#and the crossbow just keeps being fired at me

[kyofsonder]

Life, aiming a loaded crossbow at me: I'm sorry. You were involved in the decisions that led to this, but you can't know whether they're worth it until everything is done. This is the first step. Endure it as best you can.

Me, shot with the crossbow bolt: [looks down and sees a label tied to the bolt that reads "metaphor for stressful situation"] Ow. Thanks for the warning, I guess? At least it's the only thing I'm getting shot with for a good while.

Life, reloading several bolts into the crossbow at once: Have you ever heard of speed shooting?

Me: I want it to be known that I resent this.

Life: Noted. [shoots me multiple times in quick succession]

Me, on the floor and stuck full of crossbow bolts all over my body: Recovering from this is gonna suck.

[daryltwdixon]

Hello,

I would like to request something angsty with some fluff.

I'm going through the worst time right now, on the verge of tears all of the time and my anxiety is through the roof.

Just need some Daryl x Reader fluff and him making it all better, not even making it all better just being there. I'm not explaining myself very well, sorry. Maybe based around the time jump when Daryl was just living in a tent? The OC turns up at his tent just absolutely broken and collapses, maybe even mute for a little while? I will totally understand if you don't want to write some hella depressing shit but I love your writing and each one of your fics makes me forget about my world for a little bit. <3

Daryl x Reader fluff

thank you for the request and hope you're doing okay hunny x

The forest is quiet, save for the crackling of the small fire and the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze. Daryl sits outside his tent, crossbow leaned against the log he’s perched on, knife in hand as he works on carving something small and meaningless—just to keep his hands busy. Dog lies nearby, ears twitching as he listens to the woods.

The faint snap of a twig makes Daryl’s head jerk up, shoulders tense. His hand instinctively grips the knife tighter, and Dog lifts his head, letting out a low, warning growl.

“Quiet,” Daryl mutters, standing and scanning the tree line. It’s not uncommon for the dead to wander close, even this far out. But then, he hears it—a shuffle, too uneven to be a walker, too heavy to be an animal.

And then he sees you.

You’re a ghost of yourself, shoulders hunched, face pale, arms wrapped around your torso like you’re holding yourself together. Your steps are unsteady, like your legs might give out at any moment, but your eyes lock on his, and you stop a few feet from him.

“Y/N?” His voice is low, cautious, like you might vanish if he speaks too loud. His knife drops to his side, forgotten. “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even look like you can. Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. Instead, you take one more step and then another before your knees buckle.

Daryl lunges forward, catching you just before you hit the ground. His hands are rough, strong, but careful as he lowers you to sit in the dirt. “Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on? You hurt?” His eyes dart over you, searching for injuries, but you just shake your head, a quick, jerky motion.

Dog pads over, whining softly, and presses his nose against your arm. Slowly, he nudges your hand, and when you don’t push him away, he lays his head in your lap. Your fingers twitch like you want to pet him but can’t quite summon the energy.

“Shit,” Daryl mutters under his breath, kneeling beside you. “You’re... you’re okay, yeah? Not sick?” He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the curve of your collarbone. Your skin is cold through the thin fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitches, and for a second, he thinks you’re about to speak. But instead, you curl forward, pressing your forehead against his chest. It’s not a hug, exactly—it’s more like you’ve collapsed into him, like he’s the only solid thing keeping you upright.

Daryl freezes, stiff as a board, not sure what to do with his hands. But when he hears your breath hitch again, feels the faint tremor running through you, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “S’alright,” he murmurs, voice gruff but quiet. “You’re alright.”

For a long time, neither of you moves. The fire crackles, and Dog stays where he is, his warmth a comforting weight against your legs. Daryl doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t push you to speak. He just sits there, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back, until the shaking subsides.

“You don’t gotta say nothin’,” he says after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay. Don’t gotta go nowhere.” His chin brushes the top of your head, and you feel him shift, settling against the tree trunk behind him so you can lean against him more comfortably.

The forest is a little less cold as you settle into him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel completely untethered. You close your eyes, and his hand keeps tracing those soft, grounding circles on your back, steady as the heartbeat you can hear through his chest.

Daryl doesn’t let go. Even when the trembling in your body begins to settle, even when your breathing evens out, he stays right there, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll fall apart if he loosens his grip.

After a while, he shifts slightly, leaning over to grab the old, patched-up blanket from inside the tent. “Hold on,” he mutters, voice low but soft, like he’s trying not to spook you. He drapes the blanket over your shoulders and tugs you closer, cocooning both of you in the warmth.

The blanket smells like him—earthy, a little smoky, and something you can’t quite place but is inexplicably Daryl. He pulls the edges tight, tucking you in against his chest like he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

Dog moves to lie down beside you, pressing his back against your legs. His warmth, paired with the steady rise and fall of Daryl’s chest, makes the cold night feel a little less biting.

Daryl’s hand never stops moving—slow, careful circles on your back. Every so often, his thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, a touch so gentle it nearly brings tears to your eyes. He shifts again, leaning his head against yours, the rough scruff of his beard grazing your temple.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs, his voice raspier now, quieter, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you. “Ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. You hear me?”

You don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to need you to. His arms tighten around you, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him, too. His breathing slows, matching yours, and his fingers now threading lightly through your hair, untangling it in soft, absent motions.

“Dunno what happened,” he mutters, his words nearly lost in the stillness of the forest. “Don’t matter. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He leans his cheek against the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. The weight of his affection settles over you like the blanket, warming you from the inside out. You feel yourself relax further, melting into him like this is where you were always meant to be.

You don’t know how long you sit there, wrapped up in him and the blanket, with Dog snoring softly at your side. For the first time in what feels like forever, the ache in your chest isn’t so sharp, the cracks in your armor not so unbearable. Daryl doesn’t try to fix anything or ask you to explain yourself—he just stays, his presence steady and unwavering.

Maybe tomorrow will bring answers, but for now, there’s only this—the quiet and him.

[fan-goddess]

hello!could you write a reaction to the dragon's house × !fem!reader, when she was flying over the sea with the dragon and one of the enemies was on the ship and shot from a crossbow.

(she and her dragon are alive but slightly injured)

Aegon,Aemond,Jacaerys Velaryon-romantic love

Alicent,Daemon,Rhaenyra,Helaena,Laenor Valeryon-platonic love

sorry if there are any mistakes! I hope everything is clear💝I've actually been thinking about this for a long time💥

HOTD characters reactions of when reader is hurt

The summary: The characters each find out during your usual flight around kingslanding that you were shot down by some people belonging to a certain group that hate the Targaryen traditions and believe it to be an abomination.

A/N: They’re all personalised and hopefully different backstories, but have given reader the same dragon in all of them as making dragons are hard. The wound is also pretty much same, but the severity is altered in some places. In the platonic ones I made reader call them mother or father, since I made them a parent. Some of these are very different as I expanded on some more and developed others. You can tell which.

This ain’t fully proofread we die like Luke!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie

Warning: Wounds, various gore mentions, incest, kissing, tried to make it gender neutral and lack of descriptions but there are some scattered about! (if I miss any let me know)

Aegon Targaryen:

When Aegon heard the news from his mother who’d rushed to inform him of your sudden injury, he all but sprinted to the infirmary where you were being treated by one of the leading maesters.

“My love, are you alright?!? I am so sorry my love I should have insisted to accompany you! When I find the man who did this to you I shall rip off his head and feed his insides to Sunfyre and Shrykos!” He declares, the words tumbling quickly with how much rage flooded his body at the sight of your wounded self. You could barely keep up with him if you were being honest.

“Aegon, my sweet husband, it is fine! ‘Tis merely a flesh wound!” You insist, yet wincing as soon as the reassurance falls from your lips.

“And yet here you are heavily bleeding, and in very much pain! You should take some milk of the poppy!” Aegon says, looking around to find the bottle, even when you try and insist you were fine. “If you were fine you’d be with me, in our bed, safe and unharmed! So don’t argue with me wife or my wrath will be misguided!”

You merely humour him by sipping slightly at the small contents of the cup the maester had passed to you. Yet still, you can’t deny that the liquid had its desired effects, as your previously aching wound now significantly dulls down to a mere small throb once in a while.

“Now wife. Tell me who hurt you.” Aegon demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on your body as he insured you would be unable to get away from him.

“Just some idiotic men thinking themselves higher than us my love. They shot at me and Shrykos from their ship when we least expected it with bloody crossbones of all things, and somehow barely managed to skim us. Yet they somehow did not expect the very large dragon to get angry that their rider and themself was just attacked with no prior warning. Shrykos certainly made sure to enact on our lovely families motto. By the time she was done with them, there was nothing left but fire and blood sinking to the bottom of the sea.”

Aegons face slowly turns more and more relaxed, and by the end of your tale he’s practically grinning for joy as he kisses you deep on the lips. “That’s my bloodthirsty wife!” He mumbles against your lips, forgetting all about his past aggressions to make you feel as safe and as loved as you could be in his arms. The maester that continues to awkwardly stand their waiting to finish wrapping your arm be damned.

Aemond Targaryen:

He finds out before anyone else, as he tends to wait for you after your dragon rides if he’s unable to go with you that day. So when you come back later than usual with blood dripping down your arm and half an arrow sticking out of you, he certainly is very angry, and very much willing to get on Vhagar and hunt down and kill those who dared harm his wife. Yet he knows he must stay calm for you.

He notices how you try and mumble your dragons name under your breath, so when he makes it past one of the dragon keepers he makes sure to let them know that Shrykos may be in need of some healing. He assumes by the way your mumbles quieten after he says the order that that was what you were trying to tell him. Yet when he actually looks at you Aemond quickly realises you’ve actually fainted from blood loss.

Aemond rushes you to the Maesters room where he insists only the best work on you, even though he couldn’t afford to be picky what with you bleeding out in his arms and all. Though after a few threats and lot of claims regarding his dragon, the maesters quickly manage to remove the arrow and stem the bleeding whilst you continued to lay unconscious on the healing bed. Aemond stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand tightly in an act of reassurance. Even though you were still unconscious.

He stayed with you the entire time though. Still holding your hand even when he fell asleep. When you eventually woke, three days after you were injured, Aemond was sure to reassure you that you were safe. Even though by the tenth time you were very ready to smack him.

“Tell me ābrazȳrys who did this too you. Vhagar has been ready for the taste of flesh since I found you. I am sure Shrykos too is ready for the thrill of the chase of those who harmed both her and her rider. Tell me, so I can make sure we can tear them limb from limb.” His words drip malice, and yet there is distinct comfort within them. Aemond has never truly been able to show his affection towards you with displays of anything other than action. And in this moment, it just so happens that action involves heavy bloodshed and possible carnage.

“Those men who hale from the vale. The ones claiming our traditions to be an abomination. A sin in the eyes of the seven. They surprised me and Shrykos as we flew above the seas and got some good strikes. But don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon. Me and Shrykos made sure to burn them to blood and ash before we needed to flee back to kingslanding.” You attempt to smile to reassure your husband, but if anything it appears to make it worse as you wince at the pain suddenly flaring through your whole right arm.

Aemond stays quiet as he makes sure to force you to drink some milk of the poppy.

“Ābrazȳrys. If you were to die, I would have gone to the brink of insanity. I would’ve gone to those peoples homes and burned them all to the ground for what they have done to my wife. To the future mother of my children. They have harmed you though. The have scarred you. And for that offence alone, I cannot allow them a single more moments of breath. I cannot allow them to live.” Aemond storms off leaving you laying there in half shock and half admiration. You knew he would be true to his word. Which is why when not even a day had passed since Aemond had left, you’d heard whispers of what Aemond had done, and you smiled and thanked the gods for a husband like yours.

Jacaerys Velaryon:

If there was one characteristic you could say your husband embodied to the fullest, it would be loyalty. As no matter how many other women, maids and nobility alike, threw themselves at the future heirs feet he always ran back to you.

Even when other men such as the Lannister’s attempted to charm you with their admittedly horrible, yet according to them successful attempts, Jace was always there with a watchful eye, making sure all knew who you belonged too.

He was protective too. A dragon while not in appearance but definitely in spirit. Jace would always find a way to make sure you were safest whether you wanted him to be involved or not. Even this noon when you wanted to get one last dragon ride before dinner, Jace still insisted there was no need. Yet your stubbornness knew no bounds it seems, as while his back was turned you made quick speed to where Shrykos usually slept and flew her into the great distance. A mere speck in the sky before Jace knew what had happened.

You had started the flight laughing with the biggest grin on your face, eager to see the sights from the sky. Yet of course things turned worse as men from one of the many religious groups of the seven kingdoms took notice of you and your dragon, and decided to shoot you with their admittedly massive weapons.

You dodged the best you could, and yet with a scream from both you and Shrykos, you realised you were both hit.

“DRACARYS SHRYKOS! DRACARYS!” You screamed, satisfied when you hear the hells and the screams of the men and the ships bellow. With your good arm, you steer Shrykos to the direction of dragonstone and order the instructions, before all appears to go dark.

When you wake, all seems strangely normal. That is of course, before you see the giant bandaged wound that is your arm. You can see a hint of red peeking from the bandages and are about to see if you could rewrap it, before Jacaerys comes through and with wide eyes realises you are awake and well as you can be.

“My love!” He shouts, running over and encasing you in his arms. Not hearing the low hiss you make when his hands clasp around your still admittedly sore arm. “Where have you been!? You’re hurt!” He yells, finally taking noticing your blood that steadily pools to the surface. “Let us get you to the maesters!”

As much as it hurt you to have Jace pull you like he did, you merely let it all happen so not to cause an event bigger fuss of you than what he already is making. Yet when you get to the maesters chambers and nearly find yourself fainting, that’s when you suddenly understand your husbands worry.

When you wake up though, it’s the feeling of Jaces familiar warmth that settles you as you gaze on his sleeping form. Yet as you wake, so does he it seems. As not even a few minutes after you’ve woken Jace is quick to rise with you. His eyes wide and worried as they roam you for anymore possible injuries you may possibly somehow have hidden.

“Are you alright my love?!” He asks, his eyes still roaming for even a moment of weakness from you. “There maesters took care of your arm and the arrow. And I heard word from the dragon keepers who tell me Shrykos is healing dutifully from his wounds!”

