#and he's missing the knife holster

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Dean Devlin: In case you haven’t heard the exciting news, Christian Kane has officially joined the cast of #TheLibrarians The Next Chapter, coming to The CW 📚

[andy-clutterbuck]

5x12 | Remember

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[lanabuckybarnes]

Kitty Cat

Bucky is compromised during a mission, sending him back into the mindset of the winter soldier. When he makes a break for it he ends up back at your house. Who will help him revert?

The winter soldier is the reason your cats sleep in the bed.

Pairing: Winter soldier (Bucky Barnes) x Reader

Warnings: I swear an awful lot in my writing, so swearing, Winter soldier (he needs a warning), I used DeepL for translation on a single word.

Word count: 1.7k

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The whole mission was a complete and utter shit show, Sam has been injured almost instantaneously and Steve had been reluctant to continue the mission without him.

Bucky on the other hand was keen to get this whole situation over and done with and there was only one way he knew to finish it. He offered himself up to complete the mission alone.

“It’s not happening” Steve shut him down without question, he wouldn’t have another valuable member injured.

“It’ll be quick and simple, especially if I go alone” Bucky was almost pleading with the blonde to let him go.

Truth be told Bucky just wanted home. He was missing the warm atmosphere that surrounded him when he snuggled into his wife and their two cats. They’d been in Budapest for a month tracking the gang and now that they had their scent he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

“Fine but if it gets hairy you get out” Steve huffed. He knew Bucky was correct, that they’d be here for another long month if they lost this trail.

Bucky should’ve listened to Steve’s words.

The place was empty, eerily empty, far too abandoned to be a base of operations. No, something was up. His eyes squint at the sudden bright light blinking on in the room, the soft buzzing sound coming from it almost doubled due to his enhanced hearing.

Bucky had heard it before he saw it, invading his senses were buzzing, screaming, gunshots. It was a trap and it was working. He could feel his consciousness slipping from him as he kneeled on the floor.

His frame flopped to the side and everything went blank.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The sound of the door closing softly had pulled you from your sleep, ‘Bucky’s home’ you thought excitedly.

Bucky hadn’t came in to say hello, it was basically tradition now for him to announce his arrival with a peck to your cheek and a groan as he rolled into bed with aching bones.

In fact, there was no sound at all.

“What the hell” you murmured under your breath, flicking your legs out of from under the covers into the cold air and pulling one of Bucky’s oversized graphic shirts over your body.

Making your way down the hall you could see a figure, tall, wide and tussled short hair. It was Bucky.

“Buck?” You throw his name into the silent air. ‘Bucky’ turns his head sharply towards you, icy blue eyes staring at you, through you.

No, not Bucky, your heart fluttered in fear.

You could hear your phone vibrate from the room but his eyes had you glued in place, you could truly see why people quivered in fear of this man even if he was only fixing you with a glare.

The mobile continued to ring, he didn’t move an inch, neither did you. You knew it would be foolish to attempt to run, the knife holstered to his hip would sink through your flesh before you’d even turned in the opposite direction.

Movement from the corner of the room caught his eyes. ‘The cats, shit!’ your mind raced, watching as his eyes turned to them.

“Please, don’t, you stepped forward finally.

He wasn’t paying attention, watching the white ball of fur stretch her back seemingly far more entertaining than your pleas. She meowed at the large figure, stepping from the chair and sauntering over to his thick boots. His eyes never left her, not for a second, even when the she rubbed her fluffed head against his leather clad ankle.

“Кто?” (Who?) his low voice was almost hard to hear with his head facing the ground but you caught it.

“Alpine” the white ball of fluff perked at the sound of her name before continuing her onslaught of his boots, tiny paws scratching at the toes.

“Alpine” he tried the name on his own tongue, it sounded nice, it sounded familiar.

Just as he was getting familiar with the small white cat another, much darker one plopped down from the same chair. He glanced up at you with question dancing through his orbs.

“Zanzibar”. The black cat seemed wary of his threatening presence, choosing to observe him from a distance rather than join his white friend.

The Winter Soldier, you’d heard so much about him. A killer, an emotionless assassin who would end life without a question. Age? it didn’t matter when you were his mission you weren’t getting out alive, those icy blue eyes freezing you in your spot would be the last thing you’d see before your death.

This wasn’t the man you saw standing in your sitting room, the man you saw was cautious, almost scared to make movement. He may have been a killer, but not now, not as his body crouched down to pet the white cats head with a gloved hand, not while he picked the bundle of fur up in his large hands and into his arms.

He was human.

A pained groan pulled you from your thoughts. Looking at him you watched as he clutched a free hand to his head, his body swaying slightly.

“Are you ok?” You stepped forwards instinctively, placing a hand on his metal arm, as if it were your husband.

“Come on sit” you pushed his large frame to the chair, his body sinking into the comfy material with a thump. His breathing had quickened, the pain in his head increasing. Like someone was crawling up along his neck to the front of his skull, their fingers digging deep into his brain. The cats, seemingly unbothered by his pain perched themselves around his wide body.

Watching him, you could tell he was going faint. His skin had paled to a sickly white, those ‘emotionless’ hues of blue dulling with sleep and his muscles relaxed— you had to get him to bed before he woke up with a stiff neck and an attitude.

“Bucky?” You tried softly but received no response from the barely conscious human, you were out of ideas, no one had told you how to address him in this state of mind. In your defence no one had anticipated this situation at all. Suddenly it clicked.

“Soldat” you spoke more firmly this time, it was almost scary how quickly his head bobbed up at the name— the dark look accompanying the Winter Soldier fought tooth and nail to return to his eyes but he was losing.

Your soft hands wrapped around the tough vibrainum cautiously, hoping that he didn’t swing around and grab at your throat. “Bed, Soldat”

He grunted, wobbling to his feet. But not before grabbing both cats in his meaty arms. Despite neither of them being very small he made them look like balls of soot or dust in his embrace— it was quite endearing to watch as he stomped into your room behind you.

You let him walk past you as you shut the door of the master bedroom, quickly jumping into the bathroom to splash some water on your face and pet down your disheveled hair. You had to be dreaming, right? There was no way such a thoughtless man would spare you and the lives of your kittens, yet he treated them as his own. The cold shock soaking your face confirmed, or rather confused you, you couldn’t believe that you were thinking of how much a dream would make more sense than what was going on now.

Your questions only deepen when you emerged from the joint bathroom and gazed over to their large bed. The Winter Soldier, sprawled across the white silk— boots and all. On his chest lay Alpine, her small paws stretched over who she thought was her daddy’s chest, the black kitty rested curled on his side beside Bucky’s, no, the Soldat’s meaty thigh with his large palm resting on top of the cat like it was a blanket.

You weren’t getting any sleep in the bed now.

As you admired the sight before you, stealing a few pictures for evidence, a knock came from their front door. You froze, looking over the soft features of the Soldat’s face, looking to see if he’d heard it too. Thankfully whatever had happened to him in your living room had knocked him out.

When you got to the door Sam and Steve busted in, dressed head to toe in their costumes.

“Where is he?” Steve questioned, a phone in hand with a small red dot in the centre. They’d tracked Bucky’s phone to find him here.

“He’s in the bedroom” you replied before squeaking and reaching out to grab at Sam, you’d noticed his body turn in that direction. You had to stop him.

“He’s under control”, you breathed, trying to stop yourself from becoming too loud. Both men’s faces contorted in bewilderment. The Winter Soldier? Surely you’d witnessed the same brutality they had.

“What are you talking about?” Sam found his words first, shrugging off your tight grasp and folding his arms under his pecs.

“I don’t know what happened but… he saw the cats and just broke down” you stumbled, trying to find the correct words to describe what you’d witnessed, even if in truth there was nothing to describe what you saw.

“What?”. Steve couldn’t help the way his words laced with doubt, you couldn’t blame him. Maybe he thought you were trying to protect the Winter soldier, or protect them from him.

“I’m not joking”, she retorted then your eyes widened along with your smile. The photos. Yanking the phone from out of nowhere, the first thing that pops up was the picture you’d just taken before they arrived

Sure enough, Bucky’s body lay sleeping on his back; legs and arms spread wide with a kitty close by and the other sprawled out over his abdomen.

“Well I’ll be damned” Sam whispered, Steve didn’t even have the processing power to shout at him for his language.

After that night, Bucky had finally awoke. You’d explained the whole situation and let his soft fingers trail over your body to confirm the Winter Soldier did not harm you, then the teasing began.

The joke would forever be on you though. The cats had finally got a taste of the bed and they weren’t prepared to give it up so easily, the Winter Soldier had indeed harmed you in one way— he’d harmed your inability to sleep close to your man without both cats slotting themselves somewhere they didn’t belong.

-

Hello!! I’m back with more fluff before I dump all my smut on you again.

The first part of this had been sitting in my drafts for about a month and I finally got round to finishing it.

I hope you enjoyed.

[yourmamakira]

"FIGHTING WORDS" Carl Grimes, she/her

Set in the Alexzandria Era after Carl lost his eye. His very protective girlfriend overheard the local kids talking about Carl behind his back. and needless to say, no one had anything to say about Carl ever again. [ANGST, to SLIGHT FLUFF]

Carl has been in a coma for weeks. His girlfriend had never left his side after the incident. Her depression had gotten so bad it took Daryal, Glenn and Rick to hold her down to force her to eat and drink water.

Her mood had deteriorated drastically, she was more angry, she was less active, she never smiled anymore and she didn't know who to blame for what happened to Carl. She knew it wasn't right to Blame others for the accident. but she had nearly lost the one thing keeping her going in this Hell that used to be a world, she had every right to be upset.

she sat in the armchair next to the bed Carl lay in peacefully, she slipped between sleep and alert wake. She didn't even let the nurse come into the room to check on Carl unless absolutely necessary, and when anyone else was in beside her and Carl, her hand stayed on her and Carl's Gun that slept in her holster.

her eyes shot open and her hand bolted to her gun as the door to their room swung open. In walked the one and only Daryl Dixon, and for once he was without his crossbow. he walked in with his usual gruff demeanor and closed the door behind him.

The girl took her hand off her guns and crossed her arms as she returned to watching the sleeping Carl.

Darryl came over and sat in the seat opposite of her. he crossed his arms before speaking.

"You need to go outside. He ain't wakin' up any sooner with you watchin' him like a hawk. He ain't goin' nowhere, and you don't have to go that far. Jus' needs to get outta this room."

You glared at him through your hooded eyes. but inevitably he was right. carl had been like this for weeks and every second you watched him it felt like your body was slipping farther into a black hole.

Daryal then spoke again, "You need to be in your best health for when he wakes up. you need ta' take care of em', not him take care of you. how you gon take care of him like this?"

he had you stumped with his words. he was right, how were you going to take care of Carl and you couldn't even take care of yourself?

you let out a sigh and began to get up, he followed suit but then stopped you by holding out his hand. you huffed while rolling your eyes and took your guns out of your holster. he didn't know about the knife in your boot thank goodness, but knowing him he probably did.

you passed him up with a glare while leaving the house and strolling out into the street you hadn't seen in weeks. There wasn't much to do here. Besides the few teens that roamed, but you mainly kept to yourself and Carl.

you never really talked much these days, nothing worth talking about. Many thought you were mute at first meeting you, but that narrative quickly went out the window whenever you got too upset. Memory's of all the times someone had pissed you off to bad and you cussing up a storm regardless the person.

you walked the streets passing by people and not saying a word. You came up to a small bench and decided to take a seat and just take in the fresh air, you had to admit, it did feel nice on your skin to feel the breeze and not that stuffy old room that felt more like a prison rather a room.

a few minutes had passed and you had begun to get up being done with your reminiscence before you spotted a group of teens headed your way.

You despised these inhabitants of Alexandria greatly, and their children were even more unbearable. You started past them before one of them decided to take it upon himself to cat-called you, despite you clearly being madly in love with Carl, these specific group just love to torment you.

"Hey, Miss Mute! How about I show you what a real man looks like in bed while your one eyed freak of a boyfriend's out!" He and his friends cackled like hyenas while shoving him around, as if what he said was the greatest thing in the world.

you slowly spun around and sneered, you decided to brush off his remark of the incident, knowing nothing good would come out of beating his ass, "Your tiny shrimp dick doesn't even come close to a real man. My one eyed freak of a boyfriend at that." he stopped laughing and his gooneys ooed like kindergarteners.

He tilted his head to the side as he stepped closer then he should have. "The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?" You stepped closer to him and you could feel his stank breath up your nose, it made you want to vomit on the spot. But you continued to talk your shit.

"I said, you have a big ass head, and a small as Dick. Your breath also smells like walker ass. need I say more?" Your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows furrowed.

his face contorted into one of anger, he scoffed then chuckled dryly as if he thought a funny thought in his fucked up head.

He raised his hand and tried to touch your hair, but you moved your face and roughly grabbed his arm putting it behind his back so he couldn't move. you then put pressure on his back as he cried out loudly in pain.

"you ever touch me again, and I will fucking kill you!"you yelled out aggressively. You were not in the mood to be fucked with.

He couldn't even respond with words as he just continued to cry like a baby for anyone that would dare to help him.

His friends all backed up out of fear of being next. They started yelling at you to let him go but you didn't listen and continued to nearly break his arm.

He yelled louder as your pressure increased. Your face hot with anger that he even dared to touch you after making a nasty comment about your boyfriend.

You then heard yells of a few adults calling you name but you still didn't let up.

Then out of no where two pairs of strong arms grabbed your arms and you thrashed in their hold.

The boy you had previously had in a hold jumped up to his feet and held his arm in pain, "you crazy bitch! That bullet should have Killed Your boyfriend!"

He yelled out and suddenly your thrashing stopped, you looked up at him with a dark look and his face went cold. He knew he had fucked up.

You harshly ripped your arms away from your holders and ran up to the boy with a flying fist, it knocked him on the ground and you kept on punching. His face become black and blue and Messy with blood, your knuckles ached but you didn't care.

It took a total of four adults to pry you away from the nearly unconscious boy, but by then you had already lost all cool.

You stopped struggling in their hold and spit on the boy you had just beat to a pulp.

Your breathing was irratic and it became very clear to everyone that you were extremely unstable. You caught your breath and spoke down darkly to the boy who cried out in pain. He spotted you stepping one step closer and backed up out of fear.

"If you, or anyone else is this god dam town, ever speak bad about Carl ever again. Your gonna wish your sorry asses became walkers after i'm through with you! Do you FUCKING HEAR ME??"

The boy nodded vigorously as more and more people came over to stare at you with fear.

You yanked your arms away from the men and everyone backed up and cleared you a path as you turned around to go back to you and Carl's room.

You made it up there and slammed the door and began pacing back and forth. You were so Pumped with adrenaline that you didn't even notice the empty bed where Carl laid before.

The door swung open and in came a seething Daryl, followed by a worried Glenn and a Very Concerned Maggie.

Daryl came over to stand infront of you and you mean mugged him. He gave you a harsh push and you feel backwards into a chair.

Maggie and Glenn both Yelled but their cries went Unheard by the both of you. You death gripped the arm rests of the chair you sat in as you glared up at the yelling Man that had became your father figure over the course of this apocalypse.

