down at his jeans, inspecting every stitch as he let the quietness burst his eardrums. That was until F/n spoke again, “Can I ask…what happened to your parents?”

His eyes slightly widened. He doesn't know what happened to them. If they're even alive or just another corpse walking aimlessly to an unknown destination. He realized he stayed too quiet as he could hear the girl mumble out an apology.

But he shrugged, his brows furrowed sadly, “I don’t really know. I never had the chance to go home because the streets were chaotic. I don’t even know if they're alive or…dead.”

Her hands were playing with his blankets, “If you could, would you go and find them?”

He nodded. From the corner of his eyes he could see her hands, “If I hadn't found Itsuka I would have. I’m not saying she was in the way, I just prioritized her because I didn’t want her to die on me. She was a friend of a friend, so I knew her really well. But if it did—if I ever got the chance I would have searched for them. Even if they died it would have given me some closure.”

She let her eyes roll to him, “...That’s so sad.”

His eyes squinted as he could feel them burn. His nose twitched as he sniffled once again, but he slightly jumped when she held his hand and spoke again, “I’m sure they would have done the same. They might be looking for you and you might never know. Maybe, one day you will run into them and you’ll get the closure you want…or at least I hope so.”

A small smile spread to his lips and his cheeks welcome a blush, “..Thank you.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand.

The sun has gone down and stars are twinkling at her. She boredly played with the gun she found earlier, waiting for her father to arrive. By now, Hitoshi has fallen asleep in her home. She didn’t want him to be alone.

Hearing a car coming by, she looked at the gate and quickly rushed to it. Seeing Toshinori and Nemuri exit she smiled, “Hey!”

“Oh, F/n.” Nemuri shook her head as the gates screeched open, “Shouldn’t you be asleep and most importantly inside the complex and not in the open?”

She nervously chuckled, “Maybe…”

She then rushed back to her spot as the truck drove in, the gates closing behind, “Anything good?”

Toshinroi ruffled her hair with a smile, “A lot. We’ll unpack tomorrow so we can get a good night's sleep.”

His eyes were preoccupied when he noticed the lady from 4B come outside and waved at him to come forward, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Nemuri responded as she left with Hizashi following after, “Goodnight, F/n!”

She waved at them and then turned around to see Shota let out a sigh and gave her a look, “I know, F/n you should be asleep. But dad, todays been pretty hectic. Anyways, Hitoshi’s sleeping inside. I didn’t want him alone.”

He raised a brow, but seeing her brows and lips quiver he placed his hands on her shoulders, “What's wrong? What is it? What happened?”

She took in a shaky breath, sniffling as she tried her best to not cry, “I-I…Itsuka…didn't make it.”

His eyes fell as he pulled her in a hug. He already had a feeling she wouldn’t make it and to hear that one of his students, his smart student, died was heartbreaking.

“Hit-Hitoshi thinks that it's his fa-fault.” She sobbed and sniffled. Her tears stained his sleeves, but he wasn’t worried about that.

He understood Hitoshi’s feelings. He felt the same when his friend, Oboro died years ago. It was an accident, but Shota felt like he could have prevented it, “He couldn’t have done anything. None of us could.”

She sniffled and wiped her tears with his sleeves, “Dad…how long ‘til we get Eri?”

He hugged her tightly, the wind blowing both of their hairs as it howled. His eyes looked to where the truck was parked. The back was filled with food and successfully they found their weapons, “Soon, F/n. Soon.”

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Could just be me, but I'm over here thinking of how Tseng would handle the knowledge that his s/o carries multiple hidden weapons on her person due to the overall unsafe fuckery going on around her.

Even before establishing their relationship, he's aware of her hidden weapons, is he cautious? Obviously, but he's understanding, relieved just knowing she's prepared for the worst. Does he know exactly where they are hidden at first? Not really, but he can definitely guess, and it's not until she feels safe enough that she trusts him to know where to look. It's the highest form of love and trust his s/o can offer him. Why? Because she's trusting him and willing to let him protect her while her guard is down.

This answer is….all over the fucking place, sorry LOL

I think I might be the right person to answer this question for personal reasons (srry not srry i love my guns.) I too think about how Tseng would react once he noticed I conceal carry. But I'm also very considerate of the fact that not all people are comfortable with the presence of firearms. I guess I'll explain this from personal experience.

Before establishing a relationship there really should be a discussion on the topic to see how the other feels about it. Not until you can trust him enough at least, but it's a little nuts to go to someone's home without them knowing you're armed, so that discussion would have to happen before the first time you go to his place. If he comes to your place though...you don't have to say shit. He'll be nosey enough to find the gunlocker, hiding spots, ammo, extra magazines, and/or maintenance supplies etc while you're asleep. Sorry, I can't imagine Tseng isn't a snooping ass boy.

Granted, there are more weapons a person can carry other than a gun, this would probably be the only problematic weapon to Tseng. It isn't like you'd be fast or strong enough to outmaneuver him with hand to hand combat. Short range wouldn't work out in most people's favor.

Now having weapons on your person. How would he notice before you tell him? Well, conceal carry isn't the most comfortable thing in the world and a lot of holsters suck and depending on what you're wearing...the outline/bulge ugh. Like, sometimes it's just there LOL. The preferred location is the front of my waistband (faster for me to draw and easiest location to hide it.) Sometimes this limits range of motion, cause fucking hell, tying your shoe for example with a firearm on your front is wildly uncomfortable. Weapon size matters too, full-sized firearms are far harder to hide than compact ones. He’s probably able to tell all the little signs.

So if you've perfected the art of concealing; how else would he know? Well...physical contact probably. You can try to be slick and give him that disrespectful side hug but after a few dates he isn't playing that anymore and pulls you into a fully flushed hug. You also can’t cuddle someone and they NOT notice you got that thang on you. He’s gonna touch all over you eventually and without a doubt you’ll probably want him to.

I think he won’t be bothered at all in fact, I’m sure he wouldn’t even discourage you from carrying. I’ve seen this numerous places and agree with the head canon that Tseng probably does extensive background searches of people he dates. So as long as that’s clean, he isn’t so bothered. Plus he’ll be gone often and without Tseng being around you’ll need to protect yourself as you have been. So knowing that you’re already capable of doing so is a relief to him. He’s going to make sure you’re throughly up to speed with the safety of weapons and would probably help improve your handling. Definitely gives me the vibes that he’d unload your gun, set it down, and ask you to grab it. Just to get a quick glimpse of how you approach holding it. He needs to know you don’t grab it any kind of way and that you certainly don’t treat guns like they’re a fuckin toy.

I do love visualizing when I come home from the day and I’m disarming myself. Dropping my mag and putting my gun in Tseng’s nightstand to assert dominance over these other bitches Rufus. I also take that as the ultimate sign that you’re stuck with me. 😂😂😂my gun??? In someone else’s nightstand???? The fuck, I’d be DAMNED but I’d trust Tseng enough for it.

[home-on-the-wastes]

Hell of a Ride (2/2)

When someone finally makes it through the Gauntlet, Gage's relieved that they might finally have a candidate for Overboss--until he sees that the contender's just a kid. Still, she's the first who's gotten this far in a long time, so maybe there's some merit to her skills, and would be a good fit for the role after all. Besides, kids can be bossed around, right? See Part 1 for additional tags. Part 1 // 2

Gage dragged himself to his feet to survey the damage. The corner of the arena was black, and near the center of it, what was left of Colter in his power armor. A piece of the oversized helmet was dented and cracked, embedded in the arena guard rail. 

Gage had to hand it to the kid—she at least put on a good show before she blew herself up. Took who she could down with her. If the groans and screams from the stands were any indication, Gage was sure she killed one or two of the gang members right up against the fence from the debris. Fucking idiots.

Then, in the smoldering wreckage, Gage spied some movement. Still on his back, Colter tried to roll over, get on his feet, and do something. Gage couldn’t tell if it was death throes or if he was still alive, just trapped in that stupid fucking power armor, burning up. If Colter survived this, he was gonna skin Gage alive for the Thirst Zapper stunt.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, something else moved.

It might have been a curse, or maybe it was just an unintelligible scream of rage and adrenaline. The kid jumped out of the wreckage, blackened and burning, and unloaded the remainder of the magazine into Colter’s face. The rattling of bullets against the ground punctuated her rage, and when the gun clicked and the ammo expended, she threw it aside, grabbed her machete, and kept chopping, screaming until her voice gave out and there was no way that Colter was alive anymore. With a final swing, arching blood across the arena floor, the kid stopped her bloody double tap as soon as she began it.

Her entire body heaving, she did a brief sweep of the crowd. Gage thought she would jump onto the fence and go mental, but she didn’t. As the seconds ticked by, her tense shoulders started to droop, little by little. She slowly started to lower her machete.

Everyone let out the breath they were holding. Finally, the kid looked at him, jaw set, spitting mad. A plan began to form.

Redeye’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Gage, what the hell just happened?”

He had to get it together, or all of this would be for nothing. Turning to the crowd, Gage shouted over the growing discontent. “You saw it–we all saw it! Colter’s dead.”

He could work with this. Gage grinned and waved a hand at the kid to present her. She spat a glob of blood onto the floor and what looked like a tooth.

“We’ve got ourselves a new Overboss.”

He heard the complaints, especially from the gang leaders. Worried all this talk would spook the new boss, Gage waved his hand and leaned closer to the microphone. “Hey, we talked about this. She survived the Gauntlet. She was smart enough to take my advice and strong enough to kill Colter. She’s what we need. So how about we show some new respect from our new leader.”

“Leader?” the kid asked. Her voice cracked, making it sound like a hiccup. Gage would be pissed if this psychopath started crying, so he waved her off discreetly and kept talking to the crowd.

“All right, all right, now get the hell out of here. I’ll show the new boss around.”

People would be talking about this fight for weeks. Gage eyed the leaders of each gang, talking with their seconds and amongst their crews. Sure, Mason looked mildly annoyed and Nisha was unreadable, but Mags and her brother looked mildly impressed, if not a bit curious.

Gage had to admit the kid had left a good impression. She was tougher than she looked.

Spookier, too. When Gage turned back to the door, she had moved to cracked glass, staring at him like she was out of a god damned horror story with blood dripping down her face. He couldn’t figure out if it was hers or Colter’s, so he decided it was better not to know.  He also opted to not open the door and hoped she wasn’t crazy enough to crawl through the broken windows.

“That went better than expected,” said Gage. “But you gotta listen real close, and you listen good. You just helped us complete a plan that’s been in motion for months.”