“Good.” You simply say, hissing slightly as you sit up and try to keep yourself grounded. “I’d kill then if she wasn’t.”

Jacaerys laughs at your threat, and his face looks almost serene as he just looks at you. His eyes going soft as his hands continue to hold yours. It’d be an almost affectionate moment had it not been for the sudden flare up of pain in your arm.

“Fuck!” You yell, hissing once again as you’re reminded of why you’re even in the maesters room in the first place. “It is alright husband I’m fine!” You insist seeing the worry now marking his face.

“I will worry when I want.” He simply says, kissing you on the top of your head before moving to sit next to you on the bed. His head resting on yours as he puts his arms around you. Your eyes shutting as a sudden hit of exhaustion hits you, yet you welcome it fully as Jaces arms feel just so welcoming and calming.

Alicent Hightower:

Alicent had always been like a mother to you. Caring for you when you were sick and making sure that you were always in your highest possible health. It was probably why she’d insisted since you were young to fully call her mother, even though you were not biologically related to her.

Whenever she heard about even the slightest of injuries though, she always worried relentlessly about the damage. Which is why when you appeared before her clutching a bleeding wound from your shoulder, you’re quite honestly surprised she hadn’t dropped from shock.

“Oh my darling what has happened?!” She’d gasped, frozen in shock as she stood there not knowing what really to do.

“Bastards on their boats took a few shots at me and Shrykos whilst we were on our morn flight. They got two good shots at us to hurt us but don’t worry. Before we got here Shrykos managed to give them what was coming for them…” You groan, holding your shoulder in your hand that has now from the lack of adrenaline, has begun aching dramatically.

“Oh never mind the men I care only about you!” She fusses, coming closer before stopping half way, staring between your shoulder and your pained face. Maybe Alicent will drop from shock after all.

“SOMEBODY GET THE MAESTERS!” You hear a voice yell, before all appears to go dark before your eyes. When you wake though, it is as if the light is blinding you. You blink a few times to ground yourself, and it’s with a sudden surprise you realise that you feel a familiar warmth on your hand. You turn your head slightly, stiff from the lack of movement you think, and realise Alicent is staring at you with great worry on her face.

“Are you feeling alright my darling? The maesters have cleaned and sewed up your wound, but according to them it shall take a while for it to fully heal. You must tell me dear girl, in detail, what happened out there. What did those people do to you?”

“After me and Shrykos took off, we flew to the stormlands. We were drifting round shipbreaker bay, when those men the council warned us over took notice. Crossbows the size of my arm began shooting at us mother, so I am grateful they managed to get me and Shrykos only once.” At the mention of your dragon, your face turns to worry. Yet before you say anything, your mother quickly moves to interrupt you.

“Your dragon is safe my love. The dragon keepers have been keeping me up to date on her healing, and she is steadily heading to full recovery. The arrow has been removed fully, and the wound has stopped bleeding.” She says, her face betraying her as she is unable to hide her distaste of your dragon.

“Thank you mother, I appreciate the consideration. I know you have no love for Shrykos, nor any of your children’s dragons.” You say, your honesty true as you smile in thanks and understanding.

“You’re welcome my heart…” Your mother smiles, her hand reaching out to hold yours. Which while you admittedly want to shy away from, yet you push through your discomfort to allow your mother this moment that you know your adoptive sister would not have allowed.

“I do not want you to fly unaccompanied anymore my heart,” Alicent begins, shushing your with a single movement when she sees you about to harshly protest. “I have discussed this with your brothers and sister, and they have all agreed. Aemond has already taken the duty on his ever eager shoulders, and has said he will ride with you tomorrow morn at your usual time. It may be in your best interest to thank him next time you see him.”

“Of course mother…” You sigh, already dreading Aemonds smug face and wanting to punch it. Yet you withhold yourself from groaning out loud only from your mother’s sake, who is still holding your hand with intended comfort, even though she is doing nothing but make your blood pump fast around your body. Still, you say nothing. Allowing her to believe she is comforting you with a motherly smile on her face.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon had always possessed an amusingly short temper. It was especially tested though whenever it regarded to you. Whenever you got yourself hurt as a child, whether than was to do with training or just an accident in the halls, he always demanded to know the man behind your pain. It’s why you weren’t at all surprised when he reacted that same way when you flew back to Dragonstone and stumbled towards him with an arrow stuck in your shoulder blade.

“Who has dared to harm you zaldritzos? Tell me so I can show them what the exact consequence is for messing with a dragon. I am sure caraxes is already fuelled with my anger alone and is ready to face those who dares spill such precious blood.” Daemon snarls, his face unable to hide its anger as he holds your body steady so it won’t suddenly collapse.

“Bastards from the bloody ships on the bloody sea. Got us good… got us good…” You slur, every word feeling forced from your very gut as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes zaldritzos! Don’t you fucking close them!” You hear him snarl once more. But still, you cannot resist the temptation of sleep as you disobey your father and close your eyes.

When you find yourself waking, it is Daemon is standing by you while you slept. His eyes hard and stern as they observe you.

“I suppose you’re mad?” You can’t help but say. Your face admittedly ashamed as you stare to the floor, unable to hold his stare.

“Of course I am mad!” He yelled, refusing to allow you to turn your head away as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “My daughter has gone out without telling me, and she has gotten herself hurt the same way soldiers are hurt in wars!”

“I am sorry father!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes as the disappointed and anger shines through his. “I cannot control where those bastard men sail-“

“But you can control where you fly!” Daemon yells back. His voice rough and frustrated as the inner dragon inside him comes out. “I have taught you better than this zaldritzos! I have been teaching you how to ride that dragon of yours since you were a mere child! So why was it you were no doubt flailing about the sky like an amateur, when I know you could have done better?!”

“I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” You shout, shoving your father away as he stares at you with an expressionless face. “I am not a great leader, or a great dragon rider! I am still learning father! My lessons have not yet stopped being taught! Those men on the ships who shot at us were the ones you had warned us about. The ones claiming our great traditions to be an abomination and deserving of punishment. Me and Shrykos did not know their affiliation as we flew above them. Only when the arrows began to fly for our heads did we realise… I got an arrow in the shoulder, which has now since been removed. Shrykos though listened perfectly and managed to get out of there without any particularly damaging wounds. Still, my anger shon through her, and we managed to light the whole of the fleet up in flames before we flew back home. Where of course, you found me…”

Daemon is silent throughout your rant, yet by the end, when you’re breathless with how quickly you spoke, his hand is placed on your non-injured arm in an unfamiliarly comforting manner.

“I know you are not like me zaldritzos. While I have made you in my image, I hardly expected it to be your only outcome. You have become strong. You have become a fearsome warrior able to bring honour to our family name and our ancestors. I suppose… I may have forgotten that I too have made mistakes. I am sorry zaldritzos…”

The tears that had brimmed earlier in your eyes now tear down your face now that you hear your fathers words. His pride. So you do the only thing you can think of at that moment to show your appreciation. You take your arms and place them around Daemons waist, pulling him into a hug where your head is against his chest. Thankfully his arms seem to automatically go around your own body, and you can’t help but find this act comforting and safe.

“Thank you…” You can’t help but murmur.

“I would never let anything hurt you…” He murmurs back. Words which to anyone else may sound meaningless, but to you, you know they hide your father’s true feeling of care.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra had always been a sort of mother to you. A light to guide you in the darkest of your days. Whenever you took ill or had an injury, it was always she who stood by your bed, holding your hand in her own. Even though both husbands and loyal guards warned her of her possibly falling ill herself. Not that she ever did somehow though.

It was like that now. That afternoon, you had decided on a whim to take Shrykos on a fight around the coasts bordering the land surrounding Dragonstone. Yet it seems you coincidentally forgot Daemons talk about the rising threat of a religious group following faithfully the followings of the seven, as you tried to fly past them calmly and peacefully. Shrieking in fear when you realise it was not a harmless fly that flew past your face just now, but a very deadly steel-tipped arrow.

You barely made it out of there alive. The only injuries you yourself sustaining being a few arrow nicks on your shoulders, and the worse of it being a shallow puncture from one of the few successful shots. Shrykos though took most of the hits. Her rage seething the more those pathetic men tried to harm both her and her rider. It was quite satisfying you must say, when you flew away with the fresh smell of burning corpses still behind you, lingering on your clothes.

Yet when you got back home and were standing in front of your mother, that satisfaction quickly changed to a strange sort of guilt when you see her horror struck face.

“What has happened my darling!” She tells, taking ahold of your arm to look at your injury while you yell at her to try and say you were fine, even though you wince as soon as she yanks you towards her.

“Bloody men on the coast of Gull Town decided to shoot at us from their fucking boats. They got only a few good shots before Shrykos managed to get to them. By the time we left, we ensured they became fire and ash. I doubt there are any men alive after that….” You say, barely able to stand as the sudden blood loss reaches you.

You’re barely able to think as your mother brings you to the castle hanging on her shoulder. Soon, maesters surround you whilst your mother fusses by your bed to the left of you. She insists and demands certain things, but by the end, your grateful to feel the pain in your arm significantly lessen not only due to the lack of wooden arrow, but also due to the large amount of milk of the poppy that was pretty much forced down your throat.

“Is it all better now my darling?” Your mother asks, putting your hand between her own to soothe you as if you were a small child who’d scuffed their leg falling on some loose gravel.

“It is fine mother!” You insist. Even smiling as you play the part of the healthy child, able to bounce back from any injuries. Yet somehow she can still manage to see through your facade.

“Are you sure?” She asks again. Her brow raised in questioning as she makes you feel like a young child again. Small, and helpless as you cry to mother.

“Yes I am fine!” You firmly say, taking your hand from hers and placing it on the cold clinical bed sheets. Already missing the familial warmth your mother’s hands had provided you with. “I do not need you pressing!”

“Okay my love. I believe you.” Rhaenyra smiles, acknowledging her child’s want for independence. Moving from the chair she previously had sat on so she can place a quick kiss to the top of your head and smile fondly at the way your nose scrunches. “I will leave you now my love. The maesters had said you’ll fully heal by the moons next turn, but you’re fit to leave the bed tomorrow morn. I’ll visit you then.”

As quick as Rhaenyra leaves, you find yourself already wanting her motherly touch to tell you it’s okay. Your legs tucking under your chin as you hold yourself under the covers, letting your eyes shut so hopefully you’re able to wake up tomorrow by your mother’s voice.

Helaena Targaryen:

Compared to all your other family members, it has always been Helaena you were closest too. A close bond forging between the two of you since girlhood that not once has ever been broken.

You were with her when she claimed Dreamfyre, just as she was there for you when you claimed Shrykos. You also made sure to try and be with her whenever she experienced one of her, moments.

Yet that morning, you were way too busy trying to get ready for your usual morn flight to be with her when she took what the queen would call, a funny turn.

‘Blood of the dragon lost twice over. Beware the boats from bellow filled with men of hate.’

She’d seen your injury and the fire coming from your dragons mouth, and being the anxious person she was, she waited at the dragon keeps entrance with her hands fiddling with each other.

When you fly in holding your arm to try and stem the blood, getting off with difficultly as you try and not fall, you almost scare yourself when you turn and suddenly find yourself face to face with Helaena, who holds a bandage ready to treat you with it.

“Give me your arm…” She softly asks, waiting for you to release your arm from your grip so she can slowly and carefully take the arrow from your arm, choosing to ignore your vocal cries of pain so she can make sure to get the arrow out. When she does, she chooses to just drop the bloody wooden chunk to the floor so she can quickly wrap your now gushing wound, which she cleans with a slightly damp clothe that can’t have been out of the water bowl for long.

“What happened?” She asked while she cleaned your red streaked arm.

“Do you remember those men Aemond warned us about? The ones who hate us for our heritage?” You ask, waiting to hear Helaena unique hum to show she’s truly listening. “Well when I was flying by Tarth, those men were in there boats and obviously spotted me before I spotted them. So they shot at me till they hit me.” You shrug, regretting it soon as you did as you hiss at the sudden flare up of pain.

“It’ll hurt badly. I didn’t manage to take any milk of the poppy from the maesters, so we’ll probably need to visit them soon.” Helaena simply says, giving you a smile before she takes your hand in her own. An act you cannot say in words how much it means to you, given how you know of her usual revulsion for physical touch.

So you stay silent. Allowing her to lead you to the maesters with a small smile on your face, that is wiped right off when you become face to face with them. They stare at your with judgement and soulless eyes as they remove you from Helaenas comforting warmth and instead force you to feel cold metal against your flesh. They ignore you as they unwrap the bandages. Only giving each other looks as they wordlessly judge the state of your body.

It almost makes you want to tear their heads from their bodies and feed them to Shrykos. Who no doubt is feeling your frustrations and anger down in the dragon pit.

Yet you hold your tongue for Helaenas sake, who is watching the maesters take supposed special care of you from the corner of the room. She gives you small smiles whenever you make eye contact, and it’s only with them you manage to pull through. The milk of the puppy though they force down your throat certainly makes you more cooperative though you must say.

“Thank you Hel, for looking after me.” You say, staring at her as soon as the maesters deemed you healed enough and left you. No doing to go get the queen to inform her of your sudden injury.

“It is no problem…” She softly smiles back, moving forward to stand next to you so she can hold your hand in her own. Her soft flesh relaxing you possibly even more than the drugs flowing through your system. “I will always be there for you…”

Laenor Valeryon:

Even though you always knew that Laenor could never truly be your father, he nonetheless always managed to act like one better than anyone. While your mother was busy attending to your brothers, it was Laenor who was always busy attending to you, making sure you were fussed in a way a princess should be fussed.

He always made sure to give you the bestest care a princess may need it. Like right now for instance.

“I NEED A MAESTER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” You remember your father screaming while your vision slowly began to blur in a variety of difference places. “Where are you hurt ñuha nūmio? Where is the pain? What can I do?”

“Arrow in the fucking shoulder.” You groan, bile building in your throat as you resist the urge to vomit. “Only there father. Shrykos was hit too. Fuck it hurts so much…”

“Do not worry dear girl! The maester will come!” As he says this, guards come running with a maester in tow. The guards take ahold of you carefully as you nearly collapse under the sudden blood rush. The maester barking orders for what to do to you to cause the least amount of damage to your body as possible.