"I told your ass to take a walk! Not Pumble some kids face in! Now That kids gonna need Stitches that we don't have Just because you couldn't control your Anger over some Dam words! Now I heard what them kids said to you, what they said about Carl. But what if That dam wanna be president decided to Kick you out because you beat up some kid they thought was innocent?! You don't think before you Hit! And we can't have that type of stupidity in this world! Get your fuckin' act together! Or you're gonna be in some deep fuckin' shit."

He left off with those words and left behind a shaking and teary eyed child on the Chair. Your leg bounced rapidly as tears fell from your eyes but no sound came out.

You didn't know any other way to let out what you were feeling besides violence. It was your only option given that Carl wasn't in a good shape to calm you down like he usually would.

You were unknowingly left alone in the room and that left you with your thoughts. You stood up and began throwing, kicking and breaking everything and anything in the room that could be thrown kicked or broken.

You continued until another voice entered the room, another voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Y/n..?"

You spun around and anyone could tell just by looking at you that you were not okay.

Your eye bags as eye bags, your hair was widely unkept, your knuckles bled from throwing things, hitting things and beating the shit out of kids and unsuspecting walkers. You shook with every breath you let out, and your voice was raw from yelling into your pillow with Sobs you couldn't control.

Carl Slowly made his way into the room as he carefully walked to you like you were Fine China. He stopped right in front of you and then suddenly encased your form.

You stood there for a few seconds, asking yourself in your loud head 'was this real?'

But as you felt the heat off his skin, the soft melancholy beat of his heart. And his soft But ragged breaths. You knew your boyfriend was real.

You slowly encased his body and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. You began sobbing, wetting his shirt like it was raining from the clouds.

Your loud sobs shook the house that you both occupied but You didn't care. Your throat became dryer and dryer and you sobs grew raspy as you clutched Carl Closer to your body.

You were a broken record falling apart without the other half that was the love of you life. Carl rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You continued to sob until you couldn't anymore. Your legs grew tired as your body grew heavy, you hadn't slept in days. And it was evident on your face.

His big hands cupped your face and used the pads of his thumb to wipe away any stray tears from your eyes, your hurt and abused soul seethed through your eyes and he could see what you had been going through with just a glance at your tear stained face.

He kissed your tears away with his chapped lips and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing leveled out after crying for hours in his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.

He laid down in the spot he had been for weeks and you laid on top of him. You looked into eachothers eyes until you couldn't keep them open anymore.

The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of each others breathing.

You knew you would have to deal with the consequences of what you had done, but you could deal with them later.

Now? The two puzzles peices had finally clicked back together where they belonged, and as long as you had Carl. You didn't care what was next. As long as whatever it was, was beside him.

HIIII, this chapter is kinda sad, sadder then I usually write at least, and this had more reader then Carl so I'm sorry about that but I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you wanna see more of Mr grimes please request and I'll get back to you :3

[phfenomena]

❝cowboy like me.❞ || William H. Bonney x Reader

A/N- i really loved this idea and i hope you do too!!!

William H. Bonney x Reader fluff

inspired by ‘cowboy like me’ by taylor swift

| WARNINGS - drinking, mentions of gun violence, kissing, mentions of burglary

the heat was blistering, almost as if you were walking down to the devils penthouse. you laid flat on the ground by your campfire. damn fires probably colder than i am you thought, but you needed the light. as you sat on a log carving a knife out of the bare wood you’d collected earlier, you hear a twig snap. your hand quickly pulls your pistol out of the holster and your hands settle in the direction of the sound. you cock it and tilt your head, straining your eyes trying to see.

“who’s there?” you barked through the silence. a sigh of relief? annoyance? or just plain desperation reached your ears.

“sorry, miss. i’m just out collecting fire wood for my buddies. i ain’t mean to disturb you.” a smooth and warm voice cut into the quiet and muggy air.

“come on out into the light.” you coaxed, gun still pointed. a tall and slender man, no, boy cautiously emerged from the dark wall of shadow. you scoff and set your pistol next to you on the log. “now, what is a kid doing out here?” you would’ve almost sounded annoyed if it wasn’t for the smile gracing your lips. the boy took his hat off to greet you, and nervously ran his fingers over the worn leather.

“i, uh, i’m not a kid, ma’am. i was just looking for firewood. my buddies and i set up camp a few hundred feet north, i didn’t mean to trample your site. my apologies.” he managed to stutter out.

you wave him off and point to the pile of wood to the left of your feet, cladded in red leather boots. “just take these, kid. i gathered them earlier. i won’t need the fire much longer, it’s too damn hot.” you exasperated the end and took your own hat off to fan yourself.

billy has never seen a woman like you. you were alone, first of all. the fire casted such a lovely warm glow across your complexion, his knees were getting unstable the longer the studied you. he took a few steps towards you and stuck a hand out, the other still holding onto his hat.

“i’m billy, miss. no need to call me kid, i’m probably not much younger than you.” he trailed off with a grin plastered across his face. you shook his hand, still sitting down. “it’s nice to meet you, billy. i’m y/n, and you don’t look a day over six and ten.” you teased him and he mirrored your smile.

“i’m not a kid in a lot of different attributes.” he smirked as you raise your eyebrows and you meet eyes. very blue. like very very blue. you can make out the constellations in his with just the light from the fire. he sure is a pretty boy.

you pat the log next to you “would you like a drink?” you hold out your flask of whiskey to him. the warm temperature of the liquid almost makes it easier to swallow. he nods and grabs the flask after sitting next to you. your fingers brush, it feels like pin pricks all across your hand.

after billy swallows he asks “so, what’s a lady like you doing out here alone? or are you not alone?” he has his elbows resting on his knees with his head facing you. his very presence makes you feel more warmth than any fire could ever give, you find it hard to care about the heat anymore.

you chuckle a little and turn back to the fire. “i am alone, i’m traveling a little farther west. couldn’t stay in el paso much longer, that sheriff hates my damn guts. he’d had hung me for the hell of it.” you finish your sentence with a swift from your flask. “what about you, billy? what are you and your buddies doing?” his gaze never even moved a centimeter away from your lips as you talk. his eyes rake up your face to your eyes. he smiles “we run cattle, sometimes. well i do it sometimes, they do it all the time. we’re heading to lincoln county for some business.” they run cattle, they’re definitely outlaws.

as you study his face a little more, you notice he’s familiar. “wait! i know you. you’re on all those wanted posters in el paso! what the hell did you do to get such a high bounty? i could only dream of having that high of a price on my head.” he hung his head and chuckled “just when i thought i met someone who didn’t already know me, i did a good thing. honestly. i broke my friend out of jail, had some issues along the way.” he did a good thing, that’s adorable. he’s an outlaw because he helped his friend.

your eyes soften at his short story and you tuck your hair behind your ears. “you sound like a good man. not like the stories i’ve heard. i once heard that you gunned down fifty different mean on six bullets. and all they say about me is ‘she should’ve been like her mother’” your mocking tone at the end made billy smile.

“i hate to tell you, but, i definitely didn’t do that and i am not as brave and murderous as they make me out to be. i’ve done a lot of bad things, but i’m trying to do good now. also your mother can’t be that bad, if she raised a lovely lady like you.” was he flirting? and we’re you liking it?

“she’s like a vile serpent.” you mutter as you take another swig. “now, correct me if i’m wrong. but i think i’ve seen you on one or two wanted posters yourself, y/n.” you shake your head and smile at him. you feel so warm and fuzzy. was it the whiskey or billy?

“oh, you’re not wrong. although i still uphold the belief that i was set up. some pals of mine were talking about robbing this corner store, when i got there to join them no one was there besides the sheriff! damn assholes set me up, and i didn’t even want to do it! i’m innocent in my eyes.” you gesture with your hands while you talk and billy’s just entranced. he nods, slowly. “that’s just the way things go sometimes.” he softly mutters while wanting to never look away from you again. “you can say that again, cowboy.”

billy couldn’t take it anymore. his blood felt like it was boiling. he leans over and softly pressed your lips together. shocked, you don’t kiss back for a second. terrified he just made a mistake, billy pulls back and frantically stands up. “i am so sorry, y/n. i don’t know why i did tha-“ you stand up and wrap your hands around his suspenders and pull him down for your lips to meet. rougher and slower than the last one.

his hands find purchase on your waist as he fiddles with the bottom of your vest. his knees were weak. they were jelly. “just shut up and kiss me, cowboy” you whispered against his lips. your hands snake into his hair and rake along his scalp. he pulls back and says

“you know, i think you’re a cowboy like me. but most cowboys don’t kiss me so i’d say you’re a bit better than most.” you laugh at his idiotic words and pull him back in as the fire slowly dies, barley casting an amber glow. no skeletons in either of your closets could fuck this up.

[proxima-writes]

title: stranger than a stranger

pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4964

summary:

When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.

author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!

You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.

Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.

“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”

“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles. 

“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies. 

You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts. 

“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”

You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.

“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.

You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”

“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”

With another nod, you part ways. 

You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.

________

Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.

Too bad Joel is the predator here.

He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.

Good.

Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.

It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.

He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine. 

The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.

The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.

He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.

The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.

“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“

He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body. 

Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.

Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.

Just like he wanted.

________

You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.

In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.

The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”

“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.

“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.

“‘Fraid so.”

You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more. 

“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”

You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”

Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?

“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.

“The name’s Joel.”

________

It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.

“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”

You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.

You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.

What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend. 

It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.

You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.

Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.

You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.

________

Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.

You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.

“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options. 

He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.

“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”

Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag. 

A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.

A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.

Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.

“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks. 

Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale. 

The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest. 

The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.

Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.

“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request. 

Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage. 

“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts. 

You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.

“Come help, then.”

________

Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.

You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come. 

Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”

Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.

“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”

You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.

“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”

“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside. 

With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.

________

You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does. 

It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.

“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”

You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.

Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.

“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.” 

You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.

“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”

You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear. 

“Those, too,” Joel says. 

“Why?”

“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”

Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.

You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.

“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room. 

Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.

________

Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.

“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.

You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you. 

With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.

Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.

You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you. 

Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.

Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly. 

He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.

Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”

His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught. 

“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.

“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”

“W-what?” 

He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.

“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”

Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.

The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.

He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”

You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.

“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.

“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours. 

You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?

You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.

“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.

You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts. 

You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.

_______

You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.

You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.

You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice. 

Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?

The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place. 

You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist

[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 1

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence

Part 2

A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!

this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!

You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.

You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.

“Zus, how much for it all?” he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.

“How much are you offering?” was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, ‘the higher the offer, the better’ you remember being told before you left. They weren’t the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.

“25”

a grimace, “80”

a growl, “40”

a hum, “55”

“65. Final offer,” his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.

A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, “Wonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?” out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, “You have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.”

His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” and leaving.

You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.

As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.

-

White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.

It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.

Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.

They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.

You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.

The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.

Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.

It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.

"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.

The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.

You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.

Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.

The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.

Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.

Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".

He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.

"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.

Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.

"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.

The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.

Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.

Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.

A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "What’s your name?"

Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.

Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.

"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.

"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.

"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.

"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.

Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"

"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.

[sinkovia]

Promises

Simon Riley x GN!Reader

Zombie apocalypse au, Angst.

You and Simon had been fleeing from a relentless group of zombies. Your hearts pounded in your chests, and you were both gasping for breath, knowing that you were out of bullets and your only option now was to rely on your knives.

As you sprinted past an abandoned car, a zombie's hand shot out from beneath it, snatching your ankle and sending you sprawling to the ground. Reacting swiftly, you delivered a powerful kick to its decaying face. Simon reached down, yanking you back up to your feet, but more zombies were closing in.

One of the undead lunged at you with a frenzied swing, but he pushed it away just in time. With lightning-fast reflexes, you unsheathed your knife and plunged it into the head of the other approaching zombie.

Suddenly, Simon yelled out in pain, and you turned to see a zombie latched onto his leg, biting down. Panic welled up inside you, and without hesitation, you plunged your knife into the zombie's head, putting it down for good.

Breathing heavily, you grabbed Simon's hand, and together you ran until you found a door. You threw it open and rushed inside, with him right behind you. He quickly locked the door, muffling the growls, and banging from the other side. You both stood there and as you turned to face Simon, he took a step back, a tense silence between you.

"I'm fine, y/n," he assured you, but you knew he was hiding the truth. You had witnessed him being bitten, and it was just a matter of time before the infection took hold. You disregarded his plea and took another step toward him, your worry and love for him driving you forward. You were determined to see the extent of the injury.

"Y/n, please," he pleaded once more, putting his hand out, but you couldn't be swayed. You needed to know. His desperation grew as you closed the distance between you.

"For fuck's sake love, please, for once, just listen to me!" His voice trembled, tears welled up in your eyes, and you finally stood right in front of him.

"Please, just let me see." His despair-filled eyes met yours, and he let out a shaky breath as he lifted the bottom of his pants. You kneeled down, and your tears fell freely as you choked out a sob. The bite mark on his leg was a painful confirmation, and your heart ached seeing the torn flesh and the bright purple veins surrounding the wound.

He was turning.

And there was nothing either of you could do to stop it. You stood up and wrapped your arms around him tightly, sobbing into his chest. The inevitable was approaching, and the thought of witnessing your sweet boy become one of those creatures was a horrifying reality you couldn't escape.

"Simon, you're going to be okay," you cried out into his chest, your words muffled by your sobs. His arms wrapped around you tightly, even as he felt himself beginning to turn. The creeping transformation radiated up his body, and he felt his fingers twitching involuntarily.

"I love you so much, y/n," he whispered, his voice strained. His hands went to your face, gently pulling your tear-streaked face away so he could look into your eyes. "You know I love you, right? Never forget that, okay."

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head, your cries becoming more desperate. He knew time was running out, and he wanted to ensure you knew how much he cherished you.

"I love you, Simon. Please, please don't leave me. I'm not ready." you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear and grief. He looked down at his hands, making sure his gloves were secured tightly.

He didn't want to accidentally scratch you once he turned. Pulling his gun from his holster, he checked the barrel. He had told you he'd run out of bullets, but he had kept one, just in case something like this happened.

With a heavy heart, he handed the pistol to you. "There's one bullet. Please don't miss. Please don't leave me like them. That's all I ask baby," his voice filled with despair. You shook your head, tears flowing uncontrollably.

"I can't, Simon. I can't shoot you. I can't... kill you," you whispered, your words choked with grief, your trembling hands refusing to accept the inevitable.

Simon knew he didn't have much time left, his body betraying him with increasing urgency. His vision blurred, and his arm began to twitch involuntarily. You watched helplessly as the color in his eyes started to change, turning a milky white, their clarity clouded by the infection that was taking over. He groaned and fell to his knees, the twitching growing more pronounced. He made a last effort to focus on you, his gaze cloudy but determined. Your heart ached, seeing the man you loved in such a helpless and terrifying state.

"I know you won't be able to," he strained to speak through the agony, "but until then." He was fighting against the relentless virus that was now coursing through his veins, tearing him apart from the inside out.

"I... love... you," he uttered, his voice shaky and almost unrecognizable. He used his final shred of willpower to break his own jaw in a gruesome act, snapping the bone with a sickening sound. You cried out and fell to your knees, devastated as you watched the last remnants of your beloved Simon fade away, leaving behind only a monster.

He had now fully turned. His head snapped around, locking onto you. He lunged at you, driven by a primal instinct to tear into you. His jaw wouldn't close properly, making each biting attempt a futile effort. You struggled to keep him off you, pushing against him, but your strength was waning.