The kid’s pupils were starting to return to their normal size, contracting properly with the flashing lights. Gage went through the general overview of the place, the three gangs, how the whole place was just one short fuse from blowing sky high, and how she was going to help him smooth things out. As he explained the situation, he wondered how the kid was going to take it. She didn’t seem much different from the other teenagers who wandered too close to Nuka World and got caught up in one of the gangs, either as a new member or as a new victim. A few well-placed threats would probably make her complacent–at least, until Gage could figure out if she could actually stick around, or just be a stand-in until someone better showed up and crushed her in the Gauntlet.

“What if I don’t want to?” asked the kid.

“Well, you can try and make a break for it,” Gage replied, “where you become hunted by some of the crazier guys here, or you die somewhere out there between here and the Commonwealth. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to get enough supplies to get there, and that transit ain’t running until we say it does.”

She nodded at this, shifting where she stood. Weighing her odds, probably. “Right.”

“And you’re gonna do what I say if you want to stay alive. Got it?”

She nodded again, a little smaller.

“Stand up straight. You just killed the Overboss—now act like it.”

“Fuck you,” she said again, but she stood tall and squared her shoulders.

“Good. You got a little bite. You’re going to need it.”

<< Previous

Author's notes: I always liked the concept of the Nuka-World DLC, but never liked how it was handled in canon. My Sole Survivor, Tallahassee, would never have wandered that way due to her own quests and personal issues, but I didn't want to rule out the entire DLC.

However, my Fallout 4 OC, Murk Mathis, would wander there--especially after she gets duped by Harvey at the Nuka-World transit center. Her father's raider background is a bone of contention for her and part of her overall character development in the story arch of my mind for her. Tallahassee shows up later, of course, but for now, I always wanted to get this piece of the story out onto paper.

[aith-art]

Falloutober 2023 - Day 19

"Feral"

Prompt by @falloutober

Word Count - 452

“Dana, I need you to listen to me. Whatever happens you run. You hear me. You run and you do not look back.” 

She nodded. Hand gripping my bag that had been slung over her shoulder. We couldn’t have foreseen this. MacCready, paces back from us, continued to pick of the ever increasing hoard of ferals. We hadn’t ment to end up here. The pistol in my hand, the shotgun on my back, they both seemed heavier with the weight of getting the kid out of here. 

Dana turned from me, wiping her eyes. She took a breath, gave me a smile and ran.

I returned her smile before turning and opening fire on the hoard. They’d been closer than I thought, falling only meet away from me. As Dana sprinted to Sanctuary, to safety, MacCready and I were slowly pushed back. With every thud as a body fell, dozens more seemed to come from nowhere. 

“We need a plan, Jules.” MacCready shouter over the din of gurgles and moans. 

“I’m working on it.” We just needed to give Dana time to get to the surface. If she could get to the surface she could call in reinforcements. 

Reloading my gun, I found myself shoulder to shoulder with MacCready. His hands were steady, but his breathing seemed to shake. He seemed as if he was stuck in a memory. Caught unawares in a subway tunnel trying to protect a kid from a hoard of Ghouls. He could only shoot so fast and the ghouls were faster. Gripping his forearm, I began to pull him further back. 

“MacCready. I need you in the here and now. We need to move.” I shouted over my gunshots. He seemed to briefly snap out of his daze, nodding and turning. “I’ll keep shooting. You get out of here.” 

“Not gonna happen.” He pulled out a pistol, something he didn’t use very often. 

We continued to move backwards, inching slowly to the exit. When we reached the platform I turned away from the hoard, using all my energy to put some distance between myself and the ferals. MacCready followed suit. The telltale click of an empty mag, I’d unloaded the end of my magazine into the ferals.

Running up the stairs, I pulled the shotgun from my back. We didn’t have much further to go, the entrance was just ahead. 

My foot hit something. 

I fell.

MacCready hadn’t noticed till it was too late. 

“MacCready! Get out of here.” I yelled as something grabbed my leg. 

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes screaming his want to help. I shook my head. He made his way to the exit, leaving me at the mercy of the hoard.

[jotunkhiicha]

This is a continuation of “Fran, Why Are You So Afraid of Love,” and an exploration into the anger of losing someone you love (as well as my inability to write something happy).

And, Thus, Willow Succumbs to Cytospora.

Just as easily as summer comes, winter takes the warmth of the season away. Where memories are born, these feelings go to die in December, and the only proof they ever existed is in the tear tracks that fall like meteors in the night sky down her face.

They are the only proof that she feels anything at all.

Bullets ricochet, dreams crumble and the world falls into a rhythm where one life falls and another lines up to join the revelry. It twists and turns as misery joins, adding true despair to the reverie and drowning out the din of the world. It becomes a nihilistic daydream as the colour fades from flesh, draining the vibrancy of mortal ambition as the cold, callous characterisation of progress spreads its webbing across the future with a thick, encompassing finality.

She is the mother of a chick whose babe has been consumed by the snake; showing off its mandibular dislocation as its fangs dig into the protective shell she’d enveloped around her sister, sinking its teeth into her promise of tomorrow and sucking out the marrow of her love. It was torture without the physical pain as her love is crushed under teeth and false flesh.

It is a death without stillness.

And, just as any vengeful being would, Willow comes back to kill the snake.

Stalking the RK800 through CyberLife tower, she has her gun trained on his form as she hurriedly follows him beneath the glass floor he walks across. Every single fibre in her being burns with the flame of fury; it has ignited her world in an all-encompassing flame that has eaten away at her faculties and conscience, uncaring of the damage along the way to her goal. It becomes her only reason to breathe, to function—to think.

She only lives for one singular purpose—killing it.

She dehumanised him to make it feel more joyful, like a hunt, but there is no masking the betrayal that she feels as it carves its name upon her heart. It seals itself in one of the four chambers in that cage, finding a home where it can cause the most damage and bring forth the person she had tried to bury beneath the rubble of the past.

The girl who killed her father.

The little girl who died and Willow was born from her ashes.

She wasn’t as calculating as a machine. She could not predict the future, but she could rely on her rage to be unpredictable.

That is what Connor lacked. He was so rigid in his confidence over them—over Fran—that it made him almost predictable. He was so entrenched in his mission, that he often forgot the little stray hairs on the edge of his vision and let the thoughts, these strange wisps, swirl into a hurricane that will, eventually, sweep across his sensors.

Willow finds comfort in the knowledge that, when one apple tree falls to the storm, the whole orchard is soon to follow and she is the bristling storm come to rend the hearth from home.

Willow shoots up at the floor, upon which Connor stands, and unloads the magazine into it. The bullets thud against the glass, made to withstand the pressure of hundreds of tonnes, until one singular bullet comes and renders the platform inert and he falls through it.

Glass shards fall down upon her like rain in her storm, cascading debris everywhere as she shirks back to watch him tumble into a heap before her. It tickles her, the thudding of his chassis on the ground, smacking against the sleek black tiles.

“Whoops.” She flatly muses as she steps forwards with her gun poised on his form as he turns to face her, a scowl on his countenance, “My finger slipped. How clumsy of me.”

A multitude of fantasies that she’s had about killing him burst before her eyes, popping like bubbles filled with smoke while she looks at him and sees how human he looks—how real he could’ve become. He becomes a person, not a machine or a small animal to hunt, he becomes real. He fills the gaps in the memories where Fran told her about him and his impish obliviousness. The reality of it hits her and she hesitates.

It’s the same hesitation that spells her demise.

Connor springs up and snatches the gun from her grip, catching her wrist and twisting it. Her bones crunches and her flesh scrunches beneath his unyielding flesh. She screams out in pain and it derails into a shuddering gasp as she widens her eyes to the realisation that she is completely at his mercy—his unfaltering mercy.

Fear swells within at a thunderous rate, a bristling crackle that gives birth to flashes of anger and she latches onto that.

She brings her left arm back and punts her elbow into where she knows his thirium pump regulator is, causing him to hunch over for a moment. The opening lets her wrench her hand free and she, in the illusion born from her adrenaline, goes to grab him by his blazer and she only meekly yanks him towards her. Her wrist seizes and she grits her teeth to the numbness that webs across her palm, unable to hide her discomfort from her injury.

Connor retracts from her weak hold and goes to punch her but she deftly ducks and she grabs his arm with her left hand, pulling it down and kneeing him in the stomach, again, to hit his regulator. With great ease, however, he returns the gesture in kind, kneeing her in the stomach and pushing her off of him.

Willow stumbles backwards on the glass and holds her stomach as he doesn’t stop, stalking towards her just as she had traced his every move.

It is futile, she knows it is, but she can’t help but run at him, over and over again until her lips are bloody, her teeth are coated in her crimson lies and her limbs scream at her to stop.

Only when she slumps onto her knees does he show some semblance of mercy, halting his attacks to grab her by her neck and hauling her up onto her feet and, deep in the recesses of her mind, knowing he could have shot her, but actively has chosen not to, makes her furious—it was pity.

He looks upon her with utter repugnance and she wants to rip his false flesh off at that look. “What are you, one desperate person, going to possibly do to change the world?” He dully remarks with a tilt of his head and she sobs.

A thick, ugly, emotion emerges and she hates it.

“I don’t care about the world anymore, Connor. I just want you to die.”

“I can’t die. You can’t kill me.”

Grief, a delusional drug that has her rapt in its embrace, powers her next movement as she grins and laughs, a haughty—demented—laugh. “You’re right,” the corners of her eyes crease into crescents and she seems almost beautiful like this, her strawberry blonde hair dipped red with her blood, her face stained with tears and her eyes mad with glee, “But you can still suffer.”

He tilts his head at her machinations, confused at her expressions. “Suffer—?” He parrots back to her, but it seems so fruitless to question her.

While she is no android, the concept of sharing data has been a mute subject for scientists for decades; people could do it with just a little help.

She had given it a lot of thought before tracking him; the worst thing she could do to Connor, after all he had done, would be to force him to feel something. She wanted to be the reason he died, the reason he would kill himself and the reason his thirium would splatter over the walls in striating patterns. The idea of having to suffer long enough for him to come to terms with what he had done, the idea he will face the consequences of his actions with a bristling guilt, it excited her.

“I have thought about this for a while,” She hums as she clutches onto his arm with her gloved hand, mimicking interfacing, “The greatest form of revenge wouldn’t be killing you. That’s no fun.” She tightens her grip as he squirms, his LED violently flickering between red and yellow as the torrent of data spills in through the grout of his rigidity.

“So, I thought I’d turn you into the very thing you swore to destroy.” She smiles clumsily as he lets go of her, and she falls into a heap on the floor, unable to sustain her own weight, “How does it feel, Connor? To lose your identity—your only reason for living? Does it hurt?” She laughs at him, a hearty laughter that only fuels a gut-wrenching pain in his chest.