When you get to the healing room, you’re placed roughly onto a bed where now a whole group of maesters now flock to you like a group of crows over a fresh carcass. They all say a different method on how to treat you, yet it’s Laenor whose voice shines louder than them all.

“You will not cut up or harm my daughter!” He yells, his voice firm and harsh as he glares at them all. “You will take out that fucking arrow, and you will heal her. Or I swear, as the heir of the realms husband, I’ll make all of you fucking regret it!”

All is silent, and yet with a firm glare they all scatter to complete your father’s order. Soon, cloth is finding its way in your mouth to quench your screams as hands force the arrow once imbedded in your arm is forced onto a silver plate. Blood gushing down your arm in an admittedly disturbing manner.

By the end, there is an elder looking maester stitching up your blood coated arm, and an arrow head and some wood pieces. Laenor held your hand with every scream and every clench of your body. He made sure you felt as safe as you could in the presence of the same type of men who killed your aunt. He also made sure to quickly push them out as soon as they were done with there work. Nodding along in a dismissive manner as they insist they are still needed.

When they are eventually shushed away however, with the door shut quickly behind them, Laenor quickly finds himself by your side again. His hand laced firmly in yours as he takes a lone damp cloth so he can clean away the dried blood still decorating your wounded flesh.

“Does it hurt much? I can always call a maid to fetch you some milk of the poppy?” Laenor insisted, his touch delicate as he makes sure not to harm you in any way.

“It merely stings…” You shrug, wincing though soon as you do due to the sudden flare up in your shoulder. “I do not need any milk of the poppy father. I can manage my pain.”

“I can see that…” He grins, even chuckling when he sees your own smile. “Though, I must ask. What happened? You did not exactly give me much information before the maesters came for us.”

“Me and Shrykos began our normal journey to the direction of Runestone. But on the coast of Gull town, it appears those men mother had recently warned us about, the ones who deem our customs immoral and a disgrace to a seven, spotted us before we spotted them. They took no time before they were shooting at us with giant crossbows on their ship. They took us by surprise, and managed to get only a single time, but that was enough to enact Shrykos’ rage. I didn’t even say the command father! Shrykos enacted our joined rage and set fire to their ships and their bodies. If they weren’t dead by the time we left, I am almost sure they are all at least dead by now.”

He takes in your words carefully. Murmuring small words every so often while he holds your hand as a sigh of sympathy. When your done though, his face is smeared in deep anger. A hatred you have never seen your father show ever before in your lifetime.

“Well it’s a good think they are dead though,” He finally says, snapping from his thoughts with a huff. “Because if they were alive, Seasmoke would be gorging on a feast right now!”

“Thank you father…” You simply say, falling into his arms that welcome you immediately. You close your eyes and allow yourself to bask in his familiar comforting warmth.

[kkukverse]

thieves of the heart

summary: In the heart of Gotham’s night, they let the walls fall, trading sharp banter for quiet intimacy. The city’s chaos faded, leaving only the heat of their unspoken bond.

pair: batman!namjoon x catwoman!reader

genre: batman au

warnings & ratings: explicit sex scene | smut 🔞(minors dni)

wordcount: 7k

author's note: who's your favorite catwoman? so hard to choose, i'm torn between michelle pfeiffer (batman returns 1992) purely because her attitude, her wardrobe, the whip ahhh! but anne hathaway (the dark knight) was golden too! idk! anyway. hope u guys enjoy.

He is a man of control. 

Born from a long lineage of money and power, Namjoon is the most influential man in the city. It is no secret that he lost his parents. Gotham city practically bows down to his family, the Kim. How powerful is his family? Well his family is in charge of the dam that was built to run the electricity all over the city, lines of banks and corporate companies are ruled under the Kims too. It was believed that the very first generation of Kim was the founder of Gotham city. A city built from a wasteland to the most lavish city in the world. 

But everything comes with a price. 

As the only heir of the infamous Kim, his family was prone to danger. When he was a wee little boy, barely a teenager, his parents were brutally murdered in front of his eyes. Leaving him as the sole heir of Kim. After the very incident, he hides himself. No one really saw his face. He came in and out of his building with so little people know. He is just comfortable in managing his family’s empire from behind the scenes. After all, his family only hired the best of the best to assist in maintaining the legacy.

One thing that allows him to use his power for good is to help the citizens of Gotham. Namjoon wanted to be a plight of light because he saw how injustice roamed in his city. Day after day, the authority loses pitifully at the hands of the criminals. With his money he created a hero. Someone with no real name, a character that shows up when behind a mask. He became a batman.

How did he become a batman? That's another story to tell. 

Though he is a man of control, there’s only one person that can shake him to his core. 

“Namjoon,” 

“Not now, Alfred.” He walks past the old man. 

Pulling off his mask and the cape, at the first tug, the black cape was stuck and it made Namjoon yell out frustratingly. He snatched the cape until it tore from his shoulders. 

Alfred sighs, already thinking of making a new one, again. Namjoon is usually a calm man, but he sometimes forgets how strong he is. 

“Master Kim, it is my duty to remind you to keep calm. The wound on your leg is still fresh.” At the call of his formal name Namjoon flinched. Realizing he hurt his butler’s feelings. No, Alfred is much more than a butler to him. Alfred is a loyal man. Alfred has been taking care of him ever since he was born. Everything that he said is always for Namjoon’s best interest. Namjoon felt guilty at the sudden tantrum. He should’ve acted better.

“How does she always slip away so easily? It's like every time we get a trace of her, she is already four steps ahead of me,” Namjoon roughly ruffles his hair. Just thinking how he is so close to capturing the cat.

“Sly cat.” He snarled. “I swear I will not go easy on you.” Suddenly he can feel the stabbing pain on his left leg. The one that you caused. Namjoon has to go for hours of agony because you fire a crossbow just a few inches from his batmotor. Causing him to fall and being crushed by the heavy mobile. 

“May I ask, for what reason must you catch the catwoman, Namjoon?” Alfred monotonously asked. Honestly the old man is less interested in knowing the reason by now because as far as his wise age can conclude, his master and the catwoman have another issue than just chasing tails.

Namjoon just left the cave, limping. Alfred was all alone with an unanswered question. Alfred knew his master was wounded, not only on his leg, but also his heart.

“Get down right now! I swear I'll pull your legs! Look at this mess!” A piercing voice breakthroughs your dreams and almost makes you fall down from your hammock bed. The hammock was your safe haven. It is a bright orange hammock, tied so close to the ceiling because you’re the only one who can climb up to sleep there. With your legs dangling out of it, your body weighing down the hammock and Jungkook is worried that the ties will snap unless he does something about it, again. 

“What happened to your arm?!” Your best friend, big thick glasses Jungkook, gasped. He stares at the long gash from your forearm up to your elbow. “Oh dear, is this a pigsty or a house?!” He pinched on a piece of cloth he picked up on the floor while scrunching his pretty face. Hoping that they're clean.

“Kook, it's too early for this,” you yawn from the top of your bed. “I got home really late last night. Please let me rest.” You grumble. Eyes shut tight as you move your body in the tight hammock. Turning away from the nagging sounds of Jungkook.

But Jungkook is faster and he is itchy in his head the moment he sees the condition of your house. “Early, my ass. It’s evening, it's almost dusk. At what time you’re actually home?”

He climbed up the chair to smack the bottom of the hammock, hitting your butt as well. You yelped and flew out of it carelessly but managed to land on four on the floor. You fast reflexes woke you up. Wide awake.

“Fuck off!” You yelled at him.

“Poor Kitty, that trick works all the time.” Jungkook chuckles. “Now do something with your…” he sighs as his eyes caught a bunch of sparkles in the hammock. You're sleeping with jewelry, as usual “...house. Get up!” 

You love Jungkook, dearly. Best friend since highschool to be exact. He was the boy who was bullied and you’re the girl who saved the day. Just a cliche friendship trope. But really, the day you saved him was when you were too busy ‘pickpocketing’ Alex’s Superman watch as he was slamming Jungkook on the locker door. You accidentally twisted his arm and resulted in a serious pain for him and he released Jungkook. Ever since then Jungkook has followed you like a little duck.

Over the years of growing up together, both of you have been through so many hurdles and adventures. To this point, right now. He knows who you are, that's why he is special. You trusted him.

“How many times must I tell you? Trade them, cash them out for money, and we can eat grand food! Instead of weighing down your house with heavy golds and diamonds, why can't we just stuff our pitiful tummies with food?!” He nags as his busy hands are classing the clutter on the floor. You have a hoarding issue. 

“I love sparkling things, and you know that.” You pouted, with unruly hair, you're trying on a pearl necklace. Smirking at the sight in the mirror. Pulling up your hair, the necklace elongated your neck and they're just stunning! Mrs Kim knows how to live well, you sigh. His son will kill you if he finds out but nevermind.

“Why do I keep helping you to sort out your trash?!” Jungkook is inspecting a piece of painting. A big canvas of swirling colours. Jungkook doesn’t know much about art and he knows, so do you. It is a beautiful piece of art, and an expensive one.

“Really?! A Monet?! How do you even carry this!” He shouted, you winced at him but your hand was still clutching the pearls. A true picture of an aristocratic lady in a dramatic moment.

“Stop shouting!” 

“That’s it. I'm done. I'm done. No more stealing! Thieving! Next time you want something, think of a place to store them because this house is a second away from collapsing. And what that batman boyfriend of yours would think when he came over??” He babbles.

“Your mouth is moving too fast and I caught nothing.” You get up to palm your fist on his mouth. Jungkook is being too loud. You know what they say, ‘Speak of the devil and he will show up’ 

“Shut up Jungkook, he cannot catch me,” you whispered with wide eyes. Jungkook is smirking cheekily and you know it’s nothing good. 

Jungkook slaps your wrist and you let him. “Say that to this,” he fished out his phone from the back of his jeans. Swiping to find something before he yells out an Aha!

“Read!” He shoved the phone up to your face, with squinting eyes, you read the words.

“Tell her enough games, I'm coming over tonight.”

It was a message from Namjoon himself.

“You backstabbing shit! You motherfucker!” You jumped on his back, slapping his shoulders because not only Namjoon texted him but he exposed your little yet humble but also messy nest to him! You are a very territorial person. It is very unbearable to receive an unexpected visitor in your territory. You don’t like it. Simple. Not because you’re ashamed.

He lets out a boisterous laugh. “Watch out for the pearls!”

“No! How! Did! He! Know! My place?!” You emphasized on each word with a slap on his back.

“Well kitty, in case you forgot I walk in and out of his mansion everyday. I am his informant! The only person who knows his secret and yours. What do you expect?” Jungkook tried to pull you away from your body cage but he gave up. He walks to the kitchen with you still hanging on his back.

“Annoying. He is so annoying!” You grunt. “I was planning to steal a masquerade mask in the museum before his annoying ass shows up.” You whine in an unnecessary dramatic tone. 

Jungkook hums along as he pours down orange juice in a glass. “I know, I told him that too.”

“You little shit!” You karate chop Jungkook on his side neck, making him splutter out the juice. 

“Ugh!” Jungkook hunched down as the juice dripped from his chin to his beloved shirt. 

“You clean that up!” You jumped from his back and strutted down to the couch. Feeling satisfied seeing your friend in a mess. But the relieved feeling was a short one. The smug smile on your face slowly turns into a frown. Namjoon is coming and the thought of him makes you panic a little. 

“What is it that he wants this time,” you grumble. Furrowing your brows and crossing your arms on your chest. Very unamused of this situation. 

“Maybe an apology?” Suggested Jungkook. He has a good hearing and a very observant fella. 

“For what!” You barks. Jungkook raises his hands in peace. He knows better than to disturb the hissy cat.

“I don't know? Maybe because you bailed out on him when the two of you planned to ambush Bane?” Jungkook said with an unsure tone. Steadily scooches away from you. He doesn't want you to slap him again. You can be unpredictable and your moves are very agile. Jungkook shivers at the possibility of being scratched by you. He experienced it once before and nope, he is not trying his luck.

“I didn't leave him.” You mumble. Eyes casting down your toes. Wiggling them as a distraction method. “I was distracted.”

“Tell him your reason, on your own” Jungkook covers his ears as he prepares for another shout from you. He is a bit ashamed to admit that he flinched a little when you straightened your body.  

There’s nothing wrong in what Jungkook just said. 

“Namjoon is a nice dude, sometimes you’re the one who loves to tease him too much.” Jungkook adds. 

Now you're looking more like a scolded puppy instead of the feisty cat he usually knows. Jungkook likes it when he brings out Namjoon’s name to make you think rationally. Because that certain man always brings out this side soft, yet fierce of yours. He shakes his head with a smile on his face.

You're not replying. Instead you stand up to push Jungkook out of the house.

“Wait-” the door slammed on his face. 

“Ouch,” he mutters. “Call me if you need me. And clean your house! He's coming.” Jungkook reminds you again. He stepped out of the apartment complex by the back door, disappeared into the untangle maze of buildings with a bag that contained his green and black outfit. 

The robin is out to watch the city. Namjoon is counting on Jungkook to watch the day as he will be very ‘busy’.

“Open the door.” Namjoon no longer knocks as he said the words for the fifth time and yet the owner of the house is unbudged from the inside. He’s been standing at your door for half an hour now. He is a man of virtue and patience but he swears, you’re the only that pushes his button. He hates that he likes it.

You were sitting on the couch, with knees pressed to your chest. Unbothered. You want Namjoon to know that he has no effect on you at all. Despite not welcoming him to your house, the house is decently neat. The moment you pushed Jungkook out, you scrambled to clean the mess. In reality you just shoved all the jewelry in every cupboard you can find.

“Please,” his soft voice is melting you. How dare you Namjoon! You yelled to yourself.

“No.” Your voice, albeit soft, Namjoon can hear it just fine.

“Don't make me break the door, Kitten.” His dominating aura can be felt even if there's a thick door in between the two of you. You shudder at the thought of his face when he calls your pet name with that tone.

Almost mewling in surrender, you bite back your lips. Refusing to submit. You're the catwoman. The greatest, most flexible burglar, you cannot simply bend down to a man's will. 

“Fine,” Namjoon took one step back, his trench coat ruffled with his movements and your sharp ears caught that. Is he leaving already? You catwalking to the door. Being aware of making any sound. With every careful step you took, there’s not even a sound. Namjoon and Jungkook think you’re the most stealth person they know but they refuse to boost your ego. 