With all the strength you could muster, you desperately pushed him away. Struggling to your feet, you drew the pistol, and the gun trembled in your hand as you pointed it at his head. The inner battle of killing someone you loved, even in this altered form, was unbearable. Your heart ached as you cried out when he lunged at you again, knocking you down to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, I love you so much, Simon," you sobbed as he tried to gnaw at your shoulder, his efforts proving futile. The pistol shook in your grip, the weight of the moment unbearable. In his last moments of humanity, he had made an agonizing request, and you couldn't refuse.

With a trembling hand and tear-filled eyes, you raised the pistol and pressed it against his head. His last words echoed in your mind, and the memory of his love spurred you to act. You squeezed the trigger, and the gunshot reverberated through the room. Simon's body slumped, falling against you.

As you gently pushed him off, his lifeless body rolled to the side with a heavy thud. You leaned over his lifeless form, cradling him, your sobs echoing in the room. You could only hold him as you sobbed against his chest. Simon's last desperate attempt to protect you had been successful, as he had always promised you that no harm would ever come to you. Even in death, he had kept his promise.

[boowritess]

simon "ghost" riley x reader

semi 18+ under the cut not explicit but proceed with caution

a/n: just y'know been thinking about this man alot so have this, drink some water and have a good day/night ♡

part 1 part 2

picture him coming home from a mission;

it's nearing 1am he assumes you are asleep so he quietly enters the home. expecting to hear silence but only to hear small whimpers and moans coming from the bedroom.

sounds he hasn't heard in days. fuck- weeks.

sounds meant just for him.

before he could think the worse, a hand on his knife holster, seeing nothing but red, he halts.

from the shadows he stands, eyes locked on your figure in the middle of the bed, legs spread, hand between your thighs, eyes clenched close- "simon~" you softly moan.

"you called love?"

there was a gasp, your eyes opening searching the darkness for him.

one step into the dim lighting of the moon, there you drank in the sight of him, his gear was still on, as was his mask the only thing exposed to you was his eyes, the light from the moon making them shine with hunger as they greedily drank in the sight of you bare, just for him.

"simon please, need-" before you could cry out to him about how much you missed him and needed him, he shook his head, rough voice interrupting your plea,

"don't stop sweetheart- show me how much you missed me."

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Hero's Welcome

I am super duper unhappy with this. I just can't get it right, but if I don't post it, I'll get stuck in a rut. As always, please drop a comment below, they are loved and cherished.

This can be read as a The Way the Stars Love the Heavens one-shot or as a standalone, so you don't need to read my series to read this!!

Contains: Fluff, smut (oral sex M and F receiving, fingering, p in v).

2.2K words of pure smut.

Simon comes back after an op and you're happy to welcome him back to base.

It was the soft sound of his tac boots on the hard floors that gave Simon away. Despite how quietly he would always move, the long days of waiting for him to return to base had left you on edge and listening out for every sound that came by your door.

You didn't want to wait any longer, ladylike behaviour be damned, so when the footsteps got close enough to let you know he was right by your dorm, you yanked him into the room. He was still wearing all his tac gear, and he was already grinning when he laid eyes on you, ever the observant soldier, he must have been ready for your reaching arms the second he heard the creaking of your door. "Well hello lovely, did you miss me?"

You all but ripped his mask off his face and pressed your lips to his as your reply, and Simon smiled against your lips as you started to pull his vest off. Your fingers moved haphazardly, and he grabbed one shoulder strap as it fell from his chest. With the vest discarded, you started on the various weapons strapped to his body, finally needing to break away from his lips and look as the task grew.

"You need a hand?" He watched you remove the knife from his hip, your fingers unfocused and rushed, and you nodded as he unbuckled the holster from his other hip and placed it and the gun it held on the ever-growing pile. You reached towards the small of his back, gripping the wad of metal pressed against his skin and pulled it free from the tiny pouch protecting his body.

You laughed when it came into view, and Simon's easy grin had your heart fluttering. "What the hell do you need a trench knife for? The world wars ended a long time ago, dearest."

"The knuckles detach, you know, in case the knife gets stuck." He took it from you and separated the pieces. "See?"

You shook your head and sighed. "Alright then."

You dropped down to your knees to remove his shoes, and he smiled down at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm really getting to gold star treatment, aren't I love?"

"Of course." The knife on his left ankle went first, then the gun on his right and you made your way back up his body to take off his belt. He stopped you, wrapping his hand gently around your wrists before placing your hand on his shoulders and leaning down to kiss you. You felt him grip the edge of your shirt and you lifted your arms as he pulled it over your head.

"Fuck you're so fucking beautiful. I'm the luckiest man on Earth." His lips found your neck, and the added roughness of his beard from being in the field for a week without shaving had you taking in a sharp breath as the texture sent shivers down your spine.

His shirt went next, and he took two steps back to accommodate the height you didn't have so you could pull it off his body. You fought back a giggle, and he brushed his fingers over the apple of your cheek as he looked at you fondly. "What it is love."

"I was hoping I'd find a razor blade taped somewhere." The look on his face told you all you needed to know, and your suspicions were confirmed when he started to undo his belt with a smile. You helped him, pushing his camo pants off his hips and down to a pile on the floor. He had something long and impossibly thing strapped to his thigh, and your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as you went to undo the strap.

"It's a KGB concealed blade, you know, in case of a pat down." Nevertheless, it joined its brothers and sisters on the pile on your table, and Simon thanked you for all your hard work with another kiss as he removed your bra.

You nipped his lower lip, and one hand went from your hip to your breast so he could play with your nipple. He wasn't as gentle as he usually was, and it had you gasping through the kiss as the roughness of his battle-hardened fingers danced across your sensitive skin. You slid your hand down his body and palmed his cock, and he grunted when you rubbed him through the fabric.

You pulled away from his lips and pressed yours to his cheek, then his chin, then you dipped your head to kiss his neck, stopping briefly from sucking a mark on his throat. "I think I should show you how much I missed you."

His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he used his fingertips to draw circles on your breast. "And how are you going to do that, lovely?"

You smiled and slowly dropped to your knees, pressing kisses to his chest and abs as you went. "I have some ideas."

One of his massive hands found the back of your head as you pulled his boxers down. You used the precum beading at the head to slick your way down as you stroked him, and he groaned when you tightened your hand on the upstroke. You smiled up at him before leaning in and licking him from base to tip like an ice cream, and you felt his fingers tense as he stopped himself from digging them into your hair.

You sucked the tip into your mouth, and he took in a breath as the heat of your mouth made his toes tingle. His head fell back, and his breath quickened as you took him further in, one of your hands moving from his hip to play with his balls. He moaned, his chest rumbling as his hand squeezed your shoulder rhythmically.

He started to rock his hips, a slow and steady back and forth that still let you set the pace, and you could tell by the force of the hand on your shoulder that he was holding back. You took your hand off his balls and moved it to the part of his cock that your mouth couldn't reach, and Simon grunted and a breath left his chest. "Fuckin' ell love, you're gonna kill me."

You hummed an affirmative and pulled back, using both your hands to take the place of your mouth. "Death by blow job, what a way to go."

He shook his head and huffed. "You're asking for it now." He pulled your hands off of him and lifted you up by your upper arms, manhandling you to the bed. "What makes you think it's ok to give me so much lip."

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, and he took in your expression before ripping your trousers off, the buttons flying everywhere as you protested. "Hey, those were my favourite."

"I'll repair them for you, don't worry love." He knew he would and the vision of him sitting on the bed with a tiny sewing needle in his hand made you giggle. The sound of ripping pulled you away from your thoughts, and you looked towards his hands, there was no way he could fix your panties, he had torn them in two.

He dropped down and knelt on the floor before manhandling you again, throwing your legs over his shoulders and diving in, licking you from entrance to clit as he moaned. He went in like a man eating his last meal, and you knew you would have bruises in the morning with how hard his hand were squeezing your thighs.

With your ass off the edge, Simon had to support the weight of your legs and he took full advantage, using his massive arms to maneuver you so you couldn't move away from growing pleasure as he increased his efforts with his mouth. He dropped one of your legs but shifted to maintain control as his hand slid up your inner thigh and to your core and moved his mouth to focus solely on your clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck." The feeling of his fingers sliding inside you was wonderful, and the slow pace juxtaposed to the enthusiastic one he had taken with his mouth meant that you felt every ridge of his digits. He crooked his fingers to rub your G-spot and you arched toward his mouth as you grew closer to the edge.

You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your growing moans, aware that the walls could only keep so much away, and you didn't want your friends to hear how desperate you must have sounded as Simon touched you. Suddenly, everything stopped and the hand he was using to pleasure you was wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth. "None of that Love, I want to hear you."

"But…" You couldn't really think of a response, not when he was looking at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

"No buts, be good for me Love and let me hear how good I make you feel." He dove right back in, and your fingers gripped the sheets as the sensations picked up exactly where they left off. You tried to muffle the whimpers, but you were rushing towards the peak like a runaway train.

Your hands found his head, and you scratched his scalp and pushed his head into you, and with one more stroke to your G-spot, your vision went white as the pleasure overtook you. The vibrations of his moans only made the feeling stronger, and he didn't seem to mind the way you were yanking his hair as the orgasm slowly faded.

He didn't stop, and you pushed his head away softly as he chuckled. "Simon, enough."

He pulled away and wiped his face with his hand before standing up with a grin. "You right there love?"

You blinked in indignation. "Am I right? What kind of question is that?"

He was smug, his handsome face twinkling with ego. "I'm just making sure."

You yanked him downwards and used the momentum to flip yourself on top of him, his hands moving to your hips as you settled on top of him. "The bed's too small to flip again, so what are you going to do now?"

He ran one hand up and down your leg while the other moved to your cheek to pull you down for a kiss, and he nipped your lower lip as the kiss deepened. He pulled back, only far enough to speak through his smirk. "Absolutely nothing."

You nodded and brought your hand from where it was resting on his chest to wrap around his cock, jacking it a few times before holding it still so you could slide down slowly. He was always just a little too much, but like this, he was overwhelming, hitting every single space you had until it felt like you were going to burst.

You took in a breath and started to rock slowly, moving your hips back and forth while Simon rubbed gentle circles on your thighs with his thumbs. "You're doing so good for me, Love." You bent at the waist and kissed him, and he ran his hands up and down your back as he started to match your pace.

The kiss turned rough, and he bent one knee to gain more leverage as he overtook the pace. You found yourself unable to straighten back up as he angled his hips to hit your G-spot, and then he was taking your hand off his heaving chest and placing it between your legs. "Touch yourself for me, Love."

You did as he asked, rubbing small circles on your clit as he gripped your hips so tight you knew you'd have bruises by the time the night was up. Simon was grunting like an animal as thrusts increased in force, and your body rocked with each one as your skin started to tingle with release once again. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, and his hands moved to the backs of your thighs for more leverage as you started to clench around him.

"Come on Love, I know you're close, I can feel it, just let go for me." You could tell by the glint in his voice that he was close behind you, and your fingers sped up on your clit as he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans like a man starved as you fell over the edge. His hips stuttered and he held you to him as he pulsed inside you.

With his hips still, you rested on top of his chest to catch your breath while he ran his hands over any skin he could reach. "You need anything from me Love?"

You sighed and turned your head so you could rest your ear against his chest as a steady thumb filled your ear. "No dearest." You smiled softly and rubbed his nose with yours. "Welcome back."

He grinned and kissed you, it was full of love and affection, and your heart swelled as he held your face while his lips moved against yours. He pulled back with one last peck and put his forehead on yours with a sigh. "It's good to be back. I love you y/n."

You mirrored his sigh, enjoying the intimate contact as you grew sleepy. "I love you too Simon."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @shuttlelauncher81 @carma-fanficaddict

[cowyolks]

Petals (König x Reader)

Summary: Being socially awkward makes it hard to say just about anything. König is as socially awkward as it comes. Sometimes actions speak louder than words.

Part Two

Warnings: typical cod violence, some injuries, other than that it’s pure fluff.

Words: Way too damn long, oop

It’s super easy to overlook the aspect of comfort and love when it wasn’t smacked directly in your face. You happened to be as oblivious as a rock when it came to love and affection, which is why it was so hard for you to believe that someone truly enjoyed having you around. That was until one of the soldiers told you to open your eyes and take a glance at the little things. They pointed out how you had a secret admirer this whole time, and he had been right under your nose.

They told you that König had feelings for you.

The first time someone pointed it out you shrugged it off, saying he was just being a friendly teammate.

You were both undercover, on a co-op mission at a local Russian casino, attempting to find a rising threat and take him down. You had put on your best dress, the black fitting material was not something you were used to, but it was all part of the job.

It was supposed to be easy. You were to pose as a gambler, blending in to the casino and sneaking your way to a weapons cache that was storing illegal assault rifles to sell to the public in Moscow.

You were slightly nervous, only because you were ordered to do the opposite of your typical specialties. You were the sniper of the faction, and being out in the open made you feel uneasy. König, as much as you trusted his skills was to be the one watching over you from the rooftops. He had gotten better at staying still, but his tall frame would be hard to conceal in such a cramped casino.

“König, you copy?” You brought your hand to your ear, feeling the barely visible piece of your comm. There was a faint shuffle, “I copy.” He murmured quietly, you could hear the anxiety dripping off his voice. You knew of his difficulty when it came to interacting with others. You had tried to assure him you would never ever make him feel less of a soldier for it, yet he still hardly spoke outside of missions, except to you on occasion.

“Hey, its alright. You won’t be speaking to anyone. Leave the talking to me.” You assured, adjusting the expensive ruby necklace around your throat. “That’s not why I’m anxious.” He mumbled. You furrowed your brow in confusion.

“What is it? I need you at your best, so let me know before I’m with the enemy,” you prodded, hoping it wasn’t serious enough for him to be so anxious he’d miss his shots. You heard a quiet huff, “I don’t like you being in the middle of this.”

You deflated, relaxing a bit as he admitted what was troubling him. “Relax, big guy, I’ll be fine and that’s a promise. Besides I’ve got you looking after me. I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine, right?”

“Right.” He added, just as you ascended the steps and into the casino. “Remember, I’ll draw him away, take him down and confiscate the guns. Easy peasy.”

It had indeed not been easy peasy. You had posed as a regular gambler, bidding your expensive necklace to the drug lord, yet he didn’t seem interested in it. “If I win, I get to see who you’ve been communicating to you in that little comm of yours.” He sneered as he shuffled a poker chips between his fingers.

You gulped, watching as he rose from the table as his other guards pulled weapons from their waistbands and pointed them all at you. Shit. You brought your hands up, lowering your shoulders in defeat. Even though you had your secondary hidden in a thigh holster, you could never reach it without being shot down.

“You come in here thinking you could beat me?” The terrorist pulled you against him, you squirmed, fighting against his hold until a knife was pressed to your throat. He pulled the comm from your ear, before pushing down.

“I’ve got your soldier. Surrender and maybe I’ll let her live and we can go about our days.” The terrorist growled as he was met with silence. But your eyes caught sight of König behind one of the guards. There was five of them, you’ve seen him take out more, but you couldn’t move to help with the knife pressed to your throat.

Your eyes locked, as the mountain of a man pressed a finger to his mask, telling you to stay quiet. Quickly you adverted your eyes. You heard the nearly silent noise of his knife slicing through skin. The body dropped, but it was enough of a thud to alert the other guards and the boss. “Don’t fucking move!” The terrorist screamed in your ear, pinning you behind him as he faced König, whose eyes were fiery under his sniper hood.