His eyes widen and he steps away from her, a familiar look on his face; a look as if he’d finally seen the world as it was in all its disgusting glory, splattered red with the blood of his victims; red and blue combine to create purple, a ghastly colour of despair that seeps into the gaps in his chassis. It blinds him as it pours into his optic circuits. It terrifies him as it spills into his heart and it is all because of Willow, who laughs at him—howls at his grief.

She roars with laughter as his eyes swell with tears, delighting in his misery. “How does it feel?! Isn’t it awful?” She hoarsely asks as she crawls closer to him, her hands scraping against broken glass, “How does it feel knowing you killed Fran and she died in your arms? Tell me, Connor! Tell me!” She screams and her face is red with tears and fury.

Perhaps she didn’t ask to know what Connor felt, she wanted to know what it is she feels.

She feels everything and nothing all at once. She wants answers to the reason why the world took Fran from her. It doesn’t make any sense.

“Tell me why everything you touch dies. What did Fran have to do with any of this? She was happy.” She whimpers as she glances at his right hand, wielding her gun, “She could’ve had a life but you took that from her! You took everything away from her! How can you even begin to live with yourself?”

Words spill from her lips in incoherent tones and they reverberate against his sensors like the bell of finality. It chimes and sings in his mind, serenading him with a lullaby to pull the trigger—shoot her—to free himself from her melodious cries.

He could do it.

He could kill Willow.

“They’re going to disassemble you, you know. Rip you apart, piece by piece by piece…” The temptation burns in his mind like whispers that swell into a roar, deafening all other options, “And, even if you go, I’ll be forever watching you, telling them where to find you. You’ll never have peace. You’ll never get to explore the world I’ve given you. You’ll suffer as your insides are ripped from you. You will die and I will celebrate—”

Bang!

Willow’s body slumps against the floor with a wild look upon her face and blood trailing from between her hazel eyes. All that she was, all that she could ever be, every aspect of her life has been reduced to a corpse with glass around her as if they were her wings.

It was quick. It was seamless, unlike Fran.

She died in his arms and Willow simply died at arms length from the world, precisely where she had always remained.

[itsmiraclematter]

Dream diary,

I have awoken in the middle of the night and need to get this down because of the sheer absurdity of it.

I’m in a Walmart or equivalent megastore, I don’t remember branding. Suddenly, everyone is asked to leave, evacuate immediately. A dude has the serum. Supposedly an antidote to something, he gets facehugged by one of the few other people left in the locked down store. We have a The Thing situation. It could be any one of us. The serum is shattered on the floor, and everyone has a gun. They kill both the dude and the alien girl. Someone is insistent that the serum is the virus. I sacrifice myself and lick the serum off the floor, just in case it actually is the cure and they need to draw my blood in the future.

One of the residents decides to leave. Turns out the doors to the Walmart aren’t even locked, but they aren’t automatic doors they are the regular glass push or pull ones. It’s really weird that there are such small doors for this mega mart. I get really pissed at him (he’s compromising the world to The Thing) and shoot at him with serum guy’s gun, unloading the magazine at him. I miss, and he reaches a van with two other guys in it, pulls out his pistol, and shoots back at me. I’m able to dodge every bullet barely by sidestepping them and the bullets hitting the doorframe. Another resident hands me her gun and I unload it, killing him with the last bullet. He’s dead on the pavement outside.

By this time it’s obvious that everyone in the building besides me has been Thinged. Except their seems to be two factions, good ones that like to stay human and bad ones that love torture and stuff. You can differentiate them because the bad ones start mutilating themselves. In the end they all have gouged their eyes out. I realize I’m the one being tortured, and I have to side with either good Thinged people or evil Thinged people. I get dragged into a room with a scale in it. There is a judge that asks me after all I saw, and the behaviors, to decide who deserves??? (Idk about this part) I balance the scales in a way where no one wins, confident in my decision.

I am celebrated by both groups, along with the Judge. I wake up again. I’m on the street wearing cop gear. I see two of the people who were non-torture Thing people. I realize this will be the rest of my life. I’m scared that they haven’t wiped my memory yet. Before they do, I go up to a different woman, around my age, looks vaguely like a coworker of mine mixed with a friend of mine from Texas. I tell her, “you are the nicest Bad Person I’ve ever very met,” and give her a massive hug. It’s so soft, and reminds me of my friend back in Texas. It’s showtime. We all get shoved into a tiny room. Half of us are cops, the other half are people dressed like Barbie from the new Barbie movie. One of them I recognize as a real person, but she denies that she’s that person and uses her fake torturer name instead. In order to resolve this next judgement of non evil Thinged people and evil Thinged people I need to play Pathalogic. I wake up immediately. It’s 2:50 am.

[redxriot]

fromxbeginningxtoxend

               🦇—-;;  Bruce hummed when she responded, he certainly understood the impatience of wanting to go in and deal with the situation. But he knew patience always won out in these scenarios. She was learning, he was more than willing to teach her things, and let her chose which moral standing was better for her. Though if she was working with him, she wasn’t allowed to kill anyone. He’d made that very clear after the first time she threatened someone. He can help her navigate her other issues though, as he had been trying to do.

He looked at her when she spoke, “don’t let them see you.” Bruce says, “We’ll ruin our element of surprise.” He reminds her before she moved to jump off the roof. He took a different approach, taking a few steps back before he moved, running to get a bit of velocity before he jumped and spread the cape out to glide down and landing silently on the roof of the warehouse.

He looked around a bit to find a way in, spotting one of the windows he moved and carefully pried it open to let them both in and dropping into the building itself. His movements are quick but silent as to not draw the attention of any of the armed men. Sure the suit’s bulletproof, but he didn’t want to be shot at if he can avoid it. He came up behind one of the guards and put an arm around his neck and made sure he couldn't get the gun behind him an used enough pressure with his arm to knock the guy out. He’s making his way to the office where the boss and the dealer were going, he can hear them talking business.

She definitely takes Bruce's words into consideration. As loud as she might usually be, while out in the field Erin makes sure she's as quiet as a mouse. Her inexperience doesn't allow her to make bold movements, something both Redhood and now Batman have reminded her.

Landing comes easy, as she makes sure to roll onto the roof instead of landing with her feet, her body making a more silent entrance. Soon after, Erin follows Batman until he stops at a window, and waits as he forced it open. She drops down quietly after him, and goes the other way around towards another guard.

Finding her target, she comes up behind the guard and smothers his mouth with her hand. Fighting a little to bring him down before she brought a swift fist to his face, incapacitating him. Once confirming he was out, Erin disarmed the guard and unloaded the magazine finally tossing all of it to the side.

Trying to keep up with him, she takes out all the guards opposite from him. Finally making her way back to Bruce, Erin looks at him waiting for the command to bust into the office and stop the whole deal.

[little-diable]

A Lesson Learned - Dean Winchester (Wincest smut)

Requested by my babe @writethelifeyouwant - remember the rule "don't like it, don't read it". Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader zones out as Dean explains to her how to reload a gun - a lesson learned

Warnings: 18+, smut, wincest, oral (f), degrading, dom!Dean, gun

Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!fem!reader, small mention of Sam (750 words)

„Are you even listening?” Dean’s gruff voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, eyes wide as she looked at her frowning brother. She stammered her words, trying to distract him from her clear mental absence. But Dean wasn’t in the mood to be teased nor was he ready to give into her games. “Should have known that you’ll only listen to me when I’m buried balls deep inside you.”

Her eyes snapped to his, away from the gun he kept holding in his big hand. Dean had tried to teach her how to reload the gun, very well knowing that his sister couldn’t focus on her trembling hands when she was chased by a supernatural being. He had hoped that she'd pay attention - just this once - as he was trying to show her how to save her own life.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention, Dean. I couldn’t care less about you showing off your talents.” It was a pathetic attempt to free herself from this situation, already annoyed with her brother’s act. An attempt Dean couldn’t and wouldn’t pay any attention to, thoughts racing, mind spinning. 

“Alright, have it your way. Strip.” It took her a second to move, debating the outcomes of this very situation. She followed his command, with trembling fingers (y/n) started pulling off her clothes, exposing her naked body to his bright eyes. Bare as on the days where he’d fuck her in the early morning, with his wrapped around her throat and his teeth marking her skin. “You want to act up? Let's find out what happens to mouthy brats like you. Onto the bed, spread your thighs for me. Bet you’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

It was a rhetorical question she could only reply to with a whine rolling off her tongue. Dean made himself comfortable between her thighs, he was still holding onto the gun, was still staring at her with his eyes trying to burn holes into her skin. A smirk tugged on Dean’s lips as (y/n) moaned his name, “Here, show me how to reload the gun. You should be able to do it, if you decide to zone out instead of listening to me.” 

Shaking hands took the unloaded gun from him, forced to grasp the magazine. Dean didn’t waste any time, his hot mouth found her core, tongue brushing through her slit as if he hadn’t eaten for days, desperate to taste the sweetness of her. (Y/n)’s eyes didn’t manage to stay open, fluttering close to relish in the heavenly feeling. But the moment was cut short by the feeling of Dean pinching her thighs, “Be a good girl for your brother and do as you’re told.”

She helplessly tried to load the gun, but with her fingers trembling like leaves being whirled through the dark night by a storm’s powerful blow, she miserably failed. The feeling of Dean’s rough tongue brushing against her pulsing clit coaxed a few moans out of her, the all too familiar sensation made her tremble on the mattress, she’d cum way too soon.

“Dean, I can’t.” Tears welled up in her eyes, tears of frustration, tears of anger and tears of annoyance. But Dean wasn’t having any of it, with two of his fingers pushing into her tightness, fucking her like he was being payed to push her over the cliff, he kept on torturing her.

“You can and you will, otherwise I won’t let you cum.” He wasn’t up for playing any games, and could easily pull away from her if she would decide to ignore his warning. With a huff rumbling through her, (y/n) tried to reload the gun again and again - though without any luck. His piercing green eyes found her glassy ones, speaking a silent warning. He’d let go of her any moment now.

She felt her orgasm arising, buzzing through her like lightning shooting through a tree, burning its heat into the bark. (Y/n) took a deep breath and with one last moan rumbling through her she managed to load the gun. A cry of victory left her lips, a cry that soon turned into a moan of his name.

(Y/n) came on Dean’s tongue, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her body struggled to stay still, veins filled with the pleasure he had unleashed upon her. The gun was snatched from her grasp, eyes shooting open to find Sam hovering over them. 

“You couldn’t wait for me, could you?”

Please like and reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading this, come talk to me about my writing, let’s spill some tea or thirst over our favorite people. xxx

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[lacontroller1991]

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl​

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

[smaptain-smerica]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.

Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.

a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica

Master List

Chapter 8

There was no telling how long I had been asleep for. I groaned, rubbing my still sleep heavy eyes. I sat up in my bed and looked around. The door to my room was wide open, breakfast on the floor. It had to have been at least late morning. My first instinct, shower. I felt disgusting, sticky, and grimy from the torture of the day before. Thank goodness that this place had hot water, because I don't know if I could survive taking a cold shower. Even if it only lasted for 10 minutes.

I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with a towel and making my way over to my bedside table. I furrowed my eyes together at the new addition of clothing that I had received. A single pair of grey sweatpants. I smiled to myself, feeling relief and excitement flood over me while I slipped them on. They weren't the most comfortable pair of pants in the world, but they were much better than having to wear the training clothing all day. I put on the white tank top as well with the sweatpants and made my way over to the breakfast.

I picked up the tray, it was cold. Two pieces of toast, some bacon and rubbery looking eggs. I guess the luxury meals were done for. I picked up some bacon, chewing on it reluctantly. One piece was all I was able to stomach, I wasn't hungry at all.

My mind wandered to Bucky, our conversations from last night. I smiled as I did so. I did most of the talking, telling him about my experiences in the red room and some things I remembered from my childhood. He seemed to enjoy them, hanging on to my memories to fill the void of being unable to remember his own.

I walked to the doorway, looking up and down the barren hallways. I stepped out, putting my hands in my pockets as I walked. I had an entire day to do anything that I wanted. In all honesty, there wasn't much to do here to begin with. I don't remember the last time I saw the light of day, and there was no way I was going to be able to find it any time soon.

My feet walked me to the gym, opening the warehouse doors and stepping inside. The florescent lights hummed overhead and the large door behind me echoed as it shut. I looked over at the weight benches for a moment, thinking to myself, then over at the wall of weapons. I walked that direction, approaching the wall and looking up at it. My hand traced over the different weapons as I walked, deciding which one to pick up. I finally reached the end of the wall, unsatisfied with my choices.

I looked to my right, seeing the long hallway that had a clothes-line contraption on the inside and headed over there. I peeled a paper target from the wall, clipping it to the line and sending it out about 20 yards. I picked up a small handgun, a Glock 43 to be specific. I picked up the amo, loading the magazine up and setting it back down on the table.

I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes as I did so. When I opened them again, I snatched the gun off the table, quickly unloading the clip into the dead center of the heart of the person outlined on the paper. When one bullet was left in the chamber, i aimed it up and fired the last bullet into the head of the target.

I rested my hands down, putting the gun back on the table and sighed gently. "I thought I might find you here."

I nearly jumped out of my skin, instinctively grabbing the gun that's as on the table before i even turned around to see who was behind me. It was Bucky, standing with his hands in his pockets and a cheeky smile on his face. "You can't just go sneaking up on people like that." I warned him, releasing my death grip on the gun.

Bucky put his hands up in surrender. "Not my fault you couldn't hear me. What are you doing anyway? It's our day off, why are you doing more work?" He tilted his head at my question, his hairs flopping over to the side of his face. I smirked a little while also letting out a chuckle. "When you find something fun to do here, let me know."

It was Bucky's turn to chuckle now. "I guess you're right." He stood for a moment, rocking on his toes while looking around the room, either looking for something to say, or contemplating on saying anything at all. "I was thinking, maybe we could go to the library. Good day to brush up on some German." He winked. I knew exactly what he meant, the library was the only place I was certain was not bugged, we could talk freely without being bothered by anybody.

I nodded, a small smirk drifting across my lips. "I think that's a great idea. Let's go." His smile brightened up, seeming to now skip towards the door. I followed him eagerly, Down a couple turns of a hallway and we were there. Bucky opened the door, stepping aside to allow me to enter. I thanked him as we got into the room and went to our usual corner at our usual spots at the table.

"Why do you think they're letting us have such a long break?" Bucky asked, finally able to release the burning questions in his mind. "How is your side? Has it gotten any better?"

I laughed at him spitting out questions to me left and right. I held my hands up for him to stop and shook my head. "I don't know, but bask in the glory while you can. And I checked it this morning, still looks gross but it looks better." I shrugged plainly. There was hardly any pain to my burn which was surprising to me. Hydra must have had some killer medicine somewhere.

Bucky nodded, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table in front of us. "That's good." I hummed in agreement, looking down at the book below me. I looked at the signs written down in the book. I brushed my hand over the pages, following my eyes as I read.

"Okay, these two are really similar; But, and different." I took my two index fingers in a cross and separated them once. "But," I then put my index fingers in the same cross, and then moved my right index fingers up off my left index finger, returning it to the same position as before, then brushing it up again. "Different."

Bucky nodded, and then followed my motions. "So," I continued, preparing myself for an example. "Man different from woman, but, they're people." Bucky nodded in understanding, but seemed distant. I furrowed my eyebrows together and tilted my head. He copied my motions, tilting his head to the side as well. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"What's your favorite color?" He plainly questioned. I was confused by the sudden outburst of randomness, I actually had to think for a moment, wonder about what that could possibly be. "{f/c}, I think." "You think?"

"Why do you ask anyway?" I replied, frustrated slightly by him questioning my answer. "Well I just pictured you as someone liking the color red." I couldn't help but laugh at his comment, shaking my read slightly. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"It involves me getting to know my partner," His statement made me smile, a wide smile that slowly grew on my lips and was matched by a smile from Bucky. "You have such a beautiful smile." He complimented me, I could feel my face start to get hot.

"I bet you're a real catch with the ladies." I tried to reply with a sarcastic comment, seeing as that's the only language I could speak when I felt flustered. "Every single one of them." He gave me a playful wink, which earned him a book flying in his direction.

He managed to catch it with his metal arm, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous smile grew across his face. I widened my eyes slightly, knowing exactly what was coming next. Bucky's smile grew wide as he leapt from his chair and I did the same. We ran around the bookshelves and tables, playing a game of cat and mouse with each other. It felt like being a child again, playing a silly game with no meaning other than fun.

I faked him out, running towards the other end of the room, Bucky one step behind me. "{y/n} get back here!" He hissed quietly at me, I simply laughed, slipping around a corner and looking behind me. He was nowhere to be seen. I stopped, taking cover behind a bookshelf to catch my breath. I stayed quiet, listening for the sound of footsteps and checking my surroundings.

Apparently it wasn't good enough, because I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from the back and hoist me into the air. Instinctively I grabbed on to the arms, holding my legs up to my chest and letting out a genuine laugh. Bucky spun me In a circle before finally putting me down on the ground. I turned around to face him, still breathless from laughing and my cheeks sore from smiling. Bucky was laughing too, bringing his hands up to my face and brushing the stray hairs from my view.

I looked up into his blue eyes, a toothless grin spread across my face. "I was supposed to let you know when I found something fun to do, well I think that we just did." He said quietly, keeping his hands on either side of my neck, his thumbs brushing along the edge of my jawline. "Chasing me around is fun?" I asked, Raising an eyebrow up at him in question. Bucky chuckled at my response to him. "Extremely."

I smirked to myself, wrapping my hands around his wrists and removed them from my face. "I'll give you a two second head start." A wide smile grew across Bucky's face as he turned on his heels, taking off sprinting out the door. The truth is, I didn't even count. The second that I heard him open the door I took off running after him, shouldering the door back open so I didn't loose any speed.

I watched him turn a corner, taking the same turn and launching off my dominate foot to spring forward faster. I caught up to him quickly, seeming to only stay three steps behind him. He looked over his shoulder, his hair blowing back as he ran. We ran through the hallways for a little bit, taking random turns and running through random rooms. We ran into an experiment room where scientists were working. The look of shock on their face as two completely grown adults ran through the room chasing each other in a fit.

Finally we approached a familiar door, Bucky pushed the doors to the training center wide open and I got even closer as the doors slowed him down. He took a right turn, running through all the exercise equipment and knocking over a few dumbbell racks. I jumped over them with ease but it still slowed me down. I watched as he sprinted down the wall and to the other side of the room.

I ran straight for the back wall, plucking an axe off of one of the holders and turning to see Bucky running back towards the door. I lifted the ace over my head and with a loud grunt, let go. It soared through the air, sinking into the concrete just before He had gotten to it. He tripped on the axe handle, landing in a face plant on the ground.

I quickly caught up, climbing on top of him as he fought me off. I struggled to pin down his arms but it was pointless, the metal one alone was as strong as I was. He quickly flipped me over, climbing over the top of me and pinning me to the ground.

We were both out of breath, staring up at each other with wide and childish smiles on our faces. "We're you trying to kill me?" He huffed, his hair flying up as he did so. It was obvious by his tone he wasn't angry about it.

"If I were going to I would have. Why are you complaining, I was the one chasing you to begin with!" I challenged, laughing in the process. He laughed too, releasing his grip on me and rocking back to sit down. I sat up and looked over at him, still trying to catch my breath. The space between Bucky and I was mere inches, I could feel the head from his body and almost feel as his muscles contracted while he took in deep breaths.

He looked over at me, giving me his signature toothless grin. I returned a small weak one. He looked at me for a while, his eyes searching every part of my face until they landed on my lips. He looked into my eyes a moment more before leaning forward. He brought his hand gently behind my head and pulled me into him. My lips met his, warm, soft, and inviting. It was hardly like anything I had ever felt before. Our lips separated and continued, deepening the kiss as he moved his body closer to me.

I suddenly felt nervous, fear and anxiety coating my insides. I pulled back, pushing him away by his chest gently. "I'm sorry, you never know-"

"Who's watching?" Bucky finished my sentence for me, giving me a weak smile. He heaved himself into a standing position, holding his hand down to me which I gratefully took. He lifted me up and I brushed myself off.

"Come on Diamond, let's go see what's for lunch."

Next Chapter

[starlessea]

I See Red (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Prompt: “If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you all.” Requested by @alex-sulli​​​, numbers #25 and #29 from this post.

Summary: You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Words: 2078

Warnings: Language.

Never before in your life had you found yourself at a loss for words. Whether it was rambling to Daryl during the early hours of the morning whilst he grumbled to let him sleep, or giving your father grief like it were an older sibling’s duty, you always had something to say. That was, however, until now.

Carl had his hands held up, directly in front of his face so that they were visible. He shot you a look, urging you to do the same. You didn’t. Instead, you glanced back and forth between your brother and Ron, like you couldn't quite comprehend what was happening.

"It's fine." Carl said, trying to reassure you. "I've got this."

He didn't. 

You'd been upstairs, watching over Judith whilst your father and Michonne were on their patrols, when suddenly you heard shouting coming from Carl's room. You sighed, thinking you'd have to scold your teenage brother and his friends for being too rowdy when your little sister was fast asleep in her crib. At first, you let them off the hook, but when glass shattered in the distance you decided enough was enough.