“I’ve warned you,” You heard the echo of his voice. So, you took another step. You were sure by the echo, Namjoon left the door. With confidence, your hands are on the door knob. Bracing yourself if he even tried to break the door. You will scratch his face if he destroys your door.

A silent. 

One beat, two beats. There's zero sounds beyond the door and you let out a sigh of relief. Though your face is frowning. He really did leave just like that?

“Really, Kitten? This is an old trick.” 

You screamed at the voice that was whispering close to your ear. 

“WHAT THE FU-” hand is on your chest as it heaves up and down. Panting from the shock. Your eyes trace behind him. The windows. 

“How the fuck do you even fit through the window, Namjoon?” With wide eyes you look back to him and the wide opened windows. The curtains are flowing when the wind blows. “Didn't you learn any basic human courtesy? Like, how you should behave when you're in someone's house? I pity Alfred. His poor soul has been teaching your sorry ass since you're a kid and this is how you act?!” You scoffed.

“Hush, kitten.” He sighs. Taking off his beige trench coat and throwing it out on the floor. Exposing his broad shoulder and chest with the tight turtleneck he's wearing. His bulging biceps are screaming, a stitch away to rip apart his top. Really? How did he even fit the window?! 

“Hush? You're in my house. You hush!” Hands on your hips. Ready to turn your back to open the door, expecting to kick him out. 

In a matter of seconds he slams his palm firmly on the wooden surface, not allowing you to open it.

“Don't you have anywhere else to go? Someone to save?” You gritted your teeth as you face him.

“Doesn't matter.” He crouched his insanely gorgeous tall figure to you as your whole body is pressed on the door. With his stunning face leaning closer and closer to yours. His perfect hair and his big hands are caging you. If you don't have a will in you, your knees will buckle down first. Weak kitty. 

“What matters right at this moment is, you,” his lips jutted out towards you, “pretty, cunning, and sly cat. You have an apology to make, kitten.” His nose is nuzzling on your neck with every description of you coming out from his mouth. 

You can feel a pathetic whimper at the end of your throat and you’re fighting it with everything that’s left in you to keep it at bay. Letting out a sound would make him win so you're biting your tongue. The pupils are shaking and expanding as your sense is heightened when he slowly circled his arm on your waist. Pushing himself a lot closer than before. Almost chest to chest.

“Hum? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles at your stiffness. 

Like a flicker switched on, his words make you brazen up to fist his perfect hair, pulling him up from your neck to face you. Scratching your pointy nails on his scalp while your other hand is cupping his chin. The hissing sound, the satisfied grin and the way his eyes rolled back makes your thighs twitch. “Tsk, this batsy, batsy boy,” you lick on his cheek. 

“Nuh uh kitten, this is not your game anymore.” Namjoon snapped open his eyes and it's like two dark dark gazes swallowing your soul. He pulls you up and with an instinct you tighten your hold with your legs on his waist and arms on his neck with him slamming you back on the door.

“You left me, baby, how could you?” Instead of an accusing tone, the way Namjoon said them is so sultry. With his deep raspy voice. Getting braver now, his lips are on your neck. He bites and sucks ferociously. His big palm rubbing your side up and down, causing goosebumps at his electrifying touch, every damn time. 

“Nam- slow down, ahh!” Your arms and legs feel like jelly and they're fast to fall down from his body. But Namjoon will never let you fall. Bouncing you back, he grips hardly on your hips. He did not stop sucking and licking your neck. Definitely will leave some more marks, since the last ones are not faded yet. 

He is making sure you stay in position. By position, it’s your lower belly snuggling his crotch area, already feeling the hardening of the other big body part of his. His lips are attacking yours now. Swallowing the sinful sounds you make. Oh, he won.

“So pretty, you always sound so pretty for me Kitten,” he breathes in between kisses. 

You're catching your breath after he kept sucking your breath out of your lungs. Your thighs are trembling at the feeling of that hard thing that is poking your lower stomach. Someone’s clearly excited.

“Joon,” you mewled. 

“I almost beat Bane to death, baby. All because I was furious you left me in the sewer. You are a mean woman.” He spanked and squeezed your ass and the act jolted you up. 

“Thank god Jungkook came and took over. Bane would've been dead instead of going to the Gotham prison. All because of you.” Another spank and this time he kneaded your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your ass is his stress relief ball. 

You giggle at the thought and the sound brings another glimmer to Namjoon's eyes. You sure are his death. An anti-heroine who rejoices in other people's agony.

“Aww you're a sweet little saint aren't you. Couldn't kill a soul,” you fake pouted at him. Though your entire face is clearly heated up from his ministrations.

Chuckling, Namjoon bites your earlobe. “Yes, baby. Though I shall never kill, I can make your pussy stings.” He whispered. The hair on your body all rises up at his words.

With your body being supported by the door, he sneaks one hand inside your thin, tight shirt. Namjoon almost drools like a dog in heat when he sees you wearing such a sinfully thin shirt and a boy short. Your attire accentuates your perfect figure. Your round ass, the tits. God, your perky tits.

“I’ve been dying to touch these pretty tits. I can see them jiggle when you get so worked up just now. Driving me nuts.” he mumbles. 

“Oh no! You’ve been staring at a lady, what a bad role model!” You fake gasp. You know he’s coming so there’s no point in wearing something that restricts him from seeing you clearly.

He sucks and bites even harder with a growl and your neck is blossoming with red like cherries. You winced at the slight pain but soon it washed away. Rubbing your thighs together for friction, hoping for him to not notice that you are reaching your patience limit. 

He did notice how your pretty legs tremble and the way you’ve been rubbing your thighs, yearning for friction for your pussy. He silently cheered for himself at that sight. This sly kitty is about to become putty in his hand, again, 

Namjoon feels that this is not enough, so he carries you to your table. His impatient hand started to push away all of the stuff on it, while his other hand is holding you up securely. 

Not allowing him to conquer you, you lick his neck. His legs stiffen when you sink your teeth on his skin. You know really well of his soft spot. 

“Ah, baby. I haven’t put you down yet,” Namjoon sighs. His tone is darker now. He’s trying hard to control it but his dick is begging for a sweet, tight and slick pressure. As if you can read his mind, you’re slowly palming his clothed dick. A pure torture to Namjoon.

“Put me down, now, or I will keep teasing you like this.” you command. Giving his ear a lick.

But Namjoon refused to lose. He grabs your waist with his big arms, sliding you on the table until your legs are dangling at the edge of it. His action excites you but where’s the fun in giving up first?

“Mr batman, do you wanna fuck me that bad?” You pout. Pushing his buttons is the best. Namjoon has this gentleman facade that he has to take care of. During the day, he is the most respected man in the city, at night, he is the hero. Usually the hero will give you an eye roll and ignore you. 

This time, there’s no eye roll from him, not even a sound. Only his labored breaths, his eyes are hazy with lust. “Yeah, I do,” he breathes.

The unexpected answer from him caught you. 

Pulling down your shorts, Namjoon is on his knee. Like the knight in shining armor, his eyes fixed on the prize, your pussy. It’s almost shameful to be in this position, with his breath fanning your hole and it would have been great if he played with it but he is just staring.

“Such a glorious cunt,” he whispered under his breath. His voice brings chills to both your body and your pussy. 

Your eyes never leave him. How can you, when all you can see is his luscious hair in between your legs. You want to tease again. He looks so focused and so cute.

“If you only gonna stare, might as well go home,” you cheekily said. One hand palming your cunt. Covering him off his best view. That kinda pushed him.

You know Namjoon is a buff guy, you just never realize how buff he actually is until he looms over your body. He propped up both of your legs over his shoulders. He inches closer until you swear you can feel his bulge. You like it when he’s like this.

“That’s not nice,” he tutted. He took your hand, the one that covered your privates and he brought it to his cheek. Leaving a soft kiss on your palm. “Now, will you be a dear, and use these fingers to touch yourself,” he commanded.

“No, why would I?” You tilted your head to your side while biting your lips.

“Or, you'd rather me to do it, but you’re just too shy to ask, hum?” Namjoon chuckled. He thinks he already got you soft. He gave another kiss on your palm before he put it down. Now his hand is slowly caressing your bare pussy. Luckily for him, you’re already wet. 

“Answer me,” he said as he ran his two fingers on your folds. A fluttering feeling but it already makes your body twitch. “Someone’s excited,” Namjoon said with his mouth close to your legs. Even if you wanted to show your dominance, your body seems to betray you. He notices the goosebumps on your delicate skin, he can help but to leave trails of kisses until he is a little too close to your pussy.

“Just touch me already!” You bark.

“As you wish,” he smirks.

He puts his middle finger inside your warm pussy. Namjoon is too ashamed to admit how your wet velvet walls feel like a home to him and that is just his finger. He moves his finger in and out very languidly. He stares at your moves in relief. As if this is what you need. And he wanted more. So, he picks up a pace and starts pumping in two fingers inside you. The room is filled with the squelching sound and the muffling moan from you. He thinks it’s such a shame when you suppress your voice. He wants to hear you scream for him.

You on the other hand are becoming a mess. His elongated fingers hit your spot so perfectly. It is embarrassing to succumb like this, especially on his hand. He really knows how to touch you. Although you wanna act all tough, your body says otherwise. From the way your pussy keeps clenching on his digits, shamelessly gushing out your wetness, to your writhing body, lost pleasure. This game is not over yet, you thought. You still have a chance to dominate him.

“Ah Namjoon, you’ve been practising?” You breathe. Actually he is the one who is taking your breath away with the thrust of his finger. It didn’t help when Namjoon made a come-hither movement in your pussy. You wish to cover your face. It only satisfied him to the moon to see you grimace in lust. The knitted brows, the gaping mouth, and your eyes. Your lustful eyes never lie.

“Why? Is this the first time a guy fingered you so well?” Namjoon retorted back. 

“Cocky.” You bite back. 

“Uh oh, someone’s mad.” Namjoon teases. The pushes from his finger did not stop with his knuckles deep inside of you and he topped it off by rubbing his big thumb on your clit. Your body trashes at the overwhelming feeling. He managed to shut you up with your witty words. He loves this feeling, when he can make you scream just by using his hand.

“Yes! Nggh,” you groan. The band snapped and unbeknownst to you, Namjoon was awestruck. 

The gush released from your pussy drenched his fingers and it dripped on the palm of his hand. Looking at you, hair sprawling on the table, thighs quivering and your laboured breath. Your face is glowing. Namjoon is dying to fuck you right here and now. 

Just before he can do anything, you beat him to it. 

Sitting up straight, your hands are busy unbuckling his belt. You know it's your chance when Namjoon straightens his body right after you cum. From the look from his eyes, deep and dark. Namjoon is not going to stop there. He wants it too but you are gonna give it to him on your own terms. 

“Not so fast, batman.” You whispered to his ear. The bodies are so close together, almost chest to chest. It drove both of you insane but you bask in torturing him. Your left hand is caressing his cheek. Feeling soft underneath your touch. He must’ve shaved before he came here, your heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of his cologne and you’re cheering from the inside. You noticed Namjoon makes himself handsome before meeting you. Always. 

Right hand is slowly touching his muscular body. From the firm pectoral muscles - which makes you salivate- to his sturdy abdomen. Your fast hand sneaks inside his tight turtleneck shirt. Feeling every ridges and the bumpy muscles. Your eyes are locked on his face. To search for any emotions or reactions from your touch. He usually is very stoic and very dominant. It's not fair sometimes, when he melts you into a puddle. So, you want to do that to him. Melts. You lightly teased and pinched his nipple. 

To your surprise, he groaned. Body tightened at the sudden pressure.

His face is blushed and you can see how he struggles to control his face. His forehead is scrunched and his eyes are shut. Feeling the reaction was too small for you. You keep on moving downwards. Guiding your hand to his happy trail before settling on his bulging pants. 

The one that’s been poking you from the beginning. Paying extra attention to it, you slightly rub your palm around it. You know his size but it always excites you.

You’re not the only one who is excited, it seems. Namjoon is putting both of his hands at your side, gripping the table as if it anchors him down before he drowns even further. Your touch is so electrifying. Your delicate hand trailing from his chest, his nipples, his whole body and a little scratch from your fingers are to die for. He is a weak man for you.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You chuckled. Your hand is busy playing with his hard cock, up and down. By unbuckling his belt, it provides you more space to play. You don’t know what got into him but you wanted to keep teasing him more. This is fun.

“Dick already this hard, must have been painful, huh?” You cheekily pouted. Already imagining his answer. 

“Touch it.”  He commanded and you grinned like a Cheshire cat. Unwilling to give him what he wants, just yet, you choose to play coy.

“Where’s the fun? If I give you what you want?” You asked. Shrugging your shoulders and acting like you don’t care. You let go of the hand that grips his dick and Namjoon almost whines at the loss of your touch. He was almost bursting when he saw you unravel with his fingers and with your playful touch on his hardened dick. To be deprived of you is like a punch to his gut.

It has been awhile since the two of you were in this position. Truth is, Namjoon missed you. And you know how to make a guy, even the strongest ones, weak on their knees. The thing with you, you are quite literally a cat. Nobody can hold you down. The moment he thinks you’ll stay longer at his manor, you’re gone. Strutting through the street, getting yourself in danger. 

Namjoon doesn’t have to worry about you, but he can’t ignore the nagging voice in his head. What if something happened to you? What if you get in trouble? What if he couldn’t be there on time? Love is a wild thing. 

If it’s up to his possessive instinct, he’d put you in a luxurious cage. Safe and sound. But who is he kidding? This is The Catwoman. The same woman that always shows up earlier than him at any crime scene. The same woman who knows the narrow streets, the nook and cranny of Gotham because you love to wander around. The one he first met years ago on a yacht that holds a handful of elite people related to Kim's business. 

You were very fast and agile, buglaring some of the passengers' jewelry and expensive belongings. Namjoon is just lucky enough to catch you red-handed. When he unmasked you, he was sure that was when he fell for you. Or maybe when he saw first-hand you were in hand-to-hand combat with the bad guy. Also, you’re a master at flirting.