“Let her go and I won’t kill you.” His voice was lower than what you were used to. The terrorist laughed, pressing you closer to him in a disgusting way. You saw König grip his weapon tighter. Carefully you inched your fingers closer to your pistol.

“I’ve got you surrounded. Drop your weapon. Now!” König did the opposite, nodding to you in a subtle way. You brought your fingers to your weapon, bringing it up and firing a round into the man’s side. He fell, just as you pulled his hand so the knife wouldn’t slice your neck. König took care of the rest, throwing a knife into a soldier before shooting two rounds into the other two.

He turned to you, jogging closer as your hands shook. It’s been a while since you’ve been that close to dying. “You alright?” He asked, slightly winded from the men he had brought down. All you could do was nod your head, taking a long breath.

You glanced up to König, but his eyes flashed, catching sight of the terrorist cocking his gun and raising it to the back of your head. You heard the bang just as he pushed you out the way. König let out a strangled noise as the bullet pierced his arm, but it didn’t stop him from raising up his pistol and shooting the man in the head.

While the mission was regarded as a success, you still felt bad as the two of you took a chopper home, another following behind with the assault rifles. König had his arm wrapped and stitched by one of the medics and was resting next to you with his eyes closed.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologized guiltily as he popped one eye open to glance at you. The man held his breath, scooting closer to you so your shoulder hit his bicep. “Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled, glancing down at you through his sniper hood.

“You got shot because of me, you almost died because of me. If I hadn’t-”

“And I would do it again. In a heartbeat.” König vowed, speaking so strongly you knew he had to be sincere. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the first time you had touched him outside of a mission. It may have meant little to everyone else, but to König it was everything.

The second time someone had mentioned just how well attuned he was to you. You shrugged it off again, he was just being respectful.

The team had a day off, not away from the base of course, but a day where you could all gather in the lounge and have a couple of drinks and play pool.

You had launched into a story, your eyes lighting up in a way that made König’s heart beat just a bit faster. You had used wild hand gestures, as the other boys played pool. But rather than listening to you speak most of them were invested in sinking the ball in the slot.

You became aware of just how little people were interacting to your story, a frown pulling across your lips as you dropped your hands in your lap.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice scared you, as you placed a hand over your heart. “Oh, no one was listening anyways.” You shrugged it off, actually kind of hurt that no one cared to hear what you had to say.

“I was listening.” He insisted, his blue eyes softened through his mask. König had been listening intently, loving how your eyes lit up and how pretty you looked as you scrunched your nose.

“You seem to be the only one.” You admitted before your eyes grew excited again. “You want a drink? I’ll make you one for listening to me ramble.” You offered, to which König nodded his head before standing from the chair he sat in.

You crouched below the bar, pulling out a nice bottle of whiskey you had been saving. You poured him a glass before sliding it over to him, watching as his fingers wrapped completely around it. You chuckled, taking in the sight with soft eyes. “I wonder how many of those it would take to get you feeling tipsy.”

“Quite a few.” König brought up his mask a fraction, something he hardly did when it was just himself, let alone in front of you. Your eyes studied his sharp jaw, brushed with a light-colored stubble. He had pretty pink lips, and a rather impressive Cupid’s bow.

You could see him tense up slightly, yet he still quickly downed the liquid you had gave him. When you didn’t break your gaze he was quick to ask, “Is something wrong?” He spoke quickly and nervous.

“Course not,” you denied, flicking your gaze back up to his eyes. You sat up straighter, taking a sip of the burning whiskey. “You ever take your mask off?” You asked gently, gauging his reaction.

You saw his eyelids crinkle, a good sign that he was grinning slightly. “Sometimes.” He warmly hinted, as he slid his glass towards you. You were quick to fill it again, raising your own towards him, signaling for a toast.

“To your face. I do hope I’ll see it sometime.” You spoke with a laugh in your tone.

König took a sip, only thinking that you’d be the one he would want to show himself to.

Finally you fully understood just how well actions spoke louder than words a few months later. Missions ran smooth, and partnered with König you were your best yet. The two of you had worked like an oiled machine, and when one lacked the other picked up the slack.

You learnt little things about König the more you worked together. How he had a fascination for painting and drawing despite his large hands. He was very good at pointing out noises of wildlife, surprising you when he knew the different chirps of birds.

You learnt his quirks too, how when he was anxious he would puncture his nails into his palms. You’d gotten into the habit of gently holding his hand, feeling his fingers wrap to your wrist, holding it as if it was the most fragile thing.

So while you learnt his quirks, he learnt of yours. How you’d bounce your knee up and down at briefings, he’d put his palm on your thigh, pushing down your kneecap to stop the distracting noise. He also learnt of how you could name your favorite flowers within seconds, pinpoint that your favorite were cornflowers.

It’s how he’d ended in the middle of the field as the team had downtime on their mission until they were shipped out for the second phase. He was sore and had received a cut across his eyebrow a week prior, the stitches itching slightly and needing to come out. Yet König ignored the itchy feeling while he scoured the area for wild cornflowers, hoping to find a couple to gift you and to confess.

Confess that after this past year he had fallen, and fallen hard.

“Whatcha doing out here, König?” Your voice interrupted his thoughts just as he spotted a cluster of the flowers. “Thinking.” He responded bluntly, before lowering to his knees and sitting in the soft grass. You always had a way of making the words disappear in his brain.

“Mind if I think with you?” You teased, not waiting for an answer before plopping down next to him. König groaned softly, as he itched the side of his head, helplessly attempting to get the horrible sensation.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, shifting so you were in front of his face. He dropped his hand, letting it fall to the grass where he swung his fingers back and forth. “Damn stitches, bout time they came out.” He growled.

You tilted your head, warmly glancing at his blue eyes . “I can take them out for you.” You offered before forgetting about the obvious factor of his hood. You cringed, “never mind, I forgot about your mask.” You scolded yourself, but your mouth dropped open as König reached behind him, slowly pulling the hood from his face.

“König…” You breathed, watching as he looked at you with a gaze you were never able to fully see. He was beautiful, his light hair trimmed neatly, and his nose rather long. His eyebrow stitch was rather small, only a couple loops around. You shook your head, the two of you chose to say nothing as you got to work cutting the strings and pulling them out. His eyes would look up to you. At this point, König was sprawled out across the grass, with him being so tall you wouldn’t have been able to reach his face.

He wouldn’t admit how nice your fingertips felt against his face, one hand holding him still as it brushed across his cheek.

“I can feel you staring.” You commented as you pulled the last stitch. König blushed, averting his eyes, mumbling lowly, “can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

Your heart quickened as he picked a singular flower, holding it out to you with a soft grin. You took it in your grasp, noticing the familiar petals. “I ought to go, thank you.” He chickened, and for his size he moved fast, making his way to the base. As he left a paper slipped from his pocket. You were about to call out to him, but curiosity got the better of you.

You unfolded the paper, gasping in surprise at the image. Drawn in pencil was yourself, a small smile on your lips as you cradled your head in your hand. Scribbled at the bottom was a poem,

If only she knew,

My love for her would never settle,

She was everything,

Sweeter than her favorite flower’s petals.

[moonstruck-poet]

Rewrite The Stars

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader

Summary - The story of how you two manage to unravel the complexities that concern a relationship based on the song 'Rewrite The Stars'

Hope you'll enjoy it!!!

You know I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide. You know you want me, so don't keep saying our hands are tied.

Kaz Brekker, you muttered under your breath and kicked a small stone with as much strength as you could muster, ignoring the sharp pain that followed.

He really was impossible that one. Tested your patience to such a level that you were almost considering giving up.

Almost.

But you weren't known as the never giving up person for nothing. You would try to make him see sense.

You halted in your path towards the Crow Club to analyse your thoughts which were a hundred percent occupied by that young boy whom everyone called Dirtyhands.

He had you completely charmed, as could be observed since he was the one running rent free through your mind at all times when you weren't risking your life for the same man.

So taking a deep breath and resting your hand on your holster, you entered your home with a poker face and scanned everything to see that all was going on smoothly.

"All good here?" You questioned Rotty and downed a shot of whiskey, scrunching your nose at the bitter after taste.

"Everything under control ma'am, got a lotta good pigeons," he grinned and your lips twitched sideways.

"What's up, Jes?" You asked the gunslinger who was sitting on one of the stools near the bar, twirling his pistol in his hand.

"Nothing, I'm bored. Need some action," he groaned and stretched upwards.

"Of course you do," you laughed softly. "Where are the others?"

"Off doing saints know what".

"Kaz still ain't budging?" He asked suddenly, his tone a little gentler.

"No," you said shortly and clenched your jaw. Suddenly not wanting to thing about him.

Jesper sighed loudly, "He is one of the most idiotic person I know. He doesn't even seem to realise he's missing out on the best thing that's happened to him".

You smiled at that, it was a small one but nevertheless a smile after all.

"If I wasn't so unbelievably enamoured by messy haired guys who are quite a shot at chemistry, I would've gone for you honestly".

"I'm flattered, Fahey".

"But seriously tho, love. What's his reason for denying you, huh?"

"Kaz thinks we're not good together," you answered abruptly.

"Not good together my ass," he rolled his eyes in utter annoyance. "You deserve so much better than him. I don't understand how you even managed to fall for him".

"Falling for him wasn't falling at all, Jes. It was like walking into a house and just knowing that you're home," you whispered.

And there he was, the hindrance to your concentration, the object of your continuous staring, Kaz Brekker.

He took off his hat, revealing his rather well defined featured that seemed to be sculpted with a help of a knife.

Your eyes took his figure in. Those all black clothes with that unmistakable cane was his entire persona that he had built for himself.

Your gaze softened at the sight of his messed up hair, the few strands that had fallen on his pale forehead making your heart skip a tiny beat.

"You really love him don't you?" You snapped from your staring at Jesper's question."I guess I do," you answered, eyes following him as he walked towards you with what you assumed to be another one of those tasks that he always gave you, just because of the amount of trust he had.

===============================

You claim it's not in the cards and fate is pulling you miles away and out of a reach from me. But you're hearing my heart so who can stop me if I decide, it's on my destiny?

"Fucking hell this idiot of a man," you groaned and ran frantically towards the mount of wounded people.

You had indeed raided one of the most well protected safe of the most dangerous person and there were bound to be major consequences.

Your heart dropped after seeing Wylan lying near a building wreckage and you sprinted despite the throbbing pain in your calf and ignoring the blood flowing down one side of your head and torso.

"Hey," you whispered, getting down to your knees and shaking the boy. "Wylan, come on. I need you, come on wake up," phrases fell from your lips absently.

And he did wake up and you felt as though your feet were back again on solid ground. He woke up, immediately clutching his head and looked around, eyes squinting. "Where are the others?" he said hoarsely.

"Everybody is fine, everyone except for Kaz and we're all looking for him," you murmured, the relief fading away for panic to seize control of your weak heart again.

He immediately noticed your tensed posture and really looked at you, succeeding in reading your internal turmoil.

"Up you get," he suddenly said in an authoritative voice. "We're gonna go and find Kaz right now," he got up and held out his arm for you to grasp.

You simply stared before shaking yourself off and following his lead, glad to have someone to listen to instead of following your stupid thoughts all alone.

The fear in both you and Wylan seemed to increase tenfold after witnessing gruesome scenes all around you. But you both swallowed it harshly and kept a determined spirit, him more than you actually.

Because naturally your heart always seemed to lose its stone cold interior upon the mention of a specific someone.

"Saints," Wylan suddenly came to an abrupt halt and his eyes widened as he pointed to the shed of a shop that was almost on the verge on collapsing entirely. And underneath all of that rubble was Kaz.

"Oh god," was all that escaped your lips and you didn't think before running towards him, not even noticing a large chunk of the ceiling falling om your shoulder.

"Kaz," you said, leaning down in front of him. Your throat burned at his terrible state. His hair completely dishevelled, numerous cuts and blood stains littering his body, eyes half closed as he gazed ahead endlessly.

"Kaz!" You said again and Wylan softly patted his shoulder, accidentally touching his bare skin where the shirt was torn and in the process jolting awake the unconscious boy.

"Good gracious," you prayed and stepped back after seeing the anxiety on his face. "Kaz you have to let me, or you're going to die you bastard," you frowned but waited and turned towards Wylan, "Will you go and tell the others that we've found him? They'll be there at our decided headquarters, just inform them quickly please and get Nina as soon as you can," you instructed and he set off instantly.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and clenched your jaw hard before moving closer and putting one hand behind his shoulders, your heart shattering a little at his sharp intake of breath. "I'm so sorry but I have to do this," you said with a rather broken voice and picked him up.

Halfway through the route he let out a loud groan and you almost dropped him but then steadied yourself and halted.

"What's wrong, Kaz?"

His eyes were scrunched up in pain and it was then that you noticed the bullet which was wedged on the side of his chest and you froze at the sight.

"No no no," your muscles seemed rooted to the spot and the only thought runnung through your mind was that he was going to die. Kaz Brekker was going to die.

"Shit," you muttered and hastened your pace, struggling slightly under the weight of his rather heavy body but you did manage to reach the secret meeting place just in time.

"NINA!" You yelled and placed him on the nearest couch. "NINA!"

She was out in a second, all others following close behind and breathing in sharply at the sight of their leader beaten up so badly.

"Th- There's a bullet through his s- side," you said, panting as suddenly there was a lack of oxygen in the air. "There's a bullet Nina! Quick come on you gotta get it out. You have t- to get it out, quick!"

"Wylan," Nina gestured with her eyes and he understood, gently taking you by the shoulders and pulling you away.

"No! What're you doing?! Wylan stop it!"

"He's going to be okay, let me clean up your wounds too".

"I'm fine! But he's not! He needs me okay? I- I can't leave him lying there like that! I can't- I can't-" you broke off and gulped. Your eyes tearing up as you let yourself be pulled away from him.

But tell me, how is one supposed to survive when their lifeline itself is im danger?

You were sitting in one of the rooms all alone, looking out of the window absentmindedly. Wylan had graciously cleaned and bandaged all your injuries amd you didn't even have the heart to say a simple thanks to him.

Inej had dropped by a few minutes ago with a small plate of food and you hadn't bothered to appreciate her with a small nod.

All that rang through your mind was Nina's conversation with Matthias that you had accidentally overheard.

"There were not one but two bullets, Matthias. And they were the poisonous kind, the ones that work on paralysing and slowly killing the body of the victim. He's taken quite a hit that one".

He's taken quite a hit that one...

A lump welled up in your throat as you mulled over every incident when you were on the brink of losing him forever.

Once when you two were fourteen, once when you were sixteen and now at the very tender age of seventeen, Kaz was slipping through your grasp again.

Fate was constantly pulling you apart, making you go as far as possible from each other but it had been enough now, you simply couldn't handle it.

You swallowed down the burning sensation and went quietly towards the room where Kaz was fighting for his life. Your breath got caught upon seeing his rather peaceful face. No furrowed eyebrows, not a crease on his forehead, he seemed very much at ease.

You took a seat next to him, tears on the verge of falling but you blinked then away stubbornly. You weren't one to cry that easily, but control seemed to jump out of the window whenever he was involved.

"Kaz," you whispered as though he would open his eyes that very second and you would be met with dark brown irises that you so loved.