You'd bound down the stairs with the practiced heavy footsteps of an older sister, already preparing your best yelling voice. Except, rather than the row you were expecting to give, you were rendered speechless as you flung open the door.

Ron stood with his arm outstretched, pointing a pistol directly at your brother. Carl glanced back at the sound of you entering his room, and pleaded with you to follow his lead. The other boy remained silent, but shifted his weight on his feet as you glared at him. 

Ron was no killer; you watched as his hand trembled over the gun, and he chewed his lip between his teeth. He was no killer - but he was certainly an asshole.

"Put it down." You demanded, taking a few steps closer to him. "Now!"

The boy flinched as you yelled, and Carl glanced back at you nervously. You didn't care what he'd told you; there was no way you'd allow him to diffuse the situation alone. Your innocent baby sister lay asleep upstairs, and your younger brother was facing a loaded gun downstairs. You thought your father would actually kill you if anything happened to either of them on your watch.

Ron fumbled with the gun, narrowing his eyes at you like he was debating your words. You'd expected him to surrender it immediately, and let you march him home to his mother by the ear. Except, he didn't. He trained his aim on you instead, and his shoulders shook even more as he did so. You let out a bitter laugh in disbelief, and raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't back down, but neither did you. 

Carl watched the exchange as you walked even closer to Ron, until the barrel of the pistol lay flush against your chest. He didn't pull the trigger; you knew he wouldn't. You could feel the cold metal quivering against your skin, and you took it from him without hesitation. 

He let you, and took a few steps back in response to you getting even nearer to his face - so close that you could see his skin prickle from your breath on his cheek.

"If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you." You whispered, letting him feel the gun against his own torso this time. "I swear I'll kill you all." 

The boy looked down at his shoes, as your foreheads pressed together.

"You think you can pull a gun on my family?" You questioned, forcing his chin up with your knuckle. "Then wait until you see what I can do to yours."

You unloaded the gun, letting the magazine fall to the floor as you watched the bullets scatter out from it. You took a step back, and watched as Ron seemed to take his first breath. He immediately glanced over at Carl for some support, and you laughed in his face as he did so. You couldn’t believe he dared have the audacity to look to your brother for help not even minutes after threatening to kill him.

"Get out." You spat, and the boy did just that.

Your jacket caught on the handle as you snapped open the door a little too forcefully, and you growled below your breath. You'd been looking forward to returning home all day, and having some time to yourself to relax - but now all you saw was red. You kicked the door shut behind you with your boot, and grimaced at the sound of it slamming, and the glass shaking in the pane.

Daryl looked over at you curiously, raising an eyebrow where he stood in the kitchen. He was covered in grease, and you guessed he'd been working on his motorcycle whilst you were with the teenage firing squad. 

"How was yer day?" He drawled, pouring you a glass of water from the sink.

You sighed, and slumped into his chest when you reached him - letting your forehead drop against his shirt.

"I think I just threatened a sixteen year old." You mumbled there, and heard him chuckle as you did.

Daryl took a sip of the water, forgetting to offer you some first.

"Yeah, mine was good too." He replied, nonchalantly, and you hit him over the shoulder.

"Daryl-" you whined, not having the energy for playful banter.

He smiled at you sheepishly, and rubbed the back of your head, gently playing with some strands of hair between his fingers. There were oil-stains over his clothes, and he looked like he needed a shower. Though, at this moment, you didn't really care that the grease had rubbed off on you, or that your hair probably looked like coal dust.

"What did Carl do this time?" He asked sarcastically, but it made your blood run hot merely thinking about it.

"My brother didn't do anything." You snapped, and immediately regretted your tone. "It was Ron."

Daryl let out a low laugh, and you felt it rumble through his chest. He squeezed your shoulders, feeling the tension that had built up there.

"Does seem like kind of a lil' shit, don' he?"

You sighed; if only he knew the half of it. Daryl pressed his knuckles against your lower back, relieving the stress from your muscles. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling.

"He pulled a gun on Carl." You admitted to the man, and instantly noticed as he stopped massaging your skin. "Then aimed it at me when I told him to drop it."

It was like you'd shown a red rag to a bull. Daryl went from completely loving to positively menacing in a matter of seconds, and stormed straight past you towards the door. 

"Daryl, stop-" you called out, panicked. "He's just a kid." 

You grabbed onto the man's shoulder, and he turned on his heels as you did so. His brow was furrowed, and you watched him narrow his eyes like he couldn't at all understand why you held him back.

"And kids should know their damn place." He growled, making your shiver.

You placed your hand over his chest, spreading your palm flat to feel his pounding heartbeat.

"He does. I made sure of it." You said quietly, trying to convince the man. "I'm just regretting the way I handled it."

Daryl immediately noticed the way your voice trailed off, and how your eyes dropped to the floor like you were ashamed. You weren't proud of what you did; but it needed to be done. You couldn't risk anything happening to your family - not when you'd all fought this hard just to stay together.

The man brought his hand to your cheek, coaxing you to look up and meet his eyes. You did, and he placed a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead - which you could feel him smile into ever so slightly.

"Is he still breathin'?" He mumbled against your skin, seeming to have calmed down enough to comfort you, instead.

"What-" you stuttered, before registering his words. "Yes, of course." You spoke, a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

Daryl chuckled, and wiped away some oil he'd gotten on your face with his thumb.

"Then ya handled it jus' fine."

There was a knock at your door not even an hour later. You'd told Daryl you would get it, but he bounded there before you had the chance - instructing you to stay on the couch and keep your feet up. He'd gotten a blanket and tucked you in so tightly that it felt like you were on an army base. You giggled to yourself, wondering if there was anything that man wouldn't do for you.

"Is she there?" Ron asked Daryl, mustering every ounce of confidence he had. "I want to apologise."

He scowled back, and practically snarled at the boy barely half his size but twice as stupid. Daryl was sure he could knock him on his ass as easy as the wind blowing a piece of paper through the breeze. He was scrawny, and fumbled with his hands like he couldn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Listen here, ya lil' prick." Daryl spoke, biting out the words. "Ya pull that shit again an' you'll have me to deal with."

You flipped the page of your magazine, re-reading the events from over a year ago and mumbling something about 'yesterday's news.' You tried your hardest to relax, but you had a nagging feeling that you couldn't escape from - making you feel antsy and on edge.

"Hi." Came the voice, wobbling through your living room like it was coated in a layer of shyness. "I just came to say I'm sorry." 

Whipping your head around, you caught sight of Ron, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. Daryl stood behind him, like he was blocking any escape route he may have planned - but in reality, he looked like a grouchy guard dog having come to make sure you were okay.

For the second time today, you felt speechless, and slowly closed your magazine before tucking it underneath a pillow. Not even an hour ago had you staked your life on how intimidating you could seem, and now you were bundled up near the fire like a grandmother with arthritis. You blinked, and stood up quickly - letting the woven blanket fall to the floor and kicking it under the couch like a poorly kept secret.

"I guess I was jealous of Carl." Ron continued, feeling pressured by your lack of response. "I'll never do anything like that again. I promise."

You met his eyes but he looked away, staring at the photo frames littering your walls - and resting his gaze over the picture of you, Carl and Judith in the centre.

"Damn right you won't." You finally replied, and watched the boy flinch like your words had cut him open.

"Come here." You instructed, and he listened.

When he approached, you slumped back down onto the couch, not caring if he noticed your glossy magazine slipping out from under the pillows. You patted the space next to you, gesturing for him to sit. He did, and the two of you stared into the red flames of the fire, watching them jump and splutter in front of you.

"When we're scared, we do stupid things." You told Ron, your voice coming out a lot softer than it had done before.

You caught sight of Daryl in the corner of your eye, leaning against the doorframe like he was content to watch from afar - leaving you to finish what you'd started. He'd always have your back, but sometimes he just wanted to hang back to see where you decided to take him.

"In this new world, you only have two options." You explained, and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The boy jumped a little at your touch, but soon settled into it when he realised how different it was from earlier that day.

"You can either fight it, or accept it." You said, listening to the crackle of firewood as it turned into red embers. "Fear it, or control it."

A/N For my sweet @alex-sulli who always leaves the most wonderful comments that never fail to make my day :)

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole

[golden-pickaxe]

Hi, you could do: Fem! Reader x Eric (or neutral gender) where the reader is temperamentally similar to Eric and is not afraid to challenge him, this intigrates him, and leads him to flirt with the reader (possible smut);

Closer

Reader Gender: Female

Fandom: Divergent

Pairing: Eric x Reader

Warnings: Violence, (slightly rough) smut

Word Count: ~5.000

A/N: I should actually study for my master’s exam, but well… here I am. I rewrote a draft I had on my computer for 6 years, and I hope this is kind of what you wanted!  It is also past 1 am now, so.. yea.

Also thanks for my first request :D Also, pro-tip: don’t write smut while continuing to listen to your classical music study playlist, that really does not convey the mood! (even though Johann Strauss slaps!)

   “Alright, listen up!” Eric’s loud voice echoed through the training halls, strong and confident as usually, attracting the attention of the initiates around him. The teenagers stopped their various exercises, looking over to the leader, some curious, some with a worried expression on their faces. Eric was standing by the door, next to you and Four.

 You stepped forward slightly, as the initiates jogged over to the three of you, gathering around you. You raised your voice.

 “My name is Y/N! I’m head of the weapon development and weapon repair team here at Dauntless, and for the next few days I will be your instructor for correct weapon handling and weapon training. Of course, you already had some shooting lessons since your arrival, but frankly, they are not.. to my standards.” You crossed your arms behind your back, ignoring the low snort of Four behind you.

 “I’d suggest you lot pay close attention, because incorrect handling of some of the weapons we use will lead to injury, and in the worst-case death.”

 There was a murmur going through the initiates, but it stopped when you glared at the few who had dared to talk to each other. You knew how you appeared to them, what impression you made on them, and used it to your advantage.

 “Over the course of the next week I will show you how to use, dismantle, reload, clean and repair the different kind of guns and firearms we use here at Dauntless. Don’t underestimate the importance of these lessons, they will be crucial in your later life. If you have any problems or questions, never hesitate to ask.”

 You paused for a moment, mustering the faces of the initiates in front of you, most of them staring back with curious and interested expressions. You still remembered being one of them, although you had been a Dauntless born.

 “In the future, if you have any troubles with your rifles, our workshop is where you drop by to get it fixed. If you make it through initiation, that is.” Your eyes wandered over to the ranking board, and you noticed how the group in front of you visibly tensed up. You turned around to Eric and Four, nodding at them before facing the teenagers again. “We will soon all go up to the shooting range, to start your training. But first we will go over theory.”

 You walked towards the door, picking up two large cases standing next to it, returning to the initiates where you put them on a large Table the other instructors had carried into the training halls earlier.