What started as him catching you and cooperating with you, turns to sharing a bed with you. It has been awhile since you left his manor, sulking because he stopped you from stealing a huge diamond cut on an old crown from the museum. The shimmering stone has bewitched you for quite some time and Namjoon was there first. Protecting it. Mission unaccomplished. So you left his big ol house.

“You know what, I’m getting bored. If you’re gonna daydream, go home.” You fake a yawn. 

“Really? Let me check,” Namjoon eyebrows twitched up. Unamused. He gently pushed you back on the table. “Enough game, just wanna be inside you,” he adds. He took off your tee in one swift motion, and instantly placed his hand on your perky tits. Kneading the soft tissue. 

“Ahh that’s more like it,” you sigh.

Namjoon didn’t reply with words. He turns to one of your nipples and starts sucking on it like a starved man. He hums in joy when he gets to taste your skin like this. Waves of sensations are crashing on you as he paid attention to your other nipples. He licks and laps and sucks on the skin around your nipples. Every time his nose brushed with your sensitive nipples, your body jolted. 

“This is for your tease just now,” he mumbles as lightly bites on the hardened bud. Earning a short scream, from you.

“That really hurt!” You smacked on his bare body. You have no idea when he took his shirt off. 

“Don’t pout, baby. You like it when it hurts,” Namjoon cooed while aligning his stiff dick to your entrance. For someone who said it will hurt, he sure does take his sweet, sweet time to fuck you.

You, on the other hand, are very impatient. “C’mon darling,” you said with a sultry voice, inciting him to just ram his dick into you. Your dangling legs are now hugging him, your heels planted to his firm buttocks, pushing him straight into you. 

“Easy, love” Namjoon chuckled. You’re like a cat in heat and Namjoon secretly loves it. In one swift movement, he slotted deep inside your warm pussy. It’s been a really long time for him. Apparently to you too.

“Ahhh, see how perfectly your dick fits in my pussy, it’s like we’re meant to be,” you joke. Namjoon didn’t laugh, instead he picked up the pace. The longer he stays inside of your pulsating pussy, he will blow his load right now. Scratch that. Seeing how good he makes you feel right now, makes him wanna cum.

Your lean legs around his waist are somehow limiting his movement and that’s bothered him, so he hooks your legs on his arms. With one quick thrust all at once, you can see how focused Namjoon is. His eyes can’t get enough from looking at how his dick pistoning in and out of your pussy, fully coated with your juice. The sound of the squelching and the skins slapping mixed with your moans is what he lived for. Hero? The knight? Those names are out the window. He is no saint.

“Not so bored now, huh?” He asked.

There’s nothing you can say back when moan after moan escapes your lips.

Namjoon steals a glance or two at you and god, he loves it when he can make you become a mess. You threw your head back with the satisfied emotions written all over your face. Your arms are above your head as you grip the edge of the table. Your nails are gonna be fucked but who cares?Namjoon loves this view, your exposed body and your bouncy tits and your fucked face. It is as if this is something that you crave for too long, and he’s the one that delivers it to you. The table is shaking violently but neither of you care. His hand firmly grips on your thigh and you counter it back by clenching hard on his dick. That elicited a suppressed groan from him.

You like him so much. His bigger build towering over you like this, him taking full control when fucking you — not all the time, because that’s not fun, and you love controlling him too — he fucks so good when he’s desperate like this. You feel the band around your lower belly is about to snap and Namjoon can tell by how your back started to arch and the throaty moans that come from you. He sneaks his thumb to the bud on your pussy mound and starts to rub circles on it. The waves of simulations crash you down. 

“God, you’re killing me,” he groaned. Your pussy wall is tight like a vice, and it keeps sucking him in. It is almost slippery. “Such a greedy cunt,” he adds. Some of his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and you can see from the muscle on his neck and his clenched jaw that he is so determined to fill you to the brim. Looking at your orgasmic face is certainly not helping, so he hides his face on your neck.

“In me, cum in me,” you command. Your flexible legs are suddenly on his waist again, securing him closer as if he is not balls deep enough inside of you. “I’m on pills,” you whispered to his ears. He picked up the pace as he gripped on to the flesh of your ass. You felt him fumbling the rhythm with his grip on your ass, leaving marks as he thrusted inside for the last time. Ribbons of cum painting your pulsating walls. 

He let out a long pant and gently released his grasp on you. He raised his head to look at you and you can a cocky smirk across his face at your fucked out expression. His dick is still warm and snuggled inside you.

“Fine, you won this time,” you rolled your eyes at his smug face. You winced a little when he pulled out his coated dick and he grabbed a roll of tissues from the kitchen before he wiped you clean. Once you’re clean, he can’t stop himself from kissing you while putting on your shirt. Of course you kissed him back as your hand is busy rubbing the back of his head. A silent pat that you’re kinda missing him too. 

The sudden sound of police siren and gunshot stopped the two of you. Naturally, Namjoon carries you to the opened window. Glancing down he can see two to three police cars, blaring their sirens as blue and red coloured the road. You’re looking up and the bat sign is already flashed up in the sky. 

“Oh baby, it’s work time. Shall we?” Namjoon rubs your back, eyes bore on you as the moonlight makes your face glow so beautifully. He fell once again by the way your eyes stare at his signs in the sky and the smirks on your face. Namjoon can never be sure about the look of this face. It’s like you’re so proud of him but it also could be your mischievous look as if someone just said “playtime”. Whichever it is, Namjoon is smitten. 

“See you there, batsy,” you whispered before you backflipped from his hold. All this time you could’ve easily gotten out of his hold. Namjoon shakes his head at the sudden escape of yours. Sly kitten!

“Maybe we can have a second round there!” you shouted.

“Yeah, yeah” Namjoon replied, only to himself. He knows there’s nothing stopping you from what you want. His heart with a claw-shaped marks is beating alive.

Namjoon touched the pocket of his coat and was relieved that you didn’t notice the box inside of it. You have a very good instinct especially for jewelry. Before he’s done, he has to make sure the box that contains the very diamond from the crown — the one that you wanted to steal so much — is secure. 

He bought the diamond at the highest bid only to place it on top of the band of a ring. Your betrothal ring. 

Namjoon rushed to his bat mobile, all suited up. There's a particular woman waiting for him, you. You stolen jewels, secrets, and even his heart, but as the first light of dawn touched Gotham, all he could do was smile—because you always gave him a reason to chase.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you. 

“I hate rubbers.”

You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip. 

“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”

Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gonna start cuddlin’ after too?”

“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”

“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder. 

“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”

“How ya even keep up with that now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again. 

“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to—well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”

“I don’t need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”

“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”

The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.

“I’ll make a run an’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “What? Said we’d deal with it an’ I meant it.”

“I’ll go with you then.” 

“Nah, I got it. Just bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason for ya to go out in that mess.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”

He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Just don’t need ya trippin’ me up.”

Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—

“I’m going too.”

“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”

“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.” 

“Fine. Whatever.”

You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by. 

The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through. 

“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”

“You’re the one that knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”

You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms. 

You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter—swift and silent. 

The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue. 

You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open. 

There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth. 

“S’me. S’just me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove. 

“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled. 

“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town. 

“Well, that was fun.” 

Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change. 

In some ways, life would go on. 

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?” 

“Nah. Gonna see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again. 

“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”

“See ya.”

“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp. 

“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated. 

“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”

“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”

You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.” 

“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”

You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. “It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”

“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”

“I can handle myself, daddy.”

“I know you can, peanut. I just—wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark. 

You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now. 

Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent. 

“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”

Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle. 

Somewhere outside, your father was screaming. 

[ghostboneswrites2]

Crush (2)

<- (1)

Summary: In this continuation of Crush, you and Daryl struggle to survive together against both outside threats and interpersonal turmoils.

Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, allusions to intended SA, grief/trauma, mean!Daryl, angst, kind of lengthy, lots of action in this one, not proofread, typed on my phone, mild comfort/fluff at the end

A/N: Some canon divergence here! In the show, the Claimers are first seen in an interaction with Rick. For storytelling purposes, the first and only interaction with the Claimers is with you and Daryl. This also didn’t necessarily go in the direction I originally intended 😬

(Masterlist) (Taglist) (Daryl Dixon Fic Challenge)

dividers by @sister-lucifer

By the time the prison fell, you and Daryl had barely spoken a word to each other. You both seemed to decide that the easiest approach was no approach at all. Resolution and closure were far to unattainable to strive toward for either of you.

The day the Governor came back and destroyed your home, you almost perished with it. Had it not been for Daryl being there to drag you by the arm as he fled the scene, you’d have been walker-chow for sure. Your legs seemed to move on their own for a long time. Your mind had long since tapped out and left you running on autopilot. Days passed like this; wide traumatized eyes staring into the distance as you stumbled over crunching leaves, unfazed by protruding branches that scraped past and tore your clothes. You were dirty, hungry, thirsty, empty.

Daryl wasn’t much better off. I’m his desperate attempt at survival, he was violently forcing his trauma and grief down the hatch. He was wound tight as a thread, ready to snap at any moment.

Perhaps, in hindsight, this was the best case scenario for you both. Had either of you been in your right minds — in touch with your human inhibition — then neither of you would have survived the night that the Claimers attacked you.

The fire was the first mistake. It was a dry and cloudy night littered with gusts of chilly wind. With the lack of shelter to shield you from the harsh breeze, neither of you moved to put the fire out before bed. That was your second mistake: sleep. After all this time, you should have known sleep was a privilege you couldn’t afford.

“Well, what do we have here?” Joe mused from above, sadistic grin just barely visible in the dark. Your eyes were wide open in an instant, body scrambling to reach for a weapon before a baby boot impacted your chest, pinning you down in the dirt. You gasped, struggling to breathe under the weight of the man who led the Claimers. “Ah-ah… I’ll take that.” He chuckled as he reached down and unsheathed your knife.

Panicked, your eyes darted around in search of Daryl. He was already kicking and fighting as two other men held him back.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about your friend.” Joe sighed. “Or— Boyfriend? Husband? Uncle? Makes no difference, really.” He shook his head.

“I’m claimin’ the vest.” A scraggly man piped up, snickering through crooked yellow teeth.

“I got the crossbow.” Another one chimed in.

“And, I… claim you.” Joe concluded, leaning down over you, showering you in his rancid breath. You flared your nostrils in disgust as you squirmed under the worn rubber of his shoe. “No use in fightin, darlin’. Hell, if ya make it easy on me, I might even let one of ya walk away from this.”

As Joe straightened himself to listen his jeans, the weight of his foot on your chest lightened just enough for you to shove him off. He found amusement in this act of rebellion, having faith in his men to hold Daryl back and keep you in line for him. With two on Daryl, Joe on you, and one bystander on the lookout, the odds would have appeared to have been in his favor. The only flaw in this plan was the gun you had tucked in the back of your jeans.

As you pushed Joe’s foot away, the only response he afforded was a cocky laugh. Otherwise his attention was still set on the belt he had just unfastened, fingers moving toward his zipper. You took this moment to sit straight, pulling your gun from behind you and aiming it right at Joe’s head. The contented smirk her wore quickly faded as his fingers came to a halt. Slowly, he lifted his hands in the air and frowned at you.

The two men that held Daryl had been watching with hungry eyes up until this point, excited to see what Joe had in store for you. When your gun raised and Joe froze, their expressions dropped to show concern, eyes bouncing between you and their leader with anticipation.

“That was not a good idea.” Joe scolded you lowly, drawing the attention of the man keeping watch who lifted his gun and aimed it down at you. “You kill me, these guys are just gonna kill you.”

“So I finally get some good shut-eye and I get to take at least one of you assholes out with me?” You fired back coolly. Days and days running on autopilot had allowed you the calmness you felt under such immense pressure. The threat these men posed was not lost on you, but neither was the hopelessness of life on the run. You truly had nothing left to lose, except a life that didn’t really meet the criteria of living.

“Huh.” Joe clenched his jaw as he huffed, glaring at the other men as if they were to do something about the situation. Feeling the pressure of his pack-leader’s short fuse, one of the men hanging onto Daryl decided to reach for his knife and hold it up to Daryl’s temple.

“Drop it, or the boyfriend gets it.” The man threatened, lips curled into a proud smile. Daryl’s head hung slightly forward, greasy tufts of hair dangling over his eyes. He kept his sights on the man, ignoring the idiot on his other side who’s grip had listened enough to break free from had Daryl wanted to.

See, your strength may have been rooted in the ability to remove yourself — to shut off all parts of you that didn’t serve your survival — but Daryl’s strength was in his passion for survival. It was all he had known from boyhood to manhood, and he was good at it. He knew how to watch and wait for the time to strike. He had patience, he was resilient, and he was strong. If Daryl knew nothing else, he knew how to live. It was not only a primal instinct but a guiding principle. Devoid of love and connection, he was filled to the brim with determination and brute force. So, he analyzed.

The man who held him at knifepoint had a flimsy hold of his blade, and his grounding was amateurish. His body bounced side to side giddily and his feet held no real bearing on the ground. The other one seemed to have a careless hold on Daryl, not really focused on the fact that he was responsible for preventing Daryl from breaking free. He was too distracted by the stick-up between you, Joe, and their lookout.

Daryl knew he had a fair chance at turning the tables and gaining an upper hand on the band of brutes, he only needed to choose the right time. As he prepared to strike, his breaths quickened in pace, huffing loudly into the tense silence. The lookout turned his attention to Daryl for a moment, sim following his gaze. When the lookout’s eyes and gun made their way back to you, Daryl shoved his shoulder to his right as hard as he could, knocking the man with a knife to his temple off balance.

The man struggled to find his bearings. With the knife no longer an immediate threat, daryl was able to swiftly pull the other guy into a headlock. Now, he had a human shield, and the lookout nor the man with the knife could hurt him without hurting their friend.

Joe was growing impatient, but he had to remain calm. Things were quickly turning upside down, and he couldn’t afford for his men to make any more mistakes.

“Now boys.” He spoke up calmly as the lookout and the man with the knife kept their attention trained on Daryl. “We don’t wanna let things get too out of hand. I’m sure Len wouldn’t appreciate getting hit in the crossfire.”

You figured Len must’ve been the man Daryl was slowly choking to death in a headlock. You kept your gun aimed at Joe, deciding he was the main threat given his status amongst the others. With Daryl broken free and their leader at gun point, you realized you might have had the upper hand.