"Here we are again huh," you murmured and heaved a deep sigh. "Its been what 3 times now that we were in this same scenario?"

You kept on making small talks, it beimg useless towards him but actually helping you to get over your emotions.

"You don't understand the way my heart breaks when you get hurt this badly, Brekker," you said softly. "I've tried to tell you so many times but you're one stubborn asshole aren't you?"

You exhaled and your eyes gazed at his beautiful features, from his sharp eyebrows, to long eyelashes and then to his perfect lips.

"You have to wake up, Kaz. You will," you said firmly. "I don't think I can function properly without you," you looked down at your hands.

"Get well soon, love," you whispered the words and despite being unconscious, rhey ringed in Kaz's ears. Love, you had called him. He felt something brush against his forehead, pushing away strands of hair and tickling him a little.

But then the warm feeling was gone and once again he was alone, cold, and empty.

===============================

What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart, you'll be the one I was meant to find. It's up to you, and it's up to me, no one could say what we get to be. So why don't we rewrite the stars? And maybe the world could be ours, tonight.

"Saints this is all so ridiculous," Jesper muttered and frowned deeply at the comedic costume that he was supposed to wear. "Couldn't you have gotten something better?"

"You either have the choice to wear it or run around naked, I don't care. All I want is a proper distraction. The choice is yours," Kaz said easily and went back to scrutinising the map placed on the table.

Jesper rolled his eyes but wore the clothes anyways and you snorted making him give you a sharp glare.

"I'll shoot you, I swear," he threatened weakly when you fully cackled. "It's not fair that you get to dress up like a literal princess when I'm here looking equivalent to a clown!"

"I'm afraid you won't make a very pretty princess Jes," Inej smiled as she sharpened her knives with without even looking at them.

"Oh I don't, Inej. He might make a wonderful, lovely girl," Nina piped in and you laughed.

"Enough chatting please," Kaz interrupted your lighthearted teasing making the Heartrender scowl.

"You always have to interrupt the best moments between us don't you?" She glared but the man didn't as much give a shit.

"Wylan you're ready with your explosives? Confident they'll go off exactly when we want them to?" He asked and received a confirming nod.

"We'll leave in about five minutes exactly," he checked his watch and scanned all of the faces staring at his intently. "Off you go then. I want absolutely no detours from anyone, I'm talking especially to you, Jesper," he narrowed his stare to the Zemeni who merely shrugged and grinned.

"Goodluck everybody," he said and they all left for their respective work. "Let's go," he said to you and you got up, instantly feeling uncomfortable in the rather beautiful dress and the heels.

This was new and uncharted territory, something you had never even worn before in your entire life. But you liked it. It didn't match your usual attire at all, but a change at times was welcomed on your part.

You two were invited, or rather you had invited yourselves to the ball that was supposed to take place. It was the perfect opportunity to infiltrate and steal.

"Remember all we have to do is stay for the entire program, we cannot afford any mishaps to happen. No tiny slipups at all or the entire plan goes down the drains," Kaz said as you slowly walked to the venue.

"I know Kaz," you sighed at his nagging. "You can trust me, you know?"

"I know," he said lowly and looked straight up, refusing to make eye contact.

Your eyes flitted to look at his side profile. It was sharp, the streetlights highlighting his carved features and your heart started running at an unbelievable speed.

He had for once ditched his long coat and had instead worn an all black suit with a black tie. And saints did he look amazing. Kaz Brekker seemed to have no idea at just how unsettled and in love you were.

Just as you were about to enter the grand hall, he stopped you and offered his arm. He was also not wearing his gloves, wanting to stay off suspicion as much as possible.

"You sure? We don't have to do this," you said softly but he insisted and you hesitatingly wrapped your fingers around his elbow.

Kaz didn't as such flinch from your touch, which just proved that he did trust you a lot.

"Ah there you are! Mr and Mrs Helvar am I right?" An elderly man beamed at you two and Kaz instantly transformed into a complete stranger in mere seconds.

"Absolutely!" He smiled widely, his lips stretching in an unfamiliar way and you almost cringed at how fake it looked, but that was only because you knew him.

"Alright alright that's enough," you whispered after the host went away to greet someone else. "Please bring back the Kaz I know".

He rolled his eyes and returned to his cool demeanour. You were lounging near the bar, sipping drinks to pass time while also maintaining a strict checking of the area.

"How much longer do we have to stay?" You asked after about an hour.

"The party's only just began. It'll take time I think," he answered and looked around.

"These heels are killing me," you groaned. "I need my shoes back".

He didn't say anything but his jaw had clenched, as it always did when he felt a little helpless and unsure. He glanced at your feet before returning his gaze back to the ballroom.

"Saints he's here again," you said suddenly and he turned to see the same man walking towards you two once again.

"You've been sitting for quite a time now! Come on then let's get you on your feet. Don't keep such a beautiful lady waiting, Mr Helvar," he grinned cheekily, eyes clearly trailing down your body.

"I'll make sure," Kaz answered rather tightly, stepping in between his line of sight and blocking you from his filthy eyes. He looked at you and held out his hand, you stopped for a tiny second before placing your bare palm into his cold one.

He inhaled sharply but at the same time gently pulled you towards the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on the host who seemed to be watching your every move.

"He's just wrote himself a death wish," your fake husband grumbled in annoyance which soon turned into a forced smile after waving at someone.

"Loosen up now, we have to dance," you said and were surprised immensely when his fingers intertwined with yours and his other palm was slowly making its way to be placed on your waist.

He glanced in your eyes and all you offered was a gorgeous smile. That seemed to be all that was required and the tips of his fingers brushed your waist before halting there.

Your free hand was on his shoulder and you two swayed, your bodies closer than ever before. And you thought to youself, you could definitely get used to this.

Not the elegant gown or the grand party, not at all. But these small but significant moments of intimacy with him.

"This is nice," your small whisper broke the silence as you danced, engaged in your own little rhythm. Too occupied with each other to even pay the slightest attention elsewhere.

"It is," he nodded and this time made eye contact without hesitation. The force was so strong and powerful that you couldn't feel anything except for the rapid thumping of your heart.

Everybody else seemed to fade as you two danced the moment away, completely taken by each other as you swayed. And you thought, it wasn't so bad was it.

And Kaz gave you a look which seemed to answer your question, it was as if he had clearly read your mind.

It's not so bad, his eyes reflected and you couldn't stop the small smile which soon fell off after another question had plagued your mind.

'Then why? Why can't we give this a shot? Give us a shot?'

"It's always up to us you know," you murmured suddenly, not bothering to elaborate because you knew he understood it well enough.

"Nobody has a damn say in what the hell we do with our lives. It's always up to you and me," you repeated and smiled tightly.

While he just stared at your face, taking notice of the way your heart was literally shattering in front of him. And all he wanted was to tell you that he loved you too, had been loving you since ages.

But you already knew that, you weren't oblivious for saint's sake. You knew he had fallen as hard for you as you had for him. His problem was that he refused to accept it, for god knows what reason.

===============================

Ahem ahem... do we need a part 2?

Preferably from Mr Brekker's pov? 👀

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 8

summary: You, Hunter, and the squad head to your home village for a fight that could put an end to this crisis, no matter whose side wins.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 7.115k

chapter 7 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 9

chapter 8 ⟹

You checked yourself over in the reflector as you secured your belt in place. Putting on your combat gear was like returning home, bringing you back to the truest and most familiar version of yourself. You were beginning to miss the simplicity of it more and more.

And Hunter’s earnest gaze on you made it all the more appealing to have on.

You smiled before you threw him a glance over your shoulder. He was leaning against one of your bedposts, his arms crossed and his eyes busy with the sight of you. You shook your head fondly and turned back to the reflector, reaching for your gloves before your holsters.

“It still makes me laugh.” Your tone was lighthearted as you pulled the leather over your hands.

Hunter’s voice was even lower than usual. “What does?”

You huffed and grabbed your first holster. “The fact you like this look more than the gowns.”

Hunter hummed, and the sound gave you pause for a moment. “I like both.” You bit back a smile and tightened the straps around your thigh. “But I get the feeling you prefer this look, and it’s that confidence that makes this… well, attractive.”

You beamed and sheathed your knife. He was getting better with his vulnerability already. “Thank you, Hunt.” You grabbed the second holster.

“I like that name, too.” You looked up for a moment to see Hunter approaching you, his helmet left behind on your bed. “The last time you said it…”

“I remember.” You raised your brow at him. “We can’t go down that road right now. We’ve already indulged enough.”

Hunter raised a hand to your chin, his stare searching yours with a breathless mixture of admiration, affection, and desire. “I’m not sure it’ll ever be enough.” He released a mirthless chuckle. “Not when I know what I know now.”

Your ears burned, and the shyness forced you to look down at the holster in your hands. “I understand.” You attached the top part of the holster to your belt. “I just have to put my people first.”

“I agree.” Hunter stopped you for a moment, his gloved hands covering yours as he nodded. “I can take it from here.”

You grinned as he secured the straps of the holster to your thigh. It was the same one he had fixed back in the ballroom what felt like ages ago. So much time together, with so much danger, really made it pass differently.

Once he was done, Hunter rose back to his full height. You holstered your blaster and set your gloved hands on his shoulder to push yourself high enough for a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Sergeant.” You pulled away with a deep breath, allowing yourself one last smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks before forcing yourself to focus. “Is the squad here yet?”

Hunter nodded and gestured with his head to your bedroom door. “They got here a minute ago or so.”

You returned his nod and stepped away to grab your hood and mask. “Do you have your poncho?”

“Yeah, it’s in my pack.” Hunter had gone to grab his helmet, which he held under his arm as he joined you once again. “You ready to get started?”

You nodded, and though you portrayed the true strength and determination you felt, you were still grateful for the reassuring touch of his hand on your back as the two of you headed into the suite. Hunter went for the doors as you stood by the holotable, waiting for Echo or Tech to plug in the plans they had all been working on. The doors opened when Hunter activated them, and he ushered his squad in with a wave of his head.

Wrecker nearly tackled the others to get in first. “There you are!” He laughed and all but ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace that took your feet off the floor. You laughed in surprise and joy as you tried your best to reciprocate the unexpected gesture.

Hunter’s voice was strained with both worry and embarrassment as he spoke up. “Wrecker, put her down.”

“Aw, don’t get jealous, Hunter.” Wrecker set you down and squeezed your shoulder. “She’s one of us, now. She deserves all the same greetings.”

“I wasn’t…” Hunter clearly decided better than to argue, and he sighed as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“You don’t greet me like that,” Crosshair insisted, setting a toothpick between his smirking lips as he made his way over.

You giggled at their brotherly bickering. “Thank you for the warm welcome, Wrecker.” You gave him a quick hug of your own. “It means a lot that you’ve all accepted me.” Your stare found Hunter’s with ease, and your smile grew. “And accepted us.”

“We knew it was coming,” Echo assured you.

“Echo is right,” Tech agreed, even as he attended to the holotable. “Neither of you were very subtle with your blossoming relationship.” He paused, his brow furrowed in severity. “Though I am sure you are aware of the rules that—.”

“That’s a later problem, Tech.” Hunter clearly wanted to move past this topic, and his reddened face was evidence of that. “Get those plans up. We’re on the clock.”

Tech focused back on the holotable, and soon, your home village appeared in blue holographic light. The fighters’ camp was outlined in red, and a few dots were scattered throughout the village. You crossed your arms and studied it as Hunter started to explain their findings.

“These are the main targets we’ve identified inside the village.” He pointed at the circle in the middle of the village. “They’ll want to hit the Republic outpost the hardest. Our guess is they’ll strike around it to divert the outpost’s forces, then they’ll move in to claim the outpost.”

You raised your brow. “What do they want with the outpost?”

“To make a statement.” It was Echo who answered your question. “To them, it’ll prove that the Republic isn’t capable of protecting Eirus, and that it’s time for new leadership.”

You shook your head. “That outpost is barely fortified. They won’t be able to prevent this whatsoever.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Hunter’s tone was both confident and hopeful, and it lent you some necessary strength. “We’re going in three groups. Two groups are gonna reinforce the perimeter, and one group is gonna hold down the outpost.”

You nodded. “I like that plan.” You tightened your grasp on your arms. “What are the groups?”

Hunter let out a soft sigh. “I want Wrecker and Crosshair together, one down low and one up high.” He looked across the holotable at Echo. “Echo and Tech need to stick together in case there’s any data we need them to retrieve.”

You started to smile at him. “Well, Sergeant, I guess that leaves me and you.”

Crosshair snickered. “Surprise, surprise.”

Hunter ignored his brother and nodded at you. “We’ll take the outpost.”

You returned his nod. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You moved your hands to your hips and let out a steady exhale. “Have you spotted Lii Alvani or any of his associates?”

“Just the ones we memorized for the banquet,” Echo spoke up. “No sign of Alvani. I doubt he’d get his hands dirty, anyway.”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“As far as the ones who’ll be coming here tonight while we’re gone…” Hunter sighed and shrugged, “we’re not sure. We got nothing useful out of the attackers in the brig, considering they were rogues.”

“They won’t send anyone important.” You tapped your fingers against your hips and caught Hunter’s gaze. “They’ll all know what choice I’m making. They won’t want to waste any of their best fighters.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened before he looked away from you. Your heart ached at the pure worry etched within the knit of his brow as he went on. “Our biggest goals on this mission are to minimize the damage from the attack, keep the villagers safe, hold down the outpost, and…” he paused, his stare finding yours again, “protect you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s not as big of a priority as the other three.”

Hunter lifted his chin. “This is a protection job, and we’re going to follow through on that objective.”

“Not if it comes at the cost of the other three.”

Wrecker looked between the two of you with a grimace. “We can do ‘em all no problem!” He glanced pointedly at Hunter. “Just don’t fight again.”

You relaxed a bit to chuckle at him. “We’re not fighting, Wrecker.” You crossed your arms again and nodded in Hunter’s direction. “Your sergeant is just protective.”

“We are well aware,” Tech remarked.

You smirked as Hunter’s face began to flush once again. “Has he always been like this?”

Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech all answered in unison. “Yes.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, though he maintained his severity. “I have every right to be. Those fighters would gladly see you dead.”

You softened, offering him a more reassuring nod as your arms fell to your sides. “I’ll be fine.” You searched his gaze, pleading for him to understand you as he always did. “But the safety of my people comes first, always.”

Hunter circled his jaw as he held your stare, but after a few moments, he nodded. You smiled. Of course he would understand; there was no doubt he would do the same for his squad.

“Is there anything else before we get going?” You were already setting your hood and your mask on.

“That’s really it.” Hunter and the rest of the squad were following your lead in sliding their helmets on and slipping their hooded ponchos over them. “You know we like to keep our planning to a minimum.”

“I do.” As Hunter got closer to you, you pointed two fingers against your temple. “On the outside, at least.”

Hunter tilted his helmet, but he said nothing as he instead looked around the group. The squad was fully ready to go, each one properly concealed by their dark ponchos as they waited for his order. Hunter nodded at them. “Let’s head out.”

Hunter led the way, and you joined him at his side as the others brought up the rear. Once the group had entered the darkness of the secret passageway, a gloved hand brushed yours, and you smiled as you took it. Your fingers laced through his, and you let him hold on tight for comfort. His other hand was holding his torch, guiding you through the way ahead.