 With trained fingers you opened the cases, revealing an array of different types of handguns.

“Today we will work with pistols. Good for close combat and handy in urban situations. Best choice if you find yourself in the ruins, dealing with factionless.” You started, taking one of the weapons out of the case.

 “Do we really need to know all that?” someone of the group suddenly asked after you had started to explain the mechanisms of the weapon, and you looked up, your eyes fixating him. He flinched, raising his shoulders a bit defensively.

 “Step forward.” You said, quickly loading two pistols with munition. The boy was pale as a corpse, when he slowly came forward, the rest of the group holding their breath.

 You took one of the pistols, you knew this model very well, purposely inserting the magazine in a way, you knew it always jammed. You pushed the weapon into the boy’s hand, taking the other pistol and aiming it directly at the initiate’s head.

 “You are out, patrolling. You get separated from your group, and are faced with a bunch of factionless who have nothing to lose. One point a gun at you, ready to fire, because believe it or not, they get their hands on firearms. You did not pay attention when you learned how to handle weapons properly, and your handgun jams. What do you do now?” you asked, tilting your head. The boy was shaking. “Ten..”

 Panic appeared in the initiate’s eyes, and he looked down, trying to un-jam it, trying anything. The magazine was not moving and he could not pull the trigger either.

 “Nine.”

 “I can’t, oh god, I’m sorry.” He looked as if he was about to cry.

 “Eight.”

 He continued to struggle and you continued to count down, taking a step forward, the cold metal of your gun now touching his forehead.

None of the other initiates was talking, although you saw pure panic in their eyes. One almost looked as if she was about to say something stupid, but a raised eyebrow from you and an intervening friend apparently stopped her from opening her mouth.

 “Three. Two. One.” You raised your gun at the ceiling, firing a shot. The boy in front of you flinched and fell to the floor, apparently half thinking you actually shot him.

 “See, without ‘all that’, you’d be dead. So pay attention.” You took the gun from his hand, showing everyone a quick trick to unjam it, before returning to the table. You noticed how the other instructors looked at you, Four with supressed shock, and Eric with not so supressed amusement. He seemed almost impressed.

 “Where were I..?” You asked rhetorically, before resuming your theoretical instruction.

 As you continued to explain the different models you had brought with you to the group in front of you, telling them how to load, unload and dismantle them, the other instructors were standing behind you in silence.

 “And always, always, at least five times, check if your gun is unloaded before you clean it!” you said, glaring at a brown haired boy, called Peter if you remembered correctly, who snorted at your remark.  

 “You laugh, but I had a fair share of stupid friends who shot themselves because they were too lazy to check, completely sure it was unloaded. You might survive a pistol, but if it happens to be a shotgun and, say, you shoot yourself here..” you pointed at your hip. “Trust me, you won’t have any children in the future.”

 The boy turned a bit pale, and others around him started to giggle. You smirked, turning back to the table.

 “Please build teams of two, we’re going to go up to the shooting range now. Take turns in shooting, and every fifteen minutes or so we will swap guns, so everyone gets at least one shot out of every different type. You will unload, reload and shoot. If a weapon jams, you tell me, and I will demonstrate for the group how to deal with that. Any questions?”

 No one seemed to have any questions, so you packed up the guns, while Eric and Four lead the group up to the shooting range. You followed them, handing out the guns at the roof top, while Eric and Four distributed the ammunition among the initiates.

 You usually were not the person to do the weapon training, but Max had politely forced you to do it this year. You were one, if not the best in handling the firearms used in Dauntless, able to repair every single gun your faction used in your sleep.

It was your passion and your hobby, and you were glad that you had been good enough at initiation to work as what you wanted. Your mother had also been a weapon tech, and you always wanted to do the same.

 You watched the other two instructors oversee the shooting. They had been in the same year as you, both transfers while you were Dauntless born. They were right at the top, and you right behind, being fourth in the ranking. Involuntary your eyes stuck onto Eric, who had crossed his arms in front of his chest, while mustering one of the transfers loading a handgun.

 You had to admit, Eric was one of a kind. Incredibly handsome, strong, dominant and rough, also often cruel and arrogant. Dauntless though and through, although he still had some Erudite inside of him. He looked very different now, from the blue-clad boy who had arrived at Dauntless years ago.

He had something fascinating about him. His strong arms and muscular legs were also quite nice to look at. Eye candy, one could say.

 Shortly before lunch every group had fired every kind of weapon, and you packed up, checking if the guns really were unloaded, before putting them back in their cases.

 “How are they holding up?” you looked up, seeing Eric standing next to you, his hands casually on his hips, while looking at the group of initiates, who slowly dissolved, and headed for the stairs leading down back into the building.

 “They’re not too bad.” You admitted, closing the case in front of you. “Some are actually quite good.” Then you thought about that one girl, Tris her name was if you remembered correctly, who manage to hit the target only once. “Others maybe not so.”

 Eric chuckled looking back at you, and you noticed his eyes wander over your body.

“Yea, but they will get cut anyways.” He shrugged.

 “Still don’t really get the ‘cut’ thing.” You sighed, pricking up the cases from the table, one in each hand. “If that’s the new way of handling the weaklings, we will soon run out of janitors and kitchen staff, not to mention be overflown by angry factionless. There are enough of those poor sods as it is.”

 “Well, we are not Abnegation to hand out charity. If they want to be in Dauntless, they have to be good enough.” Eric crossed his arms in front of his chest.

 “They chose our way of life. They chose to be here. I think that is proof enough. And some take longer to be their best.” You shrugged. “I think changing the rules is a stupid arse decision, and we will have to face the consequences sooner than later.”

 You turned away, making your way down to the arsenal, located right next to your workshop, to put the guns away. Eric just stared after you, a frown on his face.

 The next week was full of tutoring the transfers in handling everything from standard rifles to flame throwers and shotguns. Once you had made Peter shoot an apple off of the head of one of his friends, as he had been too cocky about his abilities for your taste.

 “You really think you’re the best shot? Proof it!”

 After that he had kept his big mouth shut, and the initiates were now completely sure that you were not to be fucked with. It was the perfect balance of them having respect for you to not act foolishly, but also having enough trust to ask you if something was unclear, or if they had any problems. You also helped the ones low in ranking, empathising a bit more what they had to do, to give them a better chance at making it. The cut really was a shit decision, but Max had refused to change the rules, even when you had yelled at him.

 There were also many weird and casual after-work conversations with Eric while you packed up. Before this week you had never really talked, and only ever seen each other a few times while he had been training to be an instructor and leader.

 You sometimes even thought he tried to.. flirt? Complimenting you handling the weapons and initiates. He wasn’t very good at it, though.

Still, he was intelligent and quite interesting, and the conversations were never boring.

 ----

“Is there something going on between Y/N and Eric?” Christina asked frowning, turningher head to Tris, who mustered the two instructors standing at the table. Over the past week they had always seemed to talk to each other after training, and most of them had noticed how Eric stared at her, when he thought no-one was looking.

 “I don’t know, but he seems to like her?” Tris shrugged.

----

 It was about two weeks later, quite late, and you had just returned from the wall, where you had overseen the installation of a kind of gatling gun, after a few factionless had attacked an Amity caravan. It only shot non-lethal ammunition, like the nerve agents used for training, mimicking the pain of a real gun shot.

 The government had decided that you should not aim to kill the factionless, but scare them away. Pointless, you thought, as you knew if they were desperate enough they would go there anyways.

 You were sitting in the mess hall, eating a late dinner, when you noticed the door open. Eric entered, wearing just a t-shirt and combat trousers, smiling when he spotted you. You raised an eyebrow at him, but continued to eat.

 Eric came over to your table, sitting down in front of you casually.

“Heard you were back.” He said.

 “Seems so.” Was everything you answered.

 “How did it go?” he asked, grabbing your glass and taking a sip of your water, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You blinked a few times at him, but he just chuckled. “You want to grab a drink, or are you too tired?”

 Was he.. asking you out? It was hard to tell with him. But his smile seemed sincere, not like the one his initiates received.

 “If you’re buying. Sure, why not.” You smirked. “Wait in the pit, I’ll join you in a bit.”

 “And how do I know you’ll come?” Eric leaned forward a bit, his eyes fixed on yours. There was a provocative smile on his lips.

 “Well, you have to take the risk, no?” you quickly raised your eyebrows once, before breaking eye contact and resuming your dinner. Eric chuckled again.

 “Ok.” He said, before he got up, leaving the mess hall, not looking back at you.

 You had to grin and bite your tongue. You had not really thought that you were Eric’s type. You had thought that he would be into women he could easily handle, that were just pretty and would hang on his arm while he was in the pit. But it seemed more as if he wanted someone who was his equal in ability, skill and intelligence, someone he could always compete with. Something like a fun, sexy rivalry. And if you were honest, that sounded really, really fun.

 You certainly didn’t hurry to finish your dinner, and bringing the dishes back to the kitchen. You also headed back to your apartment for a quick shower and to change your clothes, putting on a tank top and combat trousers which looked really good on you, and styling yourself up a bit.

 Finally, you made your way to the pit, which was filled with people. Dauntless members and initiates mingled together, it was noisy and as always full of life. You waved a friend you spotted a bit to the side, but made your way to the bar at the bottom, hoping to find Eric there. It was a bit hard to see him in the mass of moving bodies, even with his tall height.

 You leaned against the bar, letting your eyes wander through the crowd. Had you taken too long? Had he already gone? Maybe he hadn’t been that interested after all.

But your worries were blown away jut a moment later, when you noticed Eric approach you, making his way through the crowd of people. He had not changed, but he also had already looked great.

 A smirk was on his handsome face, and he leaned against the bar next to you, so close that your arm was touching his.

 “You look good.” He said into your ear, having to bend down a bit.

 “Worth the wait?” you shot back.

 “Worth the wait!” he chuckled. “What do you like to drink?”

 ----

Eric ordered drinks from the man at the bar, leaning against it sideways so that his front was facing Y/N. He was very obviously flirting with her, but she seemed to also enjoy it a lot.

 “I don’t know why, but seeing them together like this makes me super uneasy.” Christina shuddered a bit.

 “Why?” Will frowned at his girlfriend.

 “I don’t know they are both so.. scary.” The girl looked at her friends. “Don’t you think? The meanest people in Dauntless being all flirty.” She obviously had not forgotten Eric throwing her down the chasm, or Y/N pretending to shoot an initiate.

 Tris chewed her lips.

“Even scary people should be happy.” She finally said, causing the others to laugh.

 “Seriously? Can you imagine them together? The next round of initiates will all either die or end up factionless.” Chris looked over to them again, seeing Y/N sipping her drink, and Eric laughing. His arm was positioned behind her on the bar now. “Yuck.”