“The one with the gun.” You said.

“Tony.” Joe nodded.

“Tony.” You repeated. “Toss the gun to my friend.”

Tony hesitated, eyes pleading for guidance from Joe. Joes eyes traced around the camp, taking everything in, weighing his options. With a defeated sigh he nodded to Tony, who did as you demanded and tossed the gun over to Daryl’s feet. Daryl slid it closer to himself with the tip of his boot before dragging Len down with him to retrieve it. Now, you and Daryl both had a gun and a hostage. Daryl kept one arm around Len’s throat while the other pointed the gun and Tony and the guy with the knife. “Toss it.” Daryl ordered. Knife-Guy glanced around at his friends before reluctantly tossing the knife a few feet away.

“Now, lay down flat. Face down. Tony and the other one first.” You instructed. They obeyed. Daryl finally grew tired of Len’s choking sounds. He pushed Len to the ground and stepped on his back to keep him still. You finally looked to Daryl for any clues on what to do next.

Daryl glanced around, seemingly considering your silent request for guidance. He knew these men would have to die. It was the only way it could be.

Joe, though, a resourceful man, took the only chance he could when you looked away from him and at Daryl. He tackled you down and wrestled you for the gun, knowing Daryl wouldn’t have a clear shot to stop him. As Daryl’s attention fell on you and your struggle for the upper hand, Tony pushed himself up and lunged for Daryl. Chaos broke out. Punches and kicks were thrown and desperate curses echoed into the night.

Len wrestled the gun away from Daryl, but he couldn’t get a clear shot while he fought Tony and the one who had the knife. Daryl ended up finding the knife once the other two got the upper hand and kicked him into the ground. He aimlessly slashed the blade, luckily slicing Tony’s Achilles tendon. Blood spurted from the wound as he fell to the ground, crying out in pain, cursing Daryl with any insult he could muster up. Len and Knife-Guy took a step back from Daryl as he climbed back up to his feet. Daryl’s face was bloody and beat up, but somehow it made him more intimidating.

Len held the gun up nervously, gulping as Daryl paced side to side, just as predator waiting to pounce on his prey. “Cmon.” Knife-Guy urged Len impatiently. “Shoot his sorry ass.”

Len couldn’t, though, because he had no bullets left. He hadn’t come across the ammo he needed in weeks, but it had really been an issue up until that moment.

The thing was, Daryl knew the pistol wasn’t loaded when he held it. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as it should have been. So, without hesitation, Daryl stepped forward and slashed the blade once more, just barely missing Len’s arm as he and the other man dodged backward.

Meanwhile, Joe had finally wrestled your gun out of your hands and dragged you to your feet. He pressed the barrel against your cheek harshly and chuckled with triumph.

“Well, ya gave it a damn good shot. I respect that. Life is precious, and whatnot.” He said as he caught his breath. His face was tatted and scratched up from your attempts at self defense.

Daryl stopped his assault on Len and the other man when he noticed you had lost the battle against Joe. Knife-Guy moved to reach for his knife but Daryl was quick to lash out again.

“Uh-uh-uh.” Joe scolded. “See, when you have the upper hand, you get to make those kinds of decisions. Now, I have the upper hand again. You don’t get to make those decisions. See how that works?”

Daryl scoffed and wiped his arm across his bloodied nose.

“This is the part where you give Dan his knife back, so I don’t blow your lady’s brains all over the place.”

“Nah. You won’t. Her gun’s been jammed for weeks.” Daryl bluffed as he paced side to side, fist still clenched around the handle of the blade.

“Oh, now I find that hard to believe. See, you’re tellin’ me she’s been travelin’ with a man who knows his way around a bow, but you couldn’t un-jam a cheaply made Girsan MT14 .38? I’m not buyin’ that for one god-given minute. My minutes are precious. I don’t waste them on bluffs. You shouldn’t either. It makes things simpler.” Joe lectured.

“Okay.” Daryl nodded. “Dan can have his knife back.”

Stupidly, Dan stepped forward to grab his knife when Daryl held it out for him. In the blink of an eye, Daryl had Dan in his grasp, knife pressed to his throat. Joe took in a deep, expressive breath, and let it out slowly to convey his frustrations.

“I gotta be honest, you’re really pissing me off.” Joe warned.

“The feelin’s mutual.” Daryl retorted, earning a chuckle out of Joe.

“Ya know, I — I actually like you. You’re funny!” Joe admitted. “It’s a real shame we had to meet this way.”

“Wouldn’t’ve been no different any other way.” Daryl insisted. “Either way I kill you.”

“Well, that’s just bad sportsmanship. I expected more out of a bowman.” Joe shot back.

“Never claimed to be a good sport.” Daryl rasped.

“No. No, I guess you’re right.” Joe sighed. “So, then. What’s next? Are we gonna stand here all night with our metaphorical dicks in our hands, or are we gonna settle this like men?”

Daryl seemed to actually consider his question for a moment.

“Alright.” Daryl nodded. “Let’s settle it.”

With that, Daryl slit Dan’s throat with ease, blood pouring from the wound as the man gurgled and choked on it. Joe immediately pulled the gun from your cheek and aimed for Daryl, but the shot missed as Daryl pushed Dan into Len and knocked him down. Joe fired again, this time grazing Daryl, but by then Daryl had managed to dive down and tank Len back into him, serving as a new human shield.

“Dick move, asshole!” Joe bellowed, shoving the gun against our head again. You struggled against him, but you couldn’t break free.

“Just evening out the odds.” Daryl said as he dragged Len back to his feet and kept the knife pressed to his neck.

“Well I guess there’s only one way for this to end.” Joe said.

“Your brains soakin’ in the dirt?” Daryl taunted.

“Somebody’s brains for sure, but not mine.” Joe threatened.

With timing running out and desperation overwhelming him, Daryl finally relented.

“Alright.” Daryl said. “Let her go and I’ll let him go. Take it out on me.”

“Drop the knife first.” Joe demanded. Daryl complied, strategically tossing the knife too far away for Len to grab it before he let Len go. Len stumbled forward, having grown dizzy from the chokehold Daryl kept him in. Joe, keeping one hand on the collar if your shirt to hold you still, used the gun to motion Len to the side.

“Move, Len. It’s time to finish this.” He said.

“Nah. Wasn’t the deal.” Daryl argued.

Both men seemed breathless at this point, worn out from the lengthy struggle to maintain power over the other.

“Well, I like to say I’m a man of my word but… You killed two of my men tonight and for that someone must pay.” Joe informed him.

“Yeah, me.” Daryl insisted.

“Precisely, actually. First, you’re gonna watch her die. Then, I’m gonna kill you. Two for two.” Joe said, as a matter of fact.

“That ain’t gon’ work.” Daryl shook his head.

“Well the way I see it ya ain’t got much of a choice.” Joe chuckled in disbelief.

“There’s always a choice.” You finally chimed in, using Daryl’s distraction as your chance to fight. In a swift motion you turned and bit down on Joe’s neck, clenching your jaw as tightly as you could. Eventually your teeth met, slicing through the flesh. You pulled back, ripping a chunk out of Joe’s neck.

In his shock and agony, he squeeze the trigger, firing a round into Len’s shoulder just before Daryl rushed over to you and tackled Joe to the ground. As Joe gasped and reached for the gushing wound in his neck, Daryl gripped either side of his head and twisted. A loud crack sounded and Joe was lifeless.

Len, in one last effort to avenge his friends, charged after you and Daryl. Daryl grabbed a large stone and smashed it into Len’s skull. Len fell back, and Daryl straddled him, bringing the same heavy Rick down repeatedly until Len no longer resembled a human being.

Daryl slumped in top of the dead man, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he caught up with his breaths.

You sat in shock for a time, eyes glued to Daryl. Eventually, his head turned a little, and you could see his eyes peeking back at you through the mop of sweat drenched hair.

Slowly, he lifted himself up to his feet and stumbled away from the carnage, running a hand through his hair as he came to terms with what he’d had to do. What you both had to do. He looked down at his bloodied knuckles, images of beating a man to death repeating in his psyche.

Suddenly, his eyes broiled with rage as he looked back at you.

“This is what ya want? Huh? Is this the kinda man you wanna love?” He spat.

Shakily, you stood up and stared at him with eyes as round as saucers. The taste of blood still coated the inside of your mouth and dropped down your chin. Bits of flesh were noticeably lodged between your teeth. Your lip quivered as you held your hands out and looked down at your red-soaked clothes. Daryl then realized that he wasn’t the only one who had to be a monster. He wasn’t the only one who had to cope with such heinous actions.

If you could do the things he could do in order to survive, maybe those things weren’t as unforgivable as he’d thought. Maybe it could be forgiven, maybe he wasn’t a lost cause. His eyes softened a little as your eyes welled with tears, a shudder washing over you as you gagged.

You were disgusted with what you’d done. Horrified by the violence and gore. As if the events that led you to the Claimers in the first place weren’t bad enough, you were utterly traumatized.

He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, hoping to ground you as his rage and terror simmered down.

“I — I” You struggled to speak, short quick breaths quickly evolving into a panic attack.

“You had to.” He assured you. You tried to nod, frantic and uncoordinated as the discomfort and sensory overload set in. You could taste blood and flesh, your clothes were sticky, everything smelled like death. Rapidly, you began slapping your hands against your body and attempted to wipe away all the gore. Firmly, yet still ever so gentle, Daryl’s hands wrapped around your wrists to hold you still. “Breathe.” He urged you. “It’s gon’ be alright. We can head back to that pond we passed earlier, get cleaned up.”

“I — I don’t — I don’t — I can’t —“ You began to sob, trembling as you tried to communicate through struggled breaths and hit tears.

“Breathe.” He cooed. “Slow down.”

“I can’t change.” You cried. “I don’t have clothes I can’t change.”

It might have seemed silly, but he understood. You were distressed and covered in the aftermath of something straight out of a horror film. You probably couldn’t think of anything other than getting the disturbing remnants of your attackers off of you.

“We’ll find ya some. Promise.” He assured you. “Let’s just go. I got your bag.”

It took the better half of an hour to calm you down to a point where you could travel. The pond was only a thirty minute hike back the way you came that day. There, you surrendered to the water, sinking into it fully clothed. You sat down and hugged your knees to your chest, distant and out of touch. Daryl couldn’t witness your unraveling for very long before he stepped in.

He kicked off his boots, peeled his dirty socks from his clammy skin, and rolled his jeans up before he waded in the water to meet you. Tenderly, he scooped water in his hands and trickled it over your head, dampening your hair enough to stub the grime away. His hands worked to wipe away the dried blood from your neck and shoulders. When you made no move to pick up where he left off, he went ahead and cleaned your face too.

You were completely catatonic. He pulled you to your feet and wordlessly guided you back to shore. He then removed his shirt and motioned for you to do the same. You finally let your eyes meet his, questioning him with your gaze.

“Your clothes are all wet. Take my shirt.” He insisted. With no energy to argue, you complied. You tossed your shirt to the side and replaced it with his. It hung down just past your butt. “Should cover ya up good. Wanna let your pants dry too? I’ll wash ‘em for ya.”

Grateful for the kindness, you stepped out of your jeans and handed them over.

“Go on an’ get the fire started.” He instructed softly. Thoughtlessly, you did so, while he scrubbed away at your clothes in the pond. When the fire was burning, you settled against a tree and hugged yourself, knees brought to your chest. When Daryl fit your clothes hung up to fry near the fire, he sat beside you and studied you.

Unable to ignore his presence, you looked over at him.

Two broken souls, horrified with the things they’d seen and done, just staring at each other.

Finally, Daryl scooted you forward from the tree trunk and slid in behind you, pulling you back into his bare chest and hugging you tightly. You easily melted into his embrace, allowing the awful pit in your gut to ease up a little.

“Gon’ and get some sleep.” He whispered into your hair. “I’ll watch over ya.”

That was the first night either of you truly let your guard down and allowed each other to care. From then on, there was no need to wonder. He kept you near him as much as he could, and you never strayed too far from him. Small grazes and lingering affectionate gazed slowly evolved into warm embraces and tender touches.

It wasn’t easy after that. Not by a long shot. You were both still learning to love. You were codependent and moody, Daryl was withdrawn and temperamental. The path to happiness for the two of you would be a rougher travel than most. You’d fight, swear you’ll never talk to each other again, and wind up right back by each others side. The cycle would continue for years to come, until you both grew older and calmer and found peace with each other. This would be around the time Daryl finally left his camp in the woods after Rick blew up the bridge. You’d go on to fight every battle with him.

You both would learn how to care for each other, all your little quirks and triggers. You’d be perfect for each other, because you’d both have to evolve in order to make the other happy. You’d finally be able to live and be loved the way you’d always imagined. Daryl would experience true partnership for the first time.

You’d often joke about it. Having to go through so much trauma just to open up to each other. You’d laugh about all the stubborn fights and petty squabbles. None of them would matter in the end, because you’d always have each other.

Might write an alternate version of this one. Unsure. Went in a whole different direction than I planned 😅

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey

[dixons-sunshine]

The Safety | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: Something small to get some practice with writing for Murphy. Also, this is somewhat inspired by @celtic-crossbow’s story. I reread this and realized it was kinda similar to one of your stories lol. I hope you don’t mind! If you do, please tell me and I’ll take this down.

“Good lord, las!”

Murphy’s heart was practically pounding out of his chest. One moment, he was merrily whistling to himself while he listened to you talk about your day, preparing some snacks for the movie the two of you were going to watch that night due to Connor being out at the McGinty’s bar. The next moment, he was practically jumping out of his own skin, the sound of a gun being fired ringing through the air. Murphy had never been as terrified of you quite like he was at that moment.

A sheepish smile spread across your features. You lowered the weapon in your hands, gingerly placing it down on the table in front of you. “Sorry, Murph,” you apologized in embarrassment. “I didn’t realize the safety was off. I just wanted to put it away and then I accidentally fired it.”

Murphy shook his head, his grip he had on the counter loosening after your explanation. “Holy Mary and Joseph. You scared me, my love,” he breathed out, his hand resting over his heart. A small chuckle escaped him, though. He could never be mad at you for an accident. Besides, nobody got hurt. Well, that is, if you didn’t count the cabinet that now had an extremely prominent hole in it. “I thought you were gettin’ rid of me for good. Figured you were finally fed up with my antics.” He grabbed the gun you had placed down on the table and activated the safety before placing it in the cupboard where him and Connor hid their weapons, while also making a mental note to show you how the safety looked when it was turned on during your next shooting practice.