You only let go once you reached the other end and stepped out into the humid twilight. Even though Hunter was still leading, the path to your village was utterly familiar, and you didn’t have to look to him for guidance. The closer you got, however, the more your dread began to build, attempting to dwindle your hopes of keeping your home safe.

When you looked around you, those hopes returned, because you weren’t alone. Clone Force 99 was more than capable of seeing this mission through with ease. You smiled to yourself and nodded.

Hunter held up his fist to stop the group as you made it to the perimeter of your home village. Just seeing it filled you with a mixture of emotions too powerful to process all at once, especially with the knowledge of what was about to happen there—all on your accord. This time, you made the move for Hunter’s hand, and he accepted it without missing a beat.

“It’s time to split up,” Hunter announced to his squad. You caught Echo’s and Crosshair’s visors drifting down to your entwined hands before they shared a look. “Echo and Tech, start at the opposite side of the village. Wrecker and Crosshair, hold your position here for now. We’re gonna need Crosshair on the lookout for us so we can get to the outpost undetected.”

Crosshair offered a two-fingered salute before he began to climb. Wrecker stood his ground below his brother’s position and nodded. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Hunter tilted his helmet at him. “No promises.” You smiled at Hunter reciprocating Wrecker’s playful energy. It was like watching his familiar self re-emerge, if only for a moment.

You and Hunter turned to face Echo and Tech, who waited for Hunter’s nod to set off. Echo gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he did so. Your chest warmed at his silent support.

“Ready?” Hunter’s voice was gentle as he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You summoned all the strength and resolve you had built up over the years and nodded. “Ready.”

Hunter returned your nod. “I’ll be right here.”

You beamed at him. “I know.”

Hunter tilted his helmet before he released your hand to hold his blaster. You did the same, following his lead as he charged towards the village and stuck to the shadows. Once you reached the first structure, Hunter lifted his fist and spoke into the comms. “I’m detecting a path, Crosshair, but I need you to pick up on anything I don’t. There’s a lot of activity here for me to sort through.”

“Understood.”

Hunter lowered his hand to the ground and splayed out his fingers, waiting a beat before he drew up some of the dirt between his fingers. He motioned to the way ahead, and you nodded before following him. You acted as his shadow, staying no more than a foot or two apart as you snuck through the infrastructure.

It was much denser than the smaller village you had protected before, but you knew this place a lot better. Hunter’s ability to sense hidden threats was the only reason why you weren’t leading the way.

But he still didn’t know everything.

“Here.” Your voice was a curt whisper as you reached forward to grasp Hunter’s arm and pull him to the right. The two of you were enclosed in a narrow alleyway, one that twisted at the end into a path you remembered well. Hunter’s helmet started to tilt at you, but you set a firm hand on his covered chestplate. “Before you get any ideas, this is just a shortcut to get us through the busiest part of the village undetected.”

Hunter lifted his gloved hands in surrender. You chuckled and tapped his helmeted cheek before leading him ahead. Your pace slowed as you approached the bend, your back getting closer to the nearby wall as you looked to Hunter for guidance.

He nodded. “It’s clear.”

You returned his nod and stepped out into the bend, holding up your blaster as you did so. The two of you were nearly at the next bend when you heard Crosshair’s voice in your earpiece. “Stop.”

You froze where you were, and Hunter did the same alongside you. He lifted his fingers to the side of his helmet. “What is it?”

“Hostiles ahead, guarding the end of the bend.”

You cursed as Hunter looked over his shoulder. “Can we backtrack?”

“Negative. They’ve started guarding the way you came in.”

Hunter’s visor found your gaze, and his tensed shoulders told you everything his eyes would have. “Do you think they saw us?”

You pressed your lips together in thought. “It’s possible.” You shook your head. “But if they did, we would probably already be cornered.”

“They don’t know you’re there.” You hadn’t realized Hunter was keeping his comm engaged. “They’re facing outward, not inward. You’ll have to find another way out.”

Hunter looked up, and he nodded to himself before he said one last thing into the comms. “We’ll go up.” He lowered his hand and grabbed the grappling attachment from his belt. Once he had fixed it into place, he opened his left arm to you. “Hold on tight.”

You smiled and followed his gentle order, regardless of the fact you had a grappling attachment of your own on your belt. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he shot the line up and got you to the top. Sure, you had to stay focused on this mission, but having this self-indulgent moment of closeness to him was nicer than you could say.

Hunter was just as hesitant to put space between you once you got to the top of the building. You gave him a once-over and watched the stall in his chest before he focused on removing the attachment from his blaster. You shifted your own focus to your surroundings.

“I’m not seeing anyone up here.” You stayed low as you scanned the nearby rooftops. The outpost stood apart at the heart of the village. Thankfully, this wouldn’t be your first time infiltrating it, and having a higher angle on it would make it even easier—if you could maintain your position.

Hunter’s own visor looked around the area. “Same here.” He lifted one hand to your back to keep you low and close, and the other found the side of his helmet. “Crosshair, do they have anyone up top?”

“Negative. Their focus is on the ground assault, for now.”

Hunter nodded. “Good. We’ll keep the high ground.” He was about to drop both his hands, much to your dismay, until a new voice crackled through the comms.

“Hunter, I have tapped into their comms.” You and Hunter exchanged a look as Tech spoke, and even through his helmet, you could picture what expression he wore underneath. “They have a team en route to the planetary capitol. It will not be long before they discover that the senator is absent.”

“And that she’s here.” Hunter exhaled a breath that he tried, and failed, to keep steady. You took a hand and set it on his armored thigh, which was crouched down next to yours. “We’ll want to be at the outpost by the time that happens.”

“That is precisely what I was about to propose.”

Hunter kept his visor fixed on you as he began to give his orders. “We need to draw the forces out of the outpost. Echo, Tech, Wrecker, it’s time to have some fun. Crosshair, hold off until Wrecker needs reinforcements. We need your eyes.”

Wrecker was clearly happy to get the fight started. “Hah! Bold of you to think I’ll need reinforcements, Sarge!” You smiled to yourself and shook your head.

Hunter continued like the protective yet confident older-brother-turned-sergeant he was. “If you need to fall back, head to the outpost. We’ll reinforce it together.”

“We read you loud and clear,” Echo assured him. “Be careful in there.” His tone was laced with newfound amusement. “And stay focused.”

You hid your face against Hunter’s covered shoulder for a moment as you chuckled with him, and despite the fact you were alone, your ears began to burn in sweet embarrassment. Crosshair, as usual, didn’t miss a beat. “That mission’s already failing.”

“Speak for yourself.” Hunter was just as quick with his retort. You had to fight back another laugh. “Your eyes are supposed to be on our surroundings, not us.”

“And you’re clear for now. You wouldn’t want me getting bored up here, Hunter. That’s when I start firing shots.”

“Not this time.” Hunter’s tone, which had been amused before, reverted back to severity. You lifted your head up and reveled in the feeling of his hand brushing down your back before it fell away. “That’s an order, Crosshair.”

A sigh crackled through the comms. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter’s other hand lowered from his helmet as he focused on you again. He gestured with his head to the rooftops that stood between the two of you and the outpost in the distance. “Ready?”

You nodded, and that was all it took for Hunter to lead the way. The buildings in the village were all close together, which meant that leaping from rooftop-to-rooftop was no more than hopping over a small hurdle. Still, after each jump, Hunter glanced back to make sure you were okay. It filled your chest with that familiar, comforting warmth he always brought you, long before he had truly caught your affection.

Hunter raised his fist to stop you when you got to the last rooftop. He lowered himself even more in his crouch, and you did the same. When you made it to his side, you followed the invisible trail of his visor, observing the ragtag guards who were pouring in their measly numbers out of the outpost.

“Just like I told you.” Your voice was a whisper as you shook your head. “Barely fortified.”

Hunter shuffled even closer to your side. “Who’s responsible for them?”

You snorted. “The Prime Minister, technically. He’s supposed to be the liaison between them and the Republic.” Your free hand tightened into a fist. “I stopped receiving their requests for further aid and gear a month ago. That’s when I knew things were getting worse, and fast.”

Hunter’s fingers spread gently over your closed fist, relaxing it underneath his touch. “Well, we’re here, now. We’ll make things right.” His visor turned to you as he nodded. “This ends tonight.”

You blinked slowly up at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that.”

Despite the sweetness of his reassurances, your stomach turned. The chrono was ticking relentlessly in the back of your mind, especially with Tech’s warning about the departed hunting party. You would be found out soon, and when you were… well, that was the part of the plan no one else was privy to.

Not even Hunter.

But for now, your only objective was to protect your people from this Separatist-fueled attack. You could focus on the other part of the plan when the time was right.

“They’ve cleared out.” Hunter was reaching for his grappling attachment again as the shadows of the setting sun made it even harder to see. His heightened senses obviated the need for sight. “The boys really got to work fast.”

“Either them or Alvani’s forces.” You holstered your blaster and lifted your brow. “Let me guess. ‘Hold on tight?’”

Hunter huffed and held his arm open. You clung to him even tighter than before, selfishly needing the proximity. Hunter aimed his blaster up at the elevated rooftop of the outpost and took the shot, getting the two of you to the top with ease. Before he took you over the edge, he managed to press a finger against his helmet. “Is it clear up here, Crosshair?”

You waited a beat. “Affirmative.”

Hunter wasted no time helping you up before he followed. You pulled your blaster as soon as your feet had touched the stone, lowering into a steady crouch as you scanned the area. Hunter did the same once he had joined you again, but he brought himself to stand slightly in front of you. One hand held his blaster as the other acted as reinforcement with his blade drawn.

“Okay, Sergeant.” There was a lilt of teasing to your tone. “What next?”

Hunter was all business. “This is the best place for us to be positioned. We can reinforce whoever’s left without them knowing.” He spared a glance back at you, and even in the darkness of the night and the shadow of his hood, there was a glint of light that caught his visor. “But let’s do a sweep around the perimeter up here, just to make sure we’re alone.”

You nodded and followed his lead. Hunter guided the two of you around the square rooftop, which was solely made up of narrow stone pathways. The center of the outpost’s square shape plunged downward, and at a certain point, it was separated from the rest of the galaxy by a large piece of transparisteel. The outpost had clearly been constructed with the intent of looking beautiful rather than being functional.

Considering Eirus was once a planet that swore peace above all else, that wasn’t a surprise. You scoffed under your breath at the mere thought. How far all of you had fallen, thanks to Lii Alvani.

Once you and Hunter had completed your sweep, he stopped you with his hand raised before he activated his comm. “We’re all set here, Crosshair. Get down and reinforce Wrecker.”

“Finally.” It was perhaps the most excited you had heard Crosshair this entire mission.

You chuckled and began to relax as you raised your brow at Hunter. “He’s about to be in his element.”

Hunter tilted his helmet. “They all are.”

You grinned and hoped that Hunter could sense it somehow behind your mask. “And you?”

His posture relaxed. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” There was the amusement you had been looking for earlier. “You know the answer.”

You pretended to check something on your blaster. “Then you should say it.”

Hunter hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” He sheathed his knife and pointed two fingers in your direction. “That ‘contusion’ on your neck speaks for me.”

Your face began to warm underneath your mask as you shook your head. The smile you wore faded as the reality of your surroundings contrasted with your sweet teasing. Knowing what you were hiding from him started to weigh your shoulders down.

Hunter must have grown just as anxious. “Tech,” he said with a hand lifted to the side of his helmet. “Anything new on the comms?”

“I…” there was blaster fire in the background, “... am a bit preoccupied at the moment. If Echo would be so kind as to provide me with cover…”

Echo was quick to chime in. “I’m working on it!”

You snickered as Hunter shook his helmet. After a few more heartbeats of silence, Tech returned. “Tuning in now.” You only had time for one unsteady breath before he spoke again. “It seems they are making haste. They have reported that they are only a few standard minutes within the capitol.”

Hunter cursed. “They must’ve used bikes.” He nodded to himself. “Keep me updated, Tech.”

“Affirmative.”

You closed your eyes and hung your head. The weight of what you knew was too much. To act like everything was okay around Hunter, especially with the vulnerability the two of you had shared not even a full day’s time ago, was something you could no longer do. With a light sigh, you dared to speak. “Hunter…”

“No.” You looked up to meet Hunter’s visor. He had repositioned himself in a flash, his entire front facing yours as he crouched down on one knee. “Don’t even think about it.”

Your jaw tightened. “Fighting isn’t going to end this. There’s a reason why they want me here.”

Hunter’s free hand held tight to his knee. “Don’t…”

“They don’t realize it yet, but they’re giving me a chance. When the time comes, I have to take it.”

“A chance to what? Let them have a clear shot at you?”

“No.” You remained gentle as you reached forward to set your hand over his. Your stare never strayed from his visor. “It’s a chance to reach my people. No diplomats, no half-truths, nothing like that standing between us. Just my voice and their ears.”

Hunter’s fingers danced underneath your grasp in an uncertain rhythm. “But we can fight. That’s why you brought us here.”

“Because I thought fighting was the solution. That’s what I’ve always known.” You shook your head, pleading for him to understand—just like he always did. “But it won’t work. They’ll only use it against me.”

Hunter’s visor lowered. You lifted your hand to the side of his helmet.

“You know it’s true.” You leaned close enough to rest your forehead against his helmet. “You’ll have to let me go. Okay?” You nodded at him. “I’ll be fine.”

The breath Hunter exhaled was shaky at best. “And if you’re not?”

You smiled at him, despite the fact he couldn’t see it with your mask. “I don’t have to worry about that.” You gestured with your eyes to the comlink on your belt. “Because I’ve got Clone Force 99 reinforcing me.”

Hunter’s deflated shoulders rose. He looked as if he was about to speak, but he stopped himself, his helmet turning away from you as his hand wrapped around your wrist and lowered it. He spoke before you could even question him. “They’re coming.”

You steadied yourself with a breath and nodded, raising your blaster. “How many?”

Hunter gave his helmet a tilt. “Hard to tell.”

Your heart plunged into your stomach. The goal wasn’t to win the fight, but you had to hold them off long enough to keep the outpost secure. It was vital that Hunter and the squad had this outpost when you turned yourself over to them.

Your plan formed quickly. “Let’s split up.” Hunter was about to protest when you held up your hand to stop him. “You take one side of the perimeter and I’ll take the other. We won’t be far from each other.” You gestured with your head to the nearest stone railing. “We just have to cover as many angles of their approach as possible.”

Hunter sighed before he nodded. His gloved hand took yours and gave it a gentle squeeze before he ran off. You watched him for a moment, amazed by his willingness to comply with your orders, before you walked up to the railing. Pressing your back against it, you reached for your scope attachment and locked it in place. Only then did you turn and position your blaster at the ground below.

All you could see were shadows, but after a minute or so of watching, those shadows began to move. You clocked at least a dozen of them on your side alone. You uttered a curse, but hesitated on the trigger. Your hands found your comlink and activated it. “Hunter, I’ve got some company over here.”

“Yeah, me too.” Hunter paused, and you held your breath until he responded. “Hold your fire until they engage.”

“Copy that.” You maintained your position, your blaster set to stun and your finger flexing over the trigger as you waited.

Suddenly, they all stopped, holding their positions and waiting just like you were. You furrowed your brow as an eerie chill scuttled down your spine.