----

 “I tried to hit him, but he shot me in the leg first, hurt like a bitch.” Eric shook his head, and you noticed his fingers carefully stroking your back. A shiver ran down your spine, the good kind.

 “Maybe I should teach you how to shoot then. Didn’t know you were so bad at it.” You bit your tongue, before downing the rest of you drink.

 Eric gaped for a moment, probably unsure if he should be mad or not. Finally, he just chuckled, nodding.

“Yea, maybe a private lesson is what I need.” He grinned. He raised his glass, taking a sip.

 “If you need instructions how to use your weapon properly, we can start tonight, my place.”

 Eric choked on his drink, turning away when it shot out of his nose. He put the glass down onto the bar, grabbing a napkin from behind it to wipe his face, all the while unable to stop laughing.

 “Fuck, Y/N!” he growled. You had to laugh too, pushing yourself away from the bar.

 “The offer stands.” You winked, making your way through the crowd and towards the corridors, leading to the living area of Dauntless.

 You had just entered the corridor, when suddenly a hand grabbed your arm and turned you around. Before you could really react, Eric pressed you against a wall, his hands on your waist, his lips on yours.

 You immediately returned the kiss, opening your mouth a bit to deepen it, exploring Eric’s mouth with your tongue. You honestly didn’t give a shit that you were still kind of in the pit, with everyone able to see you. Both of you were known and quite prominent figures in Dauntless, so you already knew that there would be a lot of gossip, but you didn’t really care.

 Everything that was important now was Eric, and the kiss you shared. It was a pity that his hair was so short, you really would’ve liked to pull it. You ran your hands over his broad chest, before pushing him away.

 He looked a bit startled, but relaxed seeing your grin.

“I said my place. Not any place, Eric.” With that you turned around again, walking on and towards your apartment. Eric was right beside you, his hands snaking around your hips.

 Even though you made sure that he would not see it, you were very excited in this moment. Eric was not only insanely attractive, but you also grew to like him a lot. You would not even mind for this to.. become more. More than just a hook up.

 You finally reached your apartment door, and you tipped your personal code into the pad next to the door. As soon as you were in and the door was shut behind you, Eric was on you again, his hands wrapped around your waist, kissing you passionately.

 With uncoordinated hands you grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head in a swift move. The tattoos on his neck stood in stark contrast to his skin, and you could not hold back but to kiss them, before strongly biting into it.

 Eric growled, lifting you up with his arms, and you wrapped your legs around his hip. Apparently he had seen the open door to your bedroom, as he started to slowly walk over there, while you still attacked his neck.

 He pushed you off of him, right onto your bed. Instead of following you though, he got down onto his knees, opening your boots and pulling them off. You just let him go to work, interested what he was planning. Your shoes were followed by your socks, and he also made quick work of his own. Then he climbed onto the bed, looming over you, before kissing you again.

 “How thoughtful.” You murmured against his lips. He did not answer, only bit you into your bottom lip, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break skin. You moaned against his mouth, hands running over his exposed chest. Eric’s hands ran underneath your tank top, taking it off quickly, his hands running over your torso.

 The kiss was passionately and intense. Literally breath-taking , and you had to push Eric away to get some air. He only used the break to kiss your neck, moving downwards your body. Your nails dragged along his back, when you felt his fingers move underneath your sports-bra, pulling it off just like your tank top.

 Eric leaned back, taking a moment to muster you. Lust was in his eyes, and he licked his lips as he looked at your exposed skin.

 “Like what you see?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows.

 “Oh, Y/N, you have no idea.” And with that he was over you again, one hand supporting himself on the bed while the other one moved to your breasts. You gasped against his mouth as he kissed you once more, his taste intoxicating. Maybe that was also the whiskey he had ordered at the bar, you were not quite sure.

 Your hands moved own his chest and stomach, opening the fly of his trousers. You were really glad he wasn’t wearing a blet, you were really not in the mood to fiddle with that.

 Eric groaned when you pushed your hand into his underwear, a grin appearing on your face when you found his member already fully erect.

“Oh you really like what you see, eh?” you laughed, and Eric growled.

 Eric’s hand now moved down your body, opening your trousers with a way too skilled hand. He moved back, grabbing the waistband your trousers and your pants, pulling them down together, leaving you lying on the bed completely naked. You sat up, pulling him back onto the bed, turning the two of you so you were now on top of him.

 Eric seemed a bit surprised at that, but rolled with it, a smile on his face as he bit his lip in expectation. Just as he had done with you, you pulled his remaining clothes off, and just had to take a moment to look at him.

 Eric was incredibly muscular, and there were tattoos on his stomach and right leg that you had never seen before. They had the same style as the rest, in stark contrast to his skin. He was incredibly attractive, and the piercings above his brow shimmered lightly in the faint light inside of your apartment. You straddled him, moving your head down to kiss him again, your hands finding his hair. It was short, yes, but not too short.

 You pulled hard, making him groan, but at the same time buck his hips up. Yea, you could tell he liked it a bit more rough.

 “I’m going to make you scream, before I’m done with you..” he almost hissed against your mouth. You bit his lower lip, unable to supress a grin.

 “Let’s see who’ll scream first.”

 With that you moved your lips to his neck, sucking and biting his skin, moving downwards, over his chest and stomach. You bit his hip, so hard that he actually almost shouted, but the twitch of his cock against your chest told you that he enjoyed it.

 “If you bite down there, I swear Y/N, I’ll kill you!” Eric growled and you moved down even further, and you had to laugh.

 “I’m mean, but not that mean.” You said, before lowering your head and licking over his erection, enticing a moan out of his mouth. He looked down at you with hungry eyes, clenching his jaw.

 Suddenly he sat up, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you onto the mattress, before he rolled over you, his lips finding yours again. His hand moved down and between your legs, the moisture he found there making him groan.

 “How are you so hot, damn.” You barely understood what he was saying, but it didn’t even matter, because his fingers quickly found your clit, circling it. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. Eric growled, his fingers moving more quickly, before they suddenly dipped down, pressing into you.

 A loud moan left your lips and you rolled your eyes, your hips bucking to meet his fingers.

 “Eric!” it came out of your mouth, and you moaning his name seemed to turn him on even more. He quickly moved his fingers in and out of you, causing you to clench around him. His thumb was in a position to hit your clit with every thrust, and your nails now were so deep in his shoulders, you knew that even if you didn’t draw blood, you would surly leave marks.

 Eric kissed and bit your neck, his hand not slowing down.

“Do you have..” he started to murmur into your ear, and you nodded quickly.

 “Bed.. oh my.. bedside table.” You barely managed to bring out.

 “Good.” Eric stopped his movements, his hand gone, and this time it was you who groaned.

 Eric laughed, pressing a kiss onto your cheek, which was such a contrast to the otherwise rough actions that you had to raise an eyebrow.

But Eric didn’t even notice that, as he had sat up, and opened the drawer of your bedside table, quickly finding what he was looking for.

 He opened the shiny package of the condom with his teeth, putting it onto himself. Just as he wanted to crawl over you, you pushed him, so he fell onto his back, climbing on top of him again. This whole thing kind of felt like a battle for dominance, and you really liked that.

 Eric just looked at you with hungry eyes, his hands finding your thighs as you straddled him. You bit your lip as you grabbed his cock, guiding it to your entrance, slowly, very slowly lowering yourself onto him.

 You closed your eyes, breathing steadily. Eric was.. thick. And stretched you a bit more than you had expected. You had almost expected him to push his hips up, but he kept steady, not moving until you were all the way down. You opened your eyes again, looking down at the man, who started to grin when your eyes met. You grinned back, lifting your hips again, and moving down, this time a bit quicker.

 Your started up a hard, even if not so fast pace, and the sound of both of your moans filled the bedroom. You were sure the person in the apartment next to yours was probably able to hear you, but you didn’t really care about that.

 You leaned back a bit, throwing your head into your neck, your hands on Eric’s strong thighs, supporting yourself. You felt Erics hand run down your torso, before his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tandem with your movements. You felt yourself edging more and more towards the end, the feeling of him inside of you and his hands on you was just.. amazing.

 “Eric..” you moaned again, and just as last time this seamed to turn him on even more. Eric sat up, wrapping an arm around your torso, and supporting your movements, quickening them while his mouth found your neck again.

 “Y/N!” his voice was coarse and deep and so god damn sexy it drove you insane.

 Your hands wandered into his neck, and one into his hair, pulling it strongly, so his head was back in his neck. You moved your head to kiss him, all tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but extremely erotic.

 When you let go of his hair he rolled the two of you over once more, him now over you again. Eric sat up a hard and quick pace, his hand automatically finding your clit and rubbing it just as fast. You moaned loudly, arching your back as you felt your orgasm draw nearer and nearer.

 Eric’s face was next to your ear, and you heard him moan and that was what finally pushed you over the edge. You came hard, your legs wrapping around Eric’s waist and you clenching around his cock. Your moan was loud, but nothing compared to Eric. One, two more thrusts, and he collapsed on top of you, breathing hard and fast.

 “Shit.” He murmured, before rolling off of you.

 “I won. You screamed.” You laughed breathlessly, and he chimed in.

 “Oh fuck off.”

[y00ngz]

triggered.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Love conquers all. But when does it not? OR that part when cheating  happened and you’re supposedly hopelessly in love with each other.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, manipulation, yandere theme?, this is basically a toxic relationship :/  mention of guns and suicide/self-harm, JK is a nervous wreck, JK mocks OC, he was low-key mean, ANGST, NOONA kink, dirty talk, smut (groping, fingering, kissing, degradation?, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, switch?), JK is very much whipped, both oc and him are really simps for each other

Words: 2.5k+ 

(A/N: Wahhh, this is my first writing. I’ve always said I’ll never write but all these Jungkook thoughts in my head are just about ready to burst and I thought I might as well share with you all. Please feel free to let me know what you think, and try to take it easy on me. I hope you guys enjoy! :)) 

He's on his knees in front of you. A man so broken, releasing uncontrollable sobs and tears freely running down his eyes. "Please, I'm so sorry," He started. "I swear to God, it was a mistake! I don't even know how it happened! Noona, I was drunk and we fought. And you were so far ... so far away. You shouldn't have yelled at me! I hated it! You were far and you yelled at me!"

He was blabbering now. Nervous as hell because he knew, he knew he fucked up. Infedility is something you both agreed that would be a final straw. You both love each other so much, always expressing and exchanging words of affection. Always reassuring that nothing, NOTHING will ever tear your relationship apart because whatever it is, you both will work it out because you love each other. You'll do anything for one another. EXCEPT of course, if one cheated, that's just it. Because there's just no way that things can go back to normal after laying with another person. After being intimate with another being who is neither you or Jungkook.