You giggled fondly and shook your head. “Oh, please. I’m so used to your antics at this point. Besides, if I wanted to get rid of you, I’d do it in a more creative way. A gunshot is way too common.”

Murphy arched an eyebrow at that. “Should I be worried?” he asked you, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. When you simply shook your head, he laughed and picked up the snacks, before wrapping an arm around your shoulder to guide you to the living room. “Let’s watch the movie before you kill me, yeah? I wanna spend some time with my beautiful lady before I go.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot, Murphy. But you’re also so amazing.”

“Only for you, my love,” he told you with a smile. “Now, let’s watch this Footloose movie you keep buggerin’ me about.”

“Yeah. That sounds amazing.”

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: there should be a clear hatred for those you fight against, but nobody told y/n and jason about it.

rating: 16+

word count: pasmem 8,2k warnings: sex jokes, heavy make out session, foreplay

a/n: it took me long, but i hope this long ass post makes up for all the time it took me to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one, as i had a lot o fun writing it, and please let me know what you think about it once you're done reading ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt ii

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

… Explosion at the Yacht Basin. The Tiffany is being exhibited. Hurry.

“Just two miles south.” Jason responded. “On my way.”

Speeding up his motorcycle on the busy and wet streets of Gotham, Jason makes a sudden u-turn and heads back in the opposite direction he was once going. Swerving around the cars, trucks and other motorcycles, he hears back honks and curse words be thrown at him, but he doesn’t care. The adrenaline has woken his body. He can even feel the air blowing on his face, even behind the scarlet helmet composing his vigilante outfit.

He had been starving for action all night. His body needed it. Bruce had been an asshole. Roy had been an even worse ass, and there were tons of other people that had been pissing him off all day. All this built up anger made his body beg for some sort of release, he needed this extra energy gone, and punching someone on the face seemed like a very plausible solution to his problem. 

Failing to follow his own mind, telling him to be more careful with his driving after the last incident — that had him not being able to rise from his bed from how much pain his body was in —, he drove so fast his speedometer was hitting it’s other end. He’d definitely get scolded for it at any minute by Barbara through the coms, and not being in the mood for that, he turned his communication off.

As he got closer to the marina, the smoke and fire became more and more evident through the gaps between all the skyscrapers surrounding the road. Pinkish flames flaring up here and there, climbing up the marina’s main building, and releasing smoke fuchsia toned. Upon that sight, Jason’s blood began to boil even hotter than it already was, and if possible, he sped up even more.

Recently, pink flames could only mean one thing in Gotham: Cupid. New psycho in town, got this name from Carmine Falcone himself, for her love to use crossbows and arrows and the hazed state his men were left by the mere sight of her face. Having had the displeasure of meeting her countless times, Jason knew her face pretty well, even if  she kept  it’s bottom mostly covered. And he was glad she did, as he could not stand the smirk planted on her lips as she managed to piss him off to no end.

She was a good thief, fast and stealthy, to the point one could have her in his hands but blink a little too slow and lose her to the shadows. Smart enough to keep herself out of the records for months, misdirecting her actions to random people, until one she had an accidental run into Robin and Spoiler when leaving Gotham’s Museum of Antiquities with a full bag of stolen artifacts and no sound coming from any of the alarms. 

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Scared citizens still ran out of the building when he got there, coughing and barely being able to breath due to the exposure to the toxic smoke. Leaving them in the care of the firefighters that had arrived a bit sooner than he did, he darted inside. Knowing pretty well how his opponent worked at this point in time, he got to the room where he was certain he'd find her.

Displays of very expensive jewelry filled the otherwise empty room. It was dark, but the few lights that came in from the glass ceiling — from the moon, the street lamps and the fire burning outside — hit the jewels and the stones, who in turn reflected them beautifully making an almost perfect show of lights that could make many nightclub owners out there feel pretty jealous of the image they could never replicate. Almost perfect because right where he stood he could see the central piece of the exhibit was missing, the big yellow diamond out of sight.

No alarm sounds, no security system activated.

“Looking for this?” asked a voice from behind him, soft, sultry and mysterious. What wasn’t soft, though, was the clicking sound of a pistol unlocking and being settled at the nape of his neck. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot. I like you too much to hurt you, Red. And also, I don’t want to ruin your face before I get the chance to see it with my own eyes.” 

“Give back the diamond, Cupid” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Oh, they have so many here, they won’t notice I only took one.”

With a swift movement, Jason threw his arm back with force and locked Cupid’s arm under his own, making her drop the gun somewhere far he could only see through the side of his eyes. Now, facing the villain, he kept her arm tightly wrapped around his, somewhat careful to not hurt it while keeping  control of the situation.

“I thought guns weren’t your thing.” he said, tightening his hold and making her groan.

“I’m keen on exploring new kinks” she replied. “C’mon, Red! We don’t need this. We’re friends, I can send you a gift card once I sell this to the black market” and with an even quicker movement, Cupid released her arm from Red Hood’s grip and spun around, kicking at his face. Jason dodged it and threw a punch at her that she also skipped, though only for mere inches.

Hitting the back of his knee with another kick, the villain managed to make the hooded hero fall to his knees for a brief moment,  giving her an opportunity to run out of the room. Jason darted after her straight away, following her through the corridors and up the stairs, then reaching the glass ceiling of the exhibit. She ran with ease on top of the steel bars holding the glass up, opening a gap between the two of them as Jason, much larger and heavier,  had more difficulty in doing the same.

Soon, they exchanged the glass ceiling for a concrete roof when they got on top of the neighboring room. Chasing her dark suited body, he managed to shorten their distance a little when she jumped a small gap and fell onto another building, him not taking long and getting there as well. It was the main structure on fire, the heat from below reaching his forearms, the only part of his body left exposed, unprotected by his jacket.

“Into fire play, Cupid?”

“Ha!” she laughed at his joke, throwing her head back mid run. “Works as a great distraction.” she shrugged.

She was certainly faster than him, reaching the end of that building much sooner, lowering down and grabbing a bag that must have been left there beforehand. Out of it, she took her pistol sized crossbow and turned to him. Not wanting to get shot, Jason zigzagged his way to  her, trying to run as  fast as he could. 

After the sound of the weapon activating, an arrow flew right by his shoulder, cutting a string on his leather jacket. Strike one, thought the vigilante. Nobody does that to his jacket. 

This time aiming the gun at the higher building, she shot it and the arrow hooked on the stair house wall. Finally reaching the end of his run and almost at arm’s range with the thief, he jumped in her direction, trying to catch her mid flight, but only just touching the sole of her boots. She was up in the air, flying to the other building, and landed on it with gracious ease, as a pretty bird landed on someone’s finger.

“Pray to catch me, Red” she taunted him once she settled on the other side of the tall gap.

Groaning in frustration, he threw off his jacket, incredibly hot to the touch from being near the fire, and feeling a sting of pain hit his shoulder as he noticed a bleeding wound adrenaline didn’t allow him to see earlier in the same spot his sleeve had been laying on.

“Oh, Red.” she screamed at him, attracting his attention. “I swear you couldn’t turn me on more than you already did, but wow!” sliding her back down the wall of the stair house, she sat on the floor, her legs slightly spread in his direction.

“Shut up!” he screamed back, all his build up frustration sounding through it.

“Oooh come make me…” she moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her glistening neck. Anger blew through his nose, and standing on the edge of the roof, Jason took his grappling gun from his utility belt and aimed it at top of where her arrow still stood. Being soared into the air, he was mere inches from reaching the parapet when he felt his body lose all weight and descend to the floor. His heart fell just as hard, as he noticed the cut wire that once held him up slide right past his face.

However, when he thought the floor was his only destination at that point, strong arms held onto his own, keeping him from falling. 

“Thought I was gonna let you die in front of me?” questioned that same sultry voice.

“You fucking cut the wire! What did you want me to think?” he replied, grinding his teeth.

“I removed your hook from the wall” she corrected, matter of factly. “And I did it so we could have a little fun. It was getting boring up here. All alone”

The seductive way she finished her sentence made Jason’s voice put up and look directly  at her face. Her lowered eyebrows and the pout she had on her bottom lip — plumb, red and glossy ones — made his stomach turn. Strike two, I hate pouty lips.

Using his free arm to grab onto the railing, he forced his body up with her assistance. He put one of his legs over the parapet and managed to finally set his feet on the ground. He shouldn’t have been affected by what happened. He was used to heights, he knew he could shoot his grappling gun again, he knew nothing would happen. Yet, it did affect me. 

His heart was beating fast, his breath caught in his throat. Laying his hand on his tights, he tried to steady his it, to relax his shoulders, and ease his body back to normal. For a brief moment, he imagined himself falling into the fire, the image of being consumed by it scaring him way too much.

“Here, big boy. Take a seat” Cupid forced him on his butt and made him rest his head on the railing. “Jesus, you’re not into rope play? Noted.”

Clicking her tongue, she lowered herself to his level and placed one hand on his knee.

“Really… I want to kill you.” he shook his head, removing his hands from under hers.

“Thought your killing days were over, Red.” she stated, hands going to her waist. “Sadly, it’s not gonna be tonight you get to realize your dream.” 

Standing up and wasting no time, Cupid grabbed her crossbow, unloaded it and hit it against the back of his ear — or where she assumed it rested inside the helmet. The clicking of metal into metal echoed in his ears, making him lose his senses for a bit. 

It seemed like it wouldn’t stop, the sound reverberating under the helmet. He tried to stand up, but his balance was poor, nearly making him fall once again. Holding his head, he tried to stop the sound, but it was useless. Taking off the helmet was a no no, even if the clear best solution to his pain.

Deciding that loosening it might make the situation better, he pressed the button that would free his skull, but he did not remove the helmet from it’s place. Not long after, the agonizing noise came to a halt, his sight stopped spinning, and he finally could stand up just fine.

But Cupid was gone. Lost to the night, and not a single sign she was even up there with him at some point could be spotted around.

If he hadn’t accumulated frustration enough all night until this point, he was sure that now he had reached maximum storage. Punching the wall, he let go of some of it, but certainly not enough.

Three nights ago, Jason let Cupid escape. Three nights ago, Jason got scolded by Bruce for letting the Tiffany diamond go missing. Three nights ago, he could only think of one thing, and that thing has stayed in his mind ever since.

Tonight though, he would finally put an end to his mental torture.

The heavy sound of rain soon faded as he entered the batcave’s tunnel system, being then exchanged by the echoing sound of his engine against the hollow corridors. The darkness and the cold of that place once made him extremely uncomfortable, but after so long visiting those places, he felt embraced by it, and the solitude, the feeling of leaving the whole world behind, turning it off of his head,  made him feel at home.

Underground, he found the metro trails of Gotham’s subway system. This first one he spotted was from an old abandoned line, a new one had been set to finish its construction by the late 2000s, but that clearly did not reach that goal, now resting here, forgotten. 

Driving through the empty tunnels, following the directions his computer board had given him, and reaching the marked spot on his screen, he made his motorcycle come to a stop, turning it off, getting down from it and making the rest of his way on foot.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he was warned by Oracle of an explosion caught by the radar. The smell of smoke was present during his ride, but there was no sight  of fire. Leaving his headlights on, it helped him find his footing around the area, where he could barely see the tubes and wires drawing parallel lines on the concrete walls, nor the weird engravings he had no idea who — and how — had put them  there. Standing still, he quieted his breathing and took some time to listen. 

The howling of the wind, the timed buzzing of electricity running through the cables and the distant sound of trains following their course filled Jason’s ear, but something else caught his attention. It was the slight sound of rocks moving to his left that made him turn around and face exactly who he wanted to see.

At the blink of an eye, he had her under his gun’s aim.

“Certainly, this terrain doesn’t favor me at all, does it Red?” she taunted, hands held up in the air like a culprit caught by the police. This time, she had her regular all black attire on, but had no mask and wore a hooded  jacket, much like his own. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Where’s the fucking diamond?”

“Sold to the black market. Is this all you can talk about?”

She was quick. She had to be, a diamond as expensive as the Tiffany wouldn’t last long in her hands if word got around she still had it for this long. He knew she had to have a buyer even before stealing it. Yet, Jason innocently thought he could have gotten to her before she managed to trade it.

“Didn’t know you were working for Cobblepot…” he questioned. He had been sent here because they knew Penguin was out and about, planning something for some time, but that they weren’t sure on what it was. Finding her here meant she was somewhat involved in his business, and he didn’t know why and how that was made possible.

“Working with Cobblepot” she cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And not by choice.”

“For what then? Doesn’t seem to me like he’s the best match for your skill set.” he commented, interested in knowing why this pairing was ever formed. Penguin was a crime boss who would steal everything and anything that could get him richer, and he had worked with some of the best along the years, although not the best partner they had ever had. Yet working alongside a Cupid seemed especially strange this time, as she had only been on their records for a couple months, and Penguin isn’t much keen on working alongside new flesh. And also, from the little bit he knew about her, she preferred working alone.

“For I have no other choice.” she answered, and he could have sworn her voice had a little crack somewhere between those words. “I guess I should’ve picked a buyer more carefully. Next time I try to sell some stolen goods I’ll have that in mind.” she threw her shoulders back and continued. “Beginners curse. I’ll learn things through time and find the right people who I can trust. I did find you after all, right Daddy?”

Say what?!  she caught him off guard. What did she just fucking call me?

“I’m not your fucking Da…” lowering his gun, grunting, he stoped himself from saying the last word.

“Oh? Why can’t you say it?” she mused, excited by his excitation from saying the word. “Say it!”

“Stop.”

“Say it, Red.” she challenged.

“No!” he screamed back, while she continued to taunt him. At a distance, his ears heard the succinct sound of a train coming in their direction and he started to notice the peebles jumping up on the ground. He also noticed Cupid standing right at the middle of the railing tracks. “Cupid, get out of there.”

He tried to plead, but she still happily sang to him to repeat the D word. 

“The train is coming! Do you want to die” he got closer, but nothing. She didn’t even flinch at the words train and coming being thrown at her.