You reached for the comm again. “Hunter…”

“Same thing over here.” Hunter projected his usual reassurance and confidence, but there was an alarmed undertone to his words. “Tech, anything new to report?”

“They have not yet reached the capitol.” Tech’s tone was just as matter-of-fact as usual. “Though they have been given an order not to move in on the outpost until they can confirm the senator’s whereabouts.”

You aired your stunned thoughts into the comm channel. “They know I’ll be here.”

Of course they knew. Many of these fighters were the same ones who had fought with you for years, who had made battle plans with you, and who had followed your orders. They knew you would want to be at the heart of the action.

It was all a trap, and you had allowed Hunter and his squad to run directly into it.

“New plan.” The urgency in Hunter’s voice proved he had reached the same conclusion as you. “All of you need to fall back to the outpost, now. There’s plenty of action waiting for you here.”

“Oh, yeah!” Wrecker continued to bring light to an otherwise dark situation. “We’re on our way!”

Echo matched Hunter’s own severity. “We copy, Hunter.”

It was a race against the chrono. If the rest of the squad wasn’t at the outpost before the team at the capitol discovered you were missing, then they would have to fight their way in. You fought hard to keep your focus on the unmoving shadows below, but the guilt of your oversight was making it extremely difficult.

If something happened to Hunter and his squad, it really would be your fault.

“Hey.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Hunter’s modulated voice just behind you. After blinking a few times, you spun around to face him, your brow furrowed as you gave him an incredulous once-over. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be—.”

“They’re not going anywhere.” Hunter set a hand on your shoulder. “You need me more right now.”

Your gaze and your head both fell at his words. You tried to think of something to say, to deny that the overwhelming dark cloud of guilt and dread was looming over you, but nothing would form on your tongue. Hunter’s hand rose to your chin, and just like he often did, he tilted your head back up to face him.

“This isn’t your fault. We made this plan.” Hunter nodded, holstering his blaster in favor of holding your face between his gloved hands. “We’ve known the risks this entire time. And honestly, the higher the stakes, the better for us.” He gave his helmet a quick tilt. “This isn’t the first time one of our plans hasn't worked out. But we still have a one-hundred percent success rate, and that won’t end here.”

There were no proper words to describe how meaningful his reassurance was. You held his wrist with your free hand. “Thank you.” You gave it a gentle squeeze. “I still have to give myself up, though.”

Hunter tensed. When he spoke, it was with a heavy exhale. “I know.”

“They want me to fight, and I can’t give in to them.” You huffed a self-deprecating breath. “I’ve played right into their hands enough times already.”

“Only because they were taking advantage of the fierce loyalty you have to your people.” Hunter’s visor lowered for a moment. “Now, you get to do things on your own terms.” His helmet’s stare found yours again. “You protect your people, and we’ll protect you. Just like we signed up for.”

You searched his visor for a moment before you nodded. “You’re right.”

You smiled as you steadied yourself with a breath, but you quickly became more serious again. The what-if of everything going wrong, despite the faith you had in Hunter and his squad to protect you, was getting too real. There was more you had to say.

The comm went off before you could even part your lips. “Hunter!” Tech sounded both out of breath and alert. “They have… arrived at… the capitol. The order is… being given… now!”

Hunter pulled away and reached for his blaster as you leaned over to look at the forces below. Sure enough, they were all starting to advance once again, causing you to curse under your breath.

“All of you, go up high. The senator and I have the roof secure. We’ll hold them off on our own until you get here.”

“And then?” Crosshair wasn’t even struggling for breath.

Hunter didn’t answer right away. His visor caught your gaze before he nodded and set his hand over your back. “Stay focused on the present.”

You returned Hunter’s nod, and only then did he return to his position. You set yourself back up along the stone wall and took a deep breath. It was so easy to prepare yourself for this fight, but knowing what would come next made your chest tighten. When fighting was all you knew, could you really change the tide with just your words?

You at least had to try. You owed your people that much.

As soon as you saw the first flash of blaster fire below, you pulled your own trigger. Blue circles of bright light streamed from your blaster, illuminating the darkened night as many of them found their targets. Some of the fighters began to look up, causing you to duck behind the protection of the wall as live rounds fired in your direction.

You found your rhythm quickly. One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats, then rise. Steady the blaster, align yourself to the scope, then open fire. Keep going until you were spotted again. Crouch down, move along the wall, and repeat. One, two, three. Rise. Steady. Fire. Duck. Repeat.

It was all you could focus on until the sound of footsteps landing on the stone surface drew your attention over your shoulder. Every muscle in your body was tense and ready to fight, but when you identified Crosshair first and Echo second, you relaxed. The relief that washed over you was nearly enough to make you physically fall backwards.

“Senator,” greeted Echo with a nod. “The other two should be—.”

“Right behind you, as always.” Tech didn’t miss a beat even as he surveyed the rooftop around you. “Seeing as your speed is never quite ideal.”

“Yeah,” Echo huffed, “because it’s too fast for you.”

“That is not what I was—.”

“Who cares?” Wrecker was the last to join the fray, and he gave Tech a shove from behind. Tech tripped a few steps and shot him a look. “We’ve got some fightin’ to do!”

You sighed and lowered your mask as you looked upon the four of them. “Not exactly. All I need you to do is help Hunter reinforce from up here.”

Crosshair was the first to sense your unspoken words. “And what will you be doing?”

You answered him just as Hunter rounded the corner. “Turning myself in.”

Echo stepped forward. “You what?”

“That strategy is not sound,” Tech insisted. “The likeliest outcomes will be either your capture for ransom or… swift death.” It was the first time you had ever heard Tech hesitate before speaking.

“You don’t have to do that!” Wrecker punched his fist into his hand. “We can take ‘em!”

You at least smiled at that. “I know.” The ticking chrono in the back of your mind made you go on faster. “But I’ve done enough fighting. I may have failed in diplomacy with Eirus’ representatives, but… I haven’t even given my people that same chance.” You nodded at the group of men standing before you. “I have to have faith in them and try.”

Silence sat amongst the squad for more heartbeats than you expected. Echo was the first to move, his visor looking beyond you. “And you’re okay with this, Hunter?”

You turned your head to look at the sergeant, who sighed before lowering his hood and removing his helmet. “I am.” His brown eyes were focused on his squad as he spoke to them. “It’s the senator’s choice to make, just like I said before. We’re standing behind her no matter what she chooses.” Hunter’s stare found yours, telling you everything he couldn’t. “Tell us what you need us to do, and we’ll do it.”

You beamed at him, despite the fierce desperation clawing at your chest. What you wanted to do was to stay here with him and the squad, if only to keep all of you at ease—but that wasn’t what you needed to do. “Set yourselves up around the perimeter of the courtyard at the front of the outpost. That’s where I’ll surrender.” You glanced at the rest of the squad and nodded. “I’ll give you a signal if I need you to engage.”

“And if you don’t signal us in time?” Crosshair pressed.

You lifted the corner of your mouth. “I trust your instincts.” You bowed your head at all of them. “Thank you, and best of luck.”

Echo walked up to set a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll need it more than us.” He gave your shoulder a soft squeeze. “But we’ll see you on the other side of this.”

You nodded, smiling in appreciation of his optimism. With a heavy breath, you turned around to face Hunter. His stare had never once left you, and though you could see devastation and dismay clearly in his dark eyes, he continued to project strength and determination. You closed the distance between the two of you, stopping just in front of him and searching his gaze.

Hunter nodded as dutifully as ever, but when he spoke, his voice was low. “Be careful.”

You returned his severity. “You too.”

You didn’t give yourself enough time to mind your audience as you reached for his face and brought his mouth to yours. You kissed him hard, knowing it would soften the harsh edges of his fierce worry for you. He kept you close, his free hand wrapped around you in a way that made you wish he would never let go.

But the truth was that you didn’t have enough time as it was. You pulled away and let your stare linger on his own before you forced yourself away from him. Your eyes squeezed shut and your fists tightened as you fought the urge to run back to him.

This was what you had signed up for when you accepted your appointment as senator. The right choice always seemed to be the hardest one, and there was no guarantee it would even pay off. But you had to try.

You descended the staircases to the lowest level of the outpost, lowering your hood and making sure all your weapons were put away. Once you arrived, you heard the sounds of the blaster fire still ringing out.

One inhale, one exhale, and one chance.

“Stop!” You raised your voice as loud as you could to be heard over the chaos.

Instantly, the forces within the outpost stopped firing, their heads whipping around to face you with pure shock. Thankfully, the collective halt of their attack stopped the others as well. You stepped forward and nodded in reassurance at those you passed.

“Stand down.” You waved a hand to gesture to their weapons. Each soldier stared at each other before obeying. You focused back on the way ahead as you stepped out of the building and raised your hands in surrender. “There’s no need for fighting.” You looked around the fighters, who kept their blasters raised at you. “I’m here now. Let’s talk this through.”

“At last.” The voice was so chilling it turned your blood to ice in your veins. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you watched a new shadow emerge from the darkness. “We’ve been waiting for you, Senator.”

The light of the outpost shined on the figure, but you didn’t need the visual to confirm that you were staring into the eyes of Lii Alvani once again.

chapter 7 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 9

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 

senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020  @callsign-denmark @dindadjarin

[lu-vin-it]

Parties, Zombies, And Hayrides

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Summary: You miss your first halloween party post apocalypse, but Daryl makes it up.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Pronouns Used: None mentioned

Word Count: 1,059

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you to @stqrluvr for proofreading

“I’m sorry.. by the way.” You look at Daryl in shock.

“For what?”

“For you having to come with me.” You look at the ground.

“I don’t mind going on runs with you, D.”

“You were looking forward to the party. I know you were. Wouldn’t shut up about the costume you put together.” You shrug.

“Maybe next year. It’s no big deal.” You were lying to yourself. It was a big deal. Halloween had always been your favorite holiday, for obvious reasons, you weren’t able to do anything for it for years. But this year there was going to be a party, and you were dying to go, to get that sense of normalcy back. But of course, something came up and you had to go on a run. Typical.

“Maybe next year?” Daryl scoffs. “You and I both know next year ain’t a promise.” You sigh.

“What do you want me to say, D? That yes, I am disappointed? That I’m upset at Deanna for making me go tonight?” You look at him.

“Yeah. Kinda.” You roll your eyes.

“Do you see any walkers?” He shakes his head.

“Me either. Cover me while I go in.” You go inside the warehouse without waiting for a response.

“Y/N!” Daryl whisper-shouts. You ignore him and keep walking, placing your gun in its holster to grab your backpack. Daryl walks in behind you, gun still drawn.

You start piling supplies into your bag, completely oblivious to the walker coming up behind Daryl. A faint growl pulls you up, you turn to look at Daryl and see the walker barely two steps behind him. You draw your knife and quickly push the man aside to stab the walker.

“Thanks.” You pull the knife out of the walker's skull.

“Of course, D.” You look into Daryl’s eyes. The same eyes you’d been looking in for reassurance since the beginning of the apocalypse, the same eyes you fell in love with. “At least I got to see a zombie, am I right?” Daryl rolls his eyes.

“You know, I still don’t really get the whole Halloween thing.” You smile.

“That’s ‘cause you’ve never had a Halloween with me. Man.. if I could, I’d take you to a pumpkin patch… make you ride a hayride.”

“A hayride?”

“Yeah! They hook a trailer up to a tractor, fill the trailer with hay and hay bales, and then you get on and they take you on a drive. It’s fun. You get hay stuck everywhere— and I do mean everywhere— but it’s fun.”

“Was that your favorite part of Halloween?” You purse your lips in thought.

“No. I think carving pumpkins was my favorite part. My friends and I used to do little carving competitions. I’d win every time, of course.” Daryl gives you a ‘really?’ look.

“You can’t even draw a map, you tellin’ me you can carve a face in a pumpkin?” You squint your eyes at him.

“Okay fine, I won once. Buzzkill.” You shake your head. “What’d you do?” He shrugs.

“Watched a movie maybe. Go to the bar. Nothing special.” You nod.

“As expected.” You sigh and lean back down to gather more stuff. “I hope everyone is having fun back home.”

By the time you get back to Alexandria, everyone— other than those on patrol— was already asleep. You sadly walked back to your house with Daryl.

A week later you were sitting on your couch reading your favorite book when Daryl came in.

“D! Mud on your boots! What have I told you?” You jokingly chastise as you jump up to kiss him. “How was patrol?”

“Huh? Oh. I didn’t go. Had Glenn cover.” You cock your head to the side.

“Where’ve you been since five a.m. then?”

“Get your shoes on and I’ll show ya.” You squint your eyes at him.

“What’d you do?” He shrugs.

After being led to the opposite end of Alexandria, Daryl finally brings you to one of the empty houses.

“Go inside.” He says. You slowly do, revealing a fully Halloween decorated house.

“D? What.. What is this?” You ask with a smile.

“You’re throwing another party. ‘Sposed to start in an hour.. so you should get ready.” You gape at him.

“Daryl.. you did this?” He shrugs and looks at the ground. “I can’t believe you did all this. Gosh I love you.” You grab his face and kiss him hard. “You’re the best, you know that?” He blushes.

“Hush.”

“It’s true. C’mon I can finally show you the matching costumes I got us!” He furrows his brows.

“Matching what now?”

Daryl politely declined— “I ain’t wearing that shit.”— to wear the costume you put together for him, but you didn’t care a bit. Everyone was complimenting the two of you on the party, and you were just glad that you got to make everyone happy.

At around midnight, Daryl pulled you outside.

“Got one more thing to show you.” You stare at your boyfriend in disbelief.

“There’s more?” He nods.

“C’mon.” He grabs your hand and drags you down the road.

You walk on the road for about five minutes and then veer off to a small farming area. You walk past the crops and stop when you’re besides the greenhouse.

“Close your eyes.” You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Okay!” Daryl places the hand that wasn’t holding your own and gently guides you forward a few steps. He then turned you and guided you a couple more steps.

“Alright.. you can look now.” You move your hand slowly to see what looks like a barrel full of leaves hooked up to Daryl’s motorcycle. “Didn’t have hay so I used what I could.” Your face breaks out into a grin with the realization that this was a hay ride. He made you a hay ride.

“Daryl.. I don’t know what to say to you. You.. You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” He blushes and scratches the back of his neck.

“You gettin’ in or what?”

“I think I need a kiss first.” You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now get in.” You do, as quickly as you can.

“Is this safe?” Daryl shrugs, getting onto his motorcycle.

“Guess we’ll find out, I’ll go slow.”

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Sweet Little Killer

Ghoulcy | Cooper x Lucy | post S1 | touchstarved | hurt\comfort | angst | sometimes he's an asshole | there was only one bed | overprotective and jealous Ghoul | eventual smut

Those big eyes, Cooper thought, his anger rising. Those big eyes of hers were glistening with tears, and twice as pretty for it. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on men with those soulful eyes of hers. If she did, she was damn well making those tears brim on her dark lashes on purpose, trying to wrap his withered heart around her pretty little finger.

As Ghoul and Lucy journey across the wastes to New Vegas both of them learn a helluva lot more about each other, and circumstances and mutual attraction drive them into each other's arms.

Start with Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO

‘Just how big is a radscorpion?’ Lucy asked Cooper in a quavering voice.

They were marching across the sand, east into the rosy dawn. Dogmeat, full of energy and happy to be on the move, was running laps of them, her ears pricked forward and tongue lolling out. To Lucy’s disgust, Cooper had fed the dog a breakfast of ass jerky.   