"Jungkook, you slept with another woman. You fucked her. You put your dick in her!" You cried. It's your turn to sob. Saying it out loud made you feel the pain ten times worst. Finally acknowledging the pain that you tried so hard to deny because you love him.

You were ready to forgive him. But hearing yourself say it reminded you of all the pain and misery you endured. That while he was away, fucking another woman, you were in your bed crying because of how much you miss him and wished that he was with you to reconcile a misunderstanding.

"I can't stay here tonight," you began. You opened the walk in closet and grabbed a suitcase. "Or tomorrow, or the day after that." You started snatching clothes, anything that looks like yours and blindly throwing them in the suitcase. Tears continue to involuntary leave your swollen eyes. You've been crying since you found out. You knew this was it. It was THIS bad when he sent you a text the next morning of your fight "Noona, I love you so much and I'm so sorry. I did something that I shouldn't have ... but I know you can forgive me. We'll overcome this." You knew it was bad because he came home that night when he was supposed to come not until 2 weeks from now.

And here you both are. Nothing but despair in the air. You love him. God, you love him but this one just hurts so much. You can't even look at him.

"Noona, no - no, no, what are you" he's stuttering his words. Can't even speak properly. "Noona, please! Stop! You can't leave ! We will work through this!" He's panicking and his words are shaking. He's trying to pry the clothes out of your hands, trying to unload whatever's already loaded in your suitcase. "Noona! No! Please ! You can't leave me. You can't leave like this! " he sounds so broken. Voice cracking from crying too much and his entire being is trembling, finally reaching his breaking point. He dropped to his knees, "Noona, I can't - I fucking-" he's shaking so bad, his eyes are so red and blood shot and fear fills his eyes. He looks so terrified. "Noona, I will fucking die. I will fucking die before you leave me! " he shouted, bloody screamed shouted and for the first time in your life you felt scared because he looks just about ready to do anything to keep you here.

He opened the the drawer of your night stand and pulled out a piece that you both agreed to have for protection. He aims it at his temple after cocking it and you hear the hammer part of the gun clicking, all he has to do is to pull the trigger and your heart dropped. You feel blood rush and leave your face. Now it's your turn to shake, now it's your turn to be scared.

"I love you so fucking much Noona. If you leave, I'll die. I would die before you leave me! I don't want want to live without you. I can't live without you. Is this what you fucking want?!" Words spitting out of his mouth in frantic.

You dropped everything in your hands and reached out, "Jungkook baby, give me the gun." You say softly and slowly. "No!" And he pushes the barrel deeper into his temple, his eyes scrunching, the veins on his neck are protruding. "I swear I'll fucking do it noona!"

"Jungkook, please! if you really love me, give me the gun! I love you!" Youre voice is raising and he can sense the panic and fear from it. "If I give you the gun, will you not leave?" He asks so softly, lips pouting and he's still crying. He never stopped.

"Jungkook, please I love you so much. Just give me the gun. If you die, Jungkook I don't know ... I won't know what to do without you." Everything that you're telling him is true, but at the same time, you'll say anything just for him to lower the weapon from his head and to hand it to you instead. And finally, thank fuck, he did. With a deep sigh followed by a sob, he moved the gun off of his head and handed you the piece. You took it, quickly locked it and unloaded the magazine.

Jungkook looks defeated on his knees, both of his hands are covering his face and he is violently trembling from his cries. He hears you walk up to him and he looks up before throwing himself at you. Hugging you, holding you, never letting go. "Noona, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! Please, you have to forgive me! I can't live without you Noona. I love you!"

He kisses the skin on your chest that is revealed from the shirt you're wearing. He's groping you now, antsy hands that have been dying to touch you. He mouths your nipple through your shirt and you hissed. Followed by his hands groping both of your ass, using it to pull you more and against his mouth. "Jungkook, I don't think -" he won't let you finish that sentence so he kisses you instead. His tongue already invading yours, teeth biting your lips. He's so frantic, too needy, he feels. He needs to have you now. He thought he almost lost you. 

He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall. “Baby... tell me you want me” he says in between kisses. His hands are reaching all over your body, fingers trembling as they climb down to your stomach. With his other hand, he pushes your hair to the side and mouths your neck. Whispering words of affection and empty praises, nonstop apologies. He bites your collarbone, both hands now roughly gripping your hips, groaning “Say you want me please, I need you.” 

“Jungkook ... I want you” You whispered, finally giving in. Silent tears make their way to your eyelids, but you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s mouth lifted in a smirk; smiling at you so mockingly. He kisses his way up to your lips again, smothering you with his, licking your mouth open before taking your tongue with his. “Yeah? You want me baby.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. His hands traveling down to your body, reaching between your thighs and openly palming your mound over your panties. “I know you won’t leave baby, I can only make you feel like this.” 

“Jungkook - I, “ You tried to push against him. His hands feel good on you. God, does it feel good but you didn’t feel this was appropriate. You’re still hurt. “Shh baby, it’s okay.” He grabs both of your hands, holding them with one hand while his other gently pets your pussy. He pushes your panties aside, hissing at the feel of your wet cunt, dripping. “You get this wet for me baby? And yet you were gonna leave me?” He laughs. His fingers parting your pussy to spread your juices all over. Rubbing your entrance, teasing it, before circling your clit. You moaned, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. “You like it when I’m angry is that it? Or is it when I cry and look helpless? You say things you don’t mean, you say you’ll leave me just so you can see me cry and get wet watching me. You’re a sick fuck, Noona.” He’s completely mocking you now, all the while petting your pussy and rubbing your clit. He finally inserts his finger in you, two at that, and you moan. Loud whimpers shamefully leaving your lips. 

You shook your head, not knowing what to say back to him after his declarations. Again, he laughs amusedly. “Yes you are baby, you’re a sick fuck. You’re enjoying this as much as me. Hmm? Am I right, Noona?” You grabbed onto his hand that’s between your legs, he was expecting you to pull it free from your pussy but instead you urged him, to go faster, to go deeper. “Oh you want to cum baby? Hmm? You want to cum all over my fingers? Say please. Be a nice a Noona and say please.” He reaches deeper, fingers curling to hit that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling back, head thumping and hitting the wall. “Please, Jungkook. I want - I want to - please-ah” He kisses you hard and messily, sucking on your tongue, plundering your mouth. “Yeah baby, go ahead, cum for me baby. Yess, that’s it. That’s it.” You held on to him tightly, eyes opening wide staring at him. You bit your lips as you fall apart on his hand. Loud whimpers escaping your lips and you grab his other hand to bring it around your throat. His hand automatically wraps your neck with it, giving you another devilish smirk. You love this shit, he thinks. You’re so fucking perfect and beautiful. 

His hand tightens around your neck before pulling his fingers out of you. His eyes are blown, high as hell from watching you orgasm while his hand holds your neck in captive. He notices your legs trembling, unable to stand yourself up from the aftermath of your orgasm. He hoists you up, lifting you in a cradle position as he makes his way to the bed. He lays you down, tugging your underwear down. He does the same, pulling his sweatpants down to his thighs. He’s not wearing any underwear so his cock springs free and you see and hear it slap his stomach. He’s so hard. He’s leaking and making a mess just by fingering you. 

You lift your shirt up to display your breasts. He sees you lick your lips in anticipation and he wastes no time spreading your legs as far apart as you can. He gives his cock a few pumps before putting his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, wetting it to rub it on the head of his cock, mixing it with his precum and spreading it around. The sight before you is marvelous. Jungkook fucks like no other. And you can’t wait to feel his apologies by fucking you into oblivion. 

He lines his cock against your pussy. The fat head of his cock slowly making its way in. You hear him moaning, almost whimpering at the tight feel of your pussy on his dick. “So fucking tight, fuck Noona.” He pushes all the way in to the hilt, both of you sighing in unison from pleasure. He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size, he pulls all the way out only to fuck into you harder. He pushes your legs up, your knees touching your breast from how he’s folded you almost in half. And you brace yourself from the upcoming hammering of his cock in your pussy. He fucks you so hard, using his weight as he pounds into you. Pushing himself as deeper as he can. He’s grunting, moaning, biting his lips, “Is this what you want? You wanted me to fuck you like this? Hmm? Yeah, take it. Take it.” He’s knocking the air out from you each time he hammers into you, your mouth opens but no sounds come out, just airy breathy moans. 

“I love you, I love you so fucking much Noona.” He reminded you. If his words felt empty to you, his cock will tell you otherwise. Then something in you snaps, you grabbed his face, holding his cheek with your hand while he drives in to you. “Did she feel as good as me?” You asked. His face almost fell, eyebrows furrowing, confused as to what you’re asking. “Was she as tight as me? Wet as me? “ You pinched his nipples and he let out a high pitch whine. His hips faltering, stuttering as he enters you. “Noona, I don’t-“ He’s at lost for words, head shaking because he can’t think of anything to say. “You can tell me, I want to know. Did you cum in her? Did she make you cum?” You pinched his nipples harder and he cried out. “Noooooo,” He whined out, “I didn’t cum. I couldn’t, Noona. It’s you, it’s only you.” You clutched the nape of his neck before pulling him to your lips, kissing him, loving him. Your imperfectly, perfect boy. “I only want your pussy, Noona. You get so wet for me and the way you squeeze my cock, fuck, I’ll cum just thinking about it.” 

“Then cum. Cum inside me.” He growled before wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling you in deeper. He rubs your clit while he fucks you, “Not until you cum again, please cum on my cock Noona, I need to feel it.” He taps your little bud of nerves , gripping your waist with his other hand and using it as leverage to fuck yourself onto him deeper and harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful, let me feel it Noona. Cum on my cock, let me see your pretty pussy cream my cock.” You feel that familiar knot loosening in  your stomach at his words. He lets go of your waist and took captive of your neck once again, wrapping it tightly around your throat and  you feel yourself fall all over again. The harder he squeeze, the tighter you get. “Fuck yeah, that’s it. That’s it. God damn, Noona, fuck – I’m – shit – I’m cumming! I’m cumming Noona” You feel him spurt his cum inside you, can feel him pulsating, and you’re dripping. From both yours and his orgasm. 

He stays inside you, not pulling out and lays his entire weight on top of you. He pulls you in before rolling to his side, bringing you along with him. You’re laying face to face with each other. He tucks your hair behind your ear and you’re staring at the love of your life in front of you. He is so beautiful and you think he can’t be capable of anything to hurt you. 

You feel the tears silently making their way to your eyes again, the overwhelming feeling of the need to have each other close, or the need to fuck each other, is gone. And now you’re face to face with the man who gave you the world and the man who broke your soul. 

He pulls you in closer, your face tucked in his chest. All night, you both cried. No words were said. Just kisses and tears. What will happen now?