‘Oh, all sizes,’ Cooper replied, sweeping the horizon for any sign of movement. He wanted today to pass without any Vault-Tec, Knights, Enclave, or other miscellaneous bastards getting in his way.

‘Will I see one before it sees me?’

‘I guess you’ll find out, sweetheart,’ he replied with a grin.

Lucy scowled at him. ‘You’re not making any of this easier.’

‘Was that my job? Sorry, I must have missed that in my contract when you paid me for my very expensive services.’

Lucy glowered at his broad back and kept walking. Was the man never not sarcastic?

She saw what looked like scuttle marks in the sand, the kind an eight-legged creature might leave. A creature that was as long as her arm.

Lucy swallowed hard. Oh, good golly.

They passed by a ruin that had collapsed sometime in recent months, and debris was scattered on the sand. Lucy lifted up a pipe about three feet long and the thickness of two thumbs. It felt good in her grip. Not too heavy that she couldn’t swing it, but it could do some damage.

The ghoul gazed at the pipe in her hand and then gave her a nod so slight that she almost missed it. Her heart lifted. He approved of something she’d done.  

‘First one’s yours, vaultie.’

Her heart sank.

They didn’t have to walk for long to find the radscorpion that was as long as her arm. In fact, Lucy suspected the ghoul had led them straight to it. 

He turned to her with a grin and folded his arms as the furious invertebrate scuttled toward them. ‘Have at it.’

Lucy licked her lips. ‘Any tips?’

‘Don’t get stung.’

‘Gee, you’re a real help.’

Ghoul stepped back to watch. A radscorpion could only stab with its stinger every few seconds. If the girl was smart, she’d dodge a strike and get in a few hits with the pipe. But he wasn’t convinced she was anything more than a book smart little do-gooder.

The radscorpion struck out three times before Lucy got over her fear enough to remember that she had a weapon. Wincing, she slammed it down onto the critter. It took a nasty hit, but struck out again. Lucy squealed and leapt back. Her surprise turned to determination, and she landed another hit. The radscorpion twitched, and then died.

‘Ha!’ Lucy exclaimed, breathing hard. 

Cooper smiled to himself. There she was, the little killer he’d seen for an instant as she’d ripped off his finger with her teeth. He liked that girl.

 ‘Here.’ He tugged a knife out of the holster on his belt and passed it to her, hilt first.

‘What’s this for?’ she asked, examining the enormous blade. It was the same length as her fingertips to her elbow. 

He dug in his saddle bag and pulled out a cloth, tossing it to her. ‘Get that stinger out of its tail. You can get twenty caps for a radscorpion stinger sac. Sometimes more.’

While he stood over her, Lucy cracked the tail open and cut out the sac and wrapped it in the cloth bag. She’d done this all by herself, and it felt oddly satisfying.  

When she looked up, the ghoul was chewing on some dried meat, and her smile vanished. He nodded at the radscorpion.

‘Don’t forget your breakfast, unless you’d like some ass jerky.’

Her stomach was rumbling. Anything was better than people. ‘Just think of it as cornmeal porridge,’ she muttered to herself as she cracked open a scorpion leg and ate the soft, clammy meat with her fingers. Thankfully it didn’t taste of much.

The day was a series of radscorpion kills. All hers. It seemed to Lucy like they were zigzagging back and forth across the desert, wasting time on these pointless kills. The lead pipe was heavy. The makeshift bag of stinger sacs on her shoulder was even heavier. She was exhausted, her arms were aching, and her vault suit was splattered with venom from strikes that she’d only just escaped. The ghoul hadn’t lifted a finger to help.

Lucy was in a low mood as they approached a settlement. It must be safe enough because the ghoul shouldered his way through groups of people into a marketplace.

He nodded at a stall. ‘Go sell your shit over there.’

The stinger sacs earned Lucy one hundred and eighteen caps. She stared at the quantity in surprise. The ghoul hadn’t been lying to her.

As she carried them back to him, she eyed him warily.  ‘I suppose you’ll want most of these.’

He was leaning against a wall with one foot propped up. Lazily, he drawled, ‘Me, sweetie? Why would I touch your caps?’

She blinked in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘I ain’t your keeper. Go buy what you need to cross the wastes without keeling over. And get rid of that fucking Vault-tec suit.’ 

With a ghost of a smile on his lips, he watched her moving through the tiny marketplace, picking through the clothes and other items. For a moment she disappeared behind a curtain, and when she emerged, his foot nearly slipped off the wall. She looked...better. Much better. 

Lucy was pleased with her finds. A pair of slim fitting pants with pockets down the side. A couple of tank tops and several pairs of underwear that might not be new, but at least they were clean. A backpack, a water canteen, several cans of cram and some of vegetables. Everything was scuffed, worn, or repaired, but it was hers, and she’d bought it herself with caps she’d earned.

The ghoul was taking in her new look with his head on one side. ‘Well, look at you. A proper surface-dweller now.’

There was a rare note of approval in his voice. Lucy felt her face flush and her heart beat a little faster, though she didn’t understand why.

‘C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink.’ He led the way into a saloon bar, and then turned to her and asked, ‘Would you like whiskey, or whiskey? Choices ain’t much around these parts.’

Her attention was snared by the sight of something behind him. A board of wanted posters with sketches of people and amounts for their capture.

‘Wait, is that you?’ Lucy seized his shoulders and turned him so that she could examine the board and his face at the same time.

Cooper felt a strange pressure in his chest as Lucy left her hands right there on his shoulders. His muscles were tingling beneath the weight of her hands. What was this weird sensation? He didn’t like it.

He didn’t move.

‘You’ve got the highest bounty on the board,’ she remarked as she finally stepped back and let go of him.

‘I should hope so,’ he said scornfully, moving toward the bar and ordering two whiskeys. They came in small glasses, and he nudged one toward her with his knuckle.

‘Drink. You’re a real bounty hunter now.’

‘Radscorpions count as bounties? I thought that was scavenging.’

‘Tomorrow we’ll call it scavenging. Today, you’re a bounty hunter.’ He clinked his glass against hers and knocked back his drink.

He hoped that his words would make her smile and he searched her face as he swallowed. It did. There was a glimmer of pleasure on her face as she took a tentative sip of her drink.

His stomach felt warm. It was probably the whiskey.  

‘What exactly are you wanted for?’ she asked.

There was interest in Lucy’s eyes as she gazed up at him. Cooper felt like he was standing in a bar in the beforetimes with an ice-cold martini in his hand and basking in the attention of a pretty woman.

Lucy took another sip of whiskey, and then licked an amber droplet of the alcohol that ran over her finger. The discoloured finger. The one he’d taken such pleasure in making her watch as he’d lovingly cut it from her hand.

Maybe he should feel guilty about that.  

He didn’t.

His little vaultie was starting to toughen up.

A smile slid over Cooper’s lips and he rubbed his jaw. ‘This and that.’

‘Colour me intrigued.’

He gave a modest shrug. ‘You can breathe in the wrong direction and you get on the bad side of the Enclave. They don’t like anyone who ain’t a government sycophant.’

‘But you did more than breathe in the wrong direction,’ she guessed.

No adoring movie fan and no martini ever felt and tasted as good as having Lucy’s undivided attention and interest. Truthfully, he had no idea why his face was up on that board, but it could be for any number of killings.

They were standing close together, both of them leaning on the bar. ‘What will you tell people when it’s your pretty face up on that board?’

‘Me? I’m not a wanted woman.’

She tucked her hair behind her ear, and he watched her do it. Just about every man in the place was watching her do it. Not a wanted woman? 

You sure about that, darlin’?

Cooper tapped the bar for another whiskey, and the bartender refilled his glass.

‘If you say so.’ Cooper knocked back his second drink, and then turned to face the room. Moving his duster aside to expose the gun at his hip, he glared from one staring man to the next until they all took the hint and turned their attention away from his vaultie.

Across the room, two working girls flashed him smiles and waves. Forced smiles. They knew bounty hunters usually had caps to spare and they were desperate enough to try and take them from a ghoul.

Lucy noticed the women paying him attention. ‘If you’re in the mood for some company, I can wait here.’

She really thought he wanted to leave her side for an awkward tumble? ‘No need.’

‘No need? Oh, do you mean you can’t? Sorry, I don’t know much about ghouls.’

Cooper’s head reared up. Outrage expanded in his chest. Lucy assumed that he couldn’t get it up? That as well as losing his life, his home, his daughter, and his looks, he’d lost that as well? ‘Hold up a second, sweetheart. Are you implying that I—’

‘Ghoul!’

Past Lucy’s shoulder a man was striding toward him with a big, stupid grin on his face. A man in his thirties with lanky blond hair and a bandolier of bullets across his chest.

Cooper’s hand clenched in a fist. For fuck’s sake. He stepped around Lucy, keeping her behind him. ‘Kody.’

Kody was another bounty hunter who liked to chew Cooper’s ear off every time they crossed paths.

‘Hey there. Who’s your friend?’ His eyes landed on Lucy. 

Lucy opened her mouth to give Kody her name, but Cooper spoke before she did. ‘She’s nobody. Let’s get a table, I’m tired of being on my feet.’

He felt twin pricks in the side of his neck as Lucy glared at him. He bought what was left of an open bottle of whiskey, about a third of its usual contents, and steered Lucy and Kody over to a quiet corner of the room. Kody wouldn’t leave him the hell alone until they’d had a drink together and he needed to keep an eye on Lucy in case someone tried to grab her.

‘What are you doing out this way?’ Cooper asked when the three of them were settled with Dogmeat under the table.

‘I’m headed over to Hasting’s place. He put word out there’s bounty work.’

‘Is that so.’

‘How about you?’

Cooper stared at the other man in silence, and then nodded at Lucy. ‘Mail order bride. Taking this one to some rich man who owns a ranch.’

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. Her expression said, I will kill you.

Kody turned to Lucy with what he probably thought was a charming smile. ‘Oh, honey, you don’t need to do that. Ghoul can leave you with me and I’ll take care of you so good.’

Cooper felt the back of his neck bristle. He was pouring another round of whiskey and put the bottle down with a thud that made all their glasses jump. ‘Don’t look at my bounty, Kody.’

‘Ghoul’s sensitive today,’ Kody said to Lucy with a grin.

‘Is that what you call him? Ghoul?’

‘The Ghoul. This man’s infamous around these parts.’

Cooper threw back his whiskey, reached down to his belt and yanked out his knife. Kody’s hand was flat on the table as he continued to talk to Lucy with that stupid smile on his face. Cooper slammed the knife point-down into the table, right through Kody’s hand.

Kody screamed and stared at his bleeding, impaled hand, his fingers flexing. Lucy gasped. The whole bar stared.

Finally, people were looking at something that wasn’t his vaultie.

‘What the hell, man? Have you lost your mind?’ Kody cried.

‘Maybe I have,’ Cooper said through bared teeth, and twisted the knife. Bones cracked in Kody’s hand and he screamed again. Kody wanted to pull his hand away, but that would mean ripping it apart.

Lucy was breathing fast and shallow, her eyes huge. ‘Mr. Ghoul, please don’t—’

‘Why are you lying to me, Kody?’ Cooper asked, not taking his eyes off the other bounty hunter.

‘Shit. Shit. How am I meant to work if you destroy my gun hand? I ain’t lying about anything, Ghoul. I swear.’

‘You’re not going to Hastings’ place, because Hastings ain’t home. He’s a wanted man. Are you fried on chems, or are you just that fucking stupid that you didn’t notice his face on that board behind us?’

Kody glanced behind them at the wanted board, and his anger deflated. The man started to look scared. ‘Ghoul, I didn’t try to take her from you. I wasn’t going to. Just let me go.’

Deadly, cold anger swept through Cooper. ‘Oh, that’s all right then. You can go.’

Kody glanced at the knife sticking through his hand, waiting for Cooper to pull it out.  

Cooper didn’t move. ‘I said, go on.’

‘Don’t make me rip my hand open. Please, man,’ Kody begged.

When Cooper still didn’t answer, Kody started to whimper. ‘I can’t—I didn’t—ah fuck.’ He looked desperately at Lucy, sweat on his brow. ‘I’ll split the caps with you when we reach New Vegas. You don’t need to put up with this asshole.’

Kody was still looking at his vaultie. Someone had put a bounty on her, and it must be a lot of caps if Kody was willing to double-cross him. Dogmeat was out from beneath the table and barking frantically. Cooper viciously twisted the knife again.

Kody screamed, and then drew a gun. Cooper knocked Kody’s arm upwards so the bullet fired through the tin roof and the gun went tumbling from his hand. He was distracted for a moment as Lucy flinched and fell off her chair, giving Kody the chance to punch him in the guts. With the wind knocked out of him, Cooper yanked the knife out of the table and drove it through Kody’s throat.

Kody crumpled to the ground with a gurgle. Cooper braced his hand against the table, wheezing as he dragged air back into his spasming lungs. He stared at the dead man in disgust. Fucking prick, going after Lucy right in front of him.  

Lucy was sprawled on the floor. Cooper bent down to help her to her feet, checking her over for injuries. Blood was trickling from her grazed elbow. His vaultie was tender. That would leave a bruise. With a gentle swipe of his thumb, he wiped away the blood.

‘That must hurt.’

‘I’m okay,’ she said softly. Breathlessly. So close. ‘Thank you. For um, not letting him take me.’

Cooper went still. Lucy was pressed against his chest with her hands on his shoulders. He was holding her. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman. A lifetime. He’d been another man then. If he’d met Lucy before the bombs fell, he would have made it his business to coax a smile to those pretty lips of hers. Just one smile that he could store away in his heart. Too bad everything was different now, and the only reason she was clinging to him was because she was terrified.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, genuine worry in her eyes.

Cooper frowned at her strange question. ‘Me?’

‘Yeah, he hit you.’ She gently placed her hand over his chest, feeling the ridges of his ribs and stomach muscles. Her fingers stroked him through his clothing, sending shivers through his body. What in the hell was happening to him?

How did he ask her never to stop without sounding like a crazy man?

Cooper forgot how to breathe for a moment, and then started again with a shudder.

Lucy heard it and lifted her eyes to his.

She smelled sweet and was soft in his arms. That curve of her waist that he’d been admiring all day as she’d beaten radscorpions was supple in his gloved hands. What was sweeter than the only woman on earth touching him like he was precious rather than the wreck he really was? The only woman that Ghoul had noticed on earth in two hundred years, anyway.

‘Oh, I’m fine, darlin’,’ he murmured, his gaze traveling along her jaw and down her throat.

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You don’t sound sarcastic. Are you sure you’re all right?’

His gaze dropped to the corpse on the floor and reality came flooding back. If bounty hunters were coming after them, there was no place they were safe. Daddy MacLean must have put word out that he wanted his daughter. Every gunslinger around would be trying to take Lucy from him.  

No, he wasn’t fucking all right. Cooper seized both her wrists and gripped them tightly, growling into her pretty face, ‘You listen to me, sweetheart. Don’t think about wandering off for even a second unless you want to be delivered straight to your daddy wrapped in a bow. From now on, you’re going to do everything I say, and I ain’t letting you out of my sight.’

_

Cooper. COOPER. Lucy thinks you can't get it up. What are you gonna do about that??

Read Chapter Three