“Y/n, move!” he screamed.

“Oh, you know my name?” her eyes widened as she seemed to have grown more excited at the thought he knew her identity. “Only fair you give me yours now.” 

Crossing her arms on her chest like a little child would do to its parents, she continued to ignore Red Hood’s pleas as the train announced itself to them by shining it’s lights in their direction.

“C’mon” he grunted, but she still didn’t move.

“Tell me your name” she sang. 

“Damn it, it’s Jason. Now fucking move.” He was desperate at this point, as she made no indications she was moving out of the way. Fearful, he started walking in her direction.

“Now, say dad-dy…”

“FUCK!” he screamed and rushed his steps. Getting to her, he jumped into the tracks and held her by the arms, dragging her alongside him out of the railway and onto the opposite wall, fast enough to have the train pass behind them and over the spot she was standing on a second later..

“Why didn’t you fucking get out?” he asked, completely exasperated, pushing her away from his hold.

“You wouldn’t let me die would you?” she pouted at him once more, aggravating his nerves and making him moan in frustration. Why is she so fucking difficult?

“I would kill you if I could.” he stated, getting closer to her face.

“What's holding you back? Papa bats wouldn’t let you?” 

Clenching his wrists, trying his best to not throw a punch at her yet and doing his best to hold his anger, he answers through gritted teeth. “I’m past that”

“A mature man”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying”

“It’s a talent I’ve curated through the years.” she stated, proud of herself for being an irritating little shit.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he questioned, remembering his job and the orders he had received earlier.

“Ah…” she looked up, as if trying to remember herself. “Distracting you.”

“Huh?”

“Penguin is planning something tonight and told me to take you out of his way.” He didn’t notice she was this close, but her hands were not at his collar. She fixed something in his chest he failed to see a problem with, her hands sliding up and down his chest. 

Shit, Jason thought. He had to get back. 

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hands from his jacket and threw them far away from him. Turning around, he was dead set into returning to the surface. “Oracle, this was a distraction. Penguin is…”

“...Robbing the entire exhibit  at the Yacht Club.  Yeah, we figured that out. Where were you? Everyone is heading there now.”

“I’m on my way too.” he cut the conversation short, running to his motorcycle.

“Hey, Jay?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice, still walking to his vehicle and getting on top of it. “Could you give me a ride?”

“You gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself. Looking back at her, arms on her side and big eyes innocencly staring at him, he really wondered if she was being serious or not. What was stopping him from giving her a ride and locking her up afterwards? In fact, that seemed like a very good idea to him. Having her right there, sitting behind him and holding his body, he could be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere…

“My my, you’re actually considering it?” she smirked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should go, Red. The sooner you trap Penguin, the sooner I’ll be free.”

And turning her back to him, she disappeared into the darkness once again. This time, he made his way into the shadows right after.

By the time they all had got to the exhibit, the jewels were already gone. 

Penguin’s meticulously crafted plan was a success. He had each and every member of the family busy with different affairs, seemingly unrelated, and within large enough distances to the Yacht Basin, that if anyone was seen moving in its direction, they would have enough time to clear the area before they got there. And everything went as planned. 

They all wondered, how could they have been tricked like that? So under their noses, so obvious looking on the outside. Yet, they were played like little children.

“We are trying to keep this out of the news until we understand how it all happened. The National Museum won’t be happy with this.”

“We’re working on getting as much information as possible, Commissioner. Penguin can’t have gone too far, this fast.” Batman stated. “These jewels are still in Gotham, and we’ll find them.”

“Good. Otherwise the mayor is gonna want both our necks hanging by morning.” Commissioner Gordon replied, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and fishing for a cigar he knew he had hid somewhere inside his coat’s pocket.

Hearing their conversion from a few feet away, Jason and Dick watched as the two of them said their goodbyes, and Bruce, in his mighty black cape and cowl,  made his way towards the two standing in the corner.

“Are you sure the jewels are still in the city?” Dick questioned, a subtle hint of doubt hidden in his voice, but not daring yet to completely cut this theory out of the question.

“No planes or ships were spotted on the radars. Fleeing the city with millions in gold and jewelry is not going to be easy after the police closed all road exits.” looking back at the Commissioner for a moment, he continued. “Barbara responded that all cameras at the Yacht club were conveniently turned off earlier. But she got a hold of the street vigilance records and caught a truck with suspicious actions coming and going down the street that leads here.”

Walking between Dick and Jason, he ignored their questioning looks and continued.

“I’m taking the batmobile back to the cave. Gather more information on the truck’s route and possible destinations. I need you two on the streets, be my eyes and ears. If anything happens, you need to call me. Immediately” he demanded, blending with the shadows and making his way out of this place, leaving the two brothers all alone.

“I can’t believe Harley was with Penguin on this one.” he heard Dick start. “I was so sure she was trying to break the Joker out of Arkham again. I only realized something was wrong when she was taking too long to take some action .”

His brother’s little adventure with Harley Quinn was at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in at the moment. While he continued to ramble  about it, his mind was constantly drawn back to the tunnels and to her.

The way she could get under his skin so easily was something he couldn’t figure out how and why happened. There was only one other person who could do it as easily, but the Joker had killed him in the past, making the reason for his hatred for the Clown Prince of Gotham completely reasonable. On the other hand, he had only known Cupid for some time, met her less than his finger could count, and she really had not done anything more than antagonize him and actually save his life once.

And also, she was kinda hot. It irked him tremendously to even have thoughts  about this, but he had to be honest with himself and admit — to him only, and nobody else — that he did have a small, very slight, very little, thing for Y/n. But that was all physical, he only thought she was insanely attractive. She could work her body and her words, clearly, and he was just stupidly  weak to have fallen for charm.

“What did he do to keep you away?” Dick asked, having Jason’s attention back to him.

Jason considered if he really should tell his brother or not of what kept him away for so long. He had joked before about how much he seemed to find her out during patrol, and how she often got the best of him, leaving him empty handed. When they found out her real identity, Dick caught a glimpse at how Jason stared at her pictures a lot longer than he usually would. 

Coming to a conclusion, he answered without shame. “Cupid.”

Just by hearing her name, Dick’s smile spread on his face, although he’d keep trying to hold it back, his mind getting funny ideas of what the two of them were doing down in the underground.

“It seems like you’ve been finding each other quite a lot recently,” he stated.

“Uh-huh” Jason hummed, agreeing with him but limiting himself to a short and final answer, knowing pretty well where this conversation would go if he stood around for too long. Ignoring anything else Dick had to tell him, he mounted his bike and drove away to work on finding the jewelry truck.

Hours later, when the sun was getting close to coming out of hiding, Jason stood under a railroad bridge, quietly watching the rain fall harshly down the sky and form large puddles on the asphalt. He had been riding his motorcycle all night, looking for that truck or any other indication of Penguin’s work. He drove and drove, but got nothing.

Now, standing there, he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He awaited something. Something to happen to bring energy back into his night. Something to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts that had been torturing him all that time.

The rain hitting the metal structure over his head was soothing, and did not help his attempts to not fall asleep. Sometimes, a vehicle would pass by his spot and jolt him awake, or water accumulated somewhere would fall down all at once, making a huge noise out of nowhere. Other times, he’d hear mice or the sounds of footsteps coming up top, but would see nobody, animal or human, out there.  Worst of all was when trains would pass by the bridge and make everything in a two mile radius to shake.

Tired mind meant thinking of things he wouldn’t want to think about when his mind was properly awake. He closed his eyes and could hear the sultry sound of her voice, or smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He needed to see her again. He needed to let off some steam, all that stored frustration. He needed to see her and make sure she had forgotten about his name. Remembering he did that, he threw his head back and released a heavy sight. It was stupid to have said it, and he didn’t know why he kept doing stupid shit whenever she was around. 

Feeling safe in the loneliness, he took off his helmet and got some much needed fresh air. He leaned forward and laid his head down on his motorcycle’s panel, ready for a nap. Bruce wouldn’t notice. Penguin must have already left the city somehow and this whole night of waiting was for absolutely nothing.

Losing to tiredness, he began to dream of meeting Y/n and talking to her again.  But the dream wasn’t long, because when he was getting to the good part, something made him jump out of his sleep.

“Is the night too much for the incredible Red Hood?” asked a voice he did not recognize and who he could not see, hiding from the lights, but who he felt came from right behind him. The voice was followed by the sound of two, or was it three, sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Or did that arrowed cunt give you the kiss of death too?” joked another voice, clearly familiar with the first one. Jason still could not see them yet, but knew very well where they stood.

“Are you guys scared to come out of the dark?” he taunted them. “It’s easy to tell me shit when I can’t see who I’m supposed to be fighting with.”

“Isn’t this guy is fucking cocky, Dan?” the second voice commented.

“How many of your friends have left with all working limbs after finding me during a night at their job?” Jason inquired, smirking at the men in the darkness, proud of his high rate of beat down assholes.

“One as many punches I’ll be gifting your face tonight.” one of them replied.

“Then come and get me.” he challenged, arms open in a call for battle. 

Upon his call, two tall men left their place in the shadows and ran in his direction. One of them was skinny, and held what Jason identified as a knife in his hands. The other, smaller and a bit heavier, had something shining between the base of his fingers. Standing up from his bike, he cracked his neck, his arms and his fingers, waiting for the action to finally reach him and he slowly paced towards the two guys. Action was on again, baby.

The fact that he was outnumbered did not bother Jason in the slightest, as he defended himself with ease. The other two, although pretty confident when they ran towards him thinking they could give him some bruises, soon found out that defeating the Red Hood was no easy task.  Their confidence was rapidly gone. 

He managed to divide them. Turning to fight the first one, he grabbed him by his collar, threw him at a metal pillar, causing an echoing sound to reverberate around them, and the man to fall hard on the ground, grunting on the floor and touching his own his to check if they were okay. Now, changing his attention to the other man, he couldn’t find him at first glance, but saw this one trying to sneak around his back and hit him on the head with a large pipe he had found somewhere. Being a smarter fighter, Jason followed him by the noise he was making by breathing, walking and simply existing in around him. Jason knew exactly where he was and avoided the hit. Then, he grabbed the man’s hand and spun his arm around till it made a loud cracking sound and the guy made an even louder and painful scream.

“How many punches did you say you’d give me again?” Jason shrugged. Not a single drop of sweat in his body.

The moaning and groaning of the two guys on the floor were like a symphony to his ears, the perfect credit song for one of his favorite action sequences. Wanting to leave, he looked for his helmet as he didn’t see it where he had left it above his bike. Not on the floor either, and also not rolling to the street.

“Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday”

The words came out of a third voice, perhaps the third pair of steps he had heard along the men’s. But different from the two idiots on the floor, this one definitely activated his fight or flight instincts.

“Solomon Grundy, born on a monday.” The big shadow of the creature turned into flesh and bone, red helmet in hands. Breaking the item as if he was breaking glass, the angry monster threw pieces on the floor, stepped on them with his bare feet and with heavy steps made his way to the Red Hood. “Solomon Grundy, born on a monday”

“Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as the zombie-like walked closer. “Long time no see, buddy.”

As if disgusted by the nickname, Grundy darted towards Jason, who then ran towards the street in hopes to get more space to fight the big guy. He also hoped the wet asphalt could somehow aid him  in bringing down the creature. He deviated several punches, while his own hit the spot a couple of times, but apparently didn’t cause his enemy much pain. Kicking the back of his knees, he made Grundy lose some balance and fall to his knees, giving Jason enough time to think of a plan.

Looking back at his bike, still where he was sitting under the bridge, he decided that the best plan was making a run for it and trying to escape. He didn’t know what and why had Grundy so mad and out of the sewers tonight, as he rarely left his safe spot, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer to figure that out.

“You work for Penguin too, Grudy?” he jokingly asked, making a run to his motorcycle. “Thought of you as better than that.”

“Solomon Grundy… works for nobody” he answered, punching the ground with both of his hands right at the place where Jason had just been standing. Almost out of the street, a car suddenly passed by — for what reason? — and blocked his way, and then another car showed up. Why are all those people driving towards Solomon Grundy? Have they all gone mad?

When he was too worried  about the cars and the stupid people driving them, Jason didn’t notice when Grundy approached him and hit him right in his jaw, making him fly across the street. There on the floor, his head spun and everything went blurry as he tried but could not pull himself up from the ground. Damn it, he needed to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, lord knows how, and stumbling to make his way to where he wanted, he heard the swift swish of projectiles flying by his ears, who were then followed by Grundy’s screams and complaints. Two. Three. Four more things hit him, but somewhat running with a spinning head had Jason’s vision go everywhere but nowhere at the same time. 

As if that wasn’t enough, suddenly the honking of a car and a pair of headlights were in his face, as he felt the floor shaking from the heavy steps that were also heading his way. Trying to rush, he nearly fell onto the floor yet again, but a loud crash sounded through the whole street and something knocked him down.

His vision was getting darker, and all voices sounded distant, but this one he still could hear clearly.

“Stay with me, Jason. Don’t close your eyes”told him the voice, this time it was soft and sultry. He felt his entire body ache, and his eyes couldn’t stay open even if she begged him. “Hey, Jay.” she called him again, tapping his cheeks with care to try to keep him awake. “Stay with me, please. Stay awake.”  

But it was too late. Soon, everything was black.

.

His head banged with pain. Really, it hurt like crazy. It was not the best sensation to wake up to. His vision still hadn’t settled too, still spinning as he last remembered them. He tried to inspect the room he was in, but he couldn’t identify where he was. He woke up god knows where, but the real question in his mind was in how he got there.

Remembering everything that happened before he blacked out, Jason tried to stand up from the bed he was laid on, noticing his missing shirt and the curatives glued to his chest. He sat at the tip of the cushion, placing his bare feet on the cold floor.

The small room he was in had only the bed he was on and a small table by its side, but it was randomly adorned with small plants, colored glass decorations and a pile of old books at one corner. This didn’t look like neither his or his brother’s home, and it was too small to be anywhere inside the manor. This also did not look like a cell, or a hostage room. It felt too cozy for that.

Gosh, he thought, placing his head on his hands and massaging his temples, I’m knackered.

Forcing his body to comply with his mind, he stood up on his feet, but it immediately felt weak and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Easy, Red” someone rushed beside him, holding his sides to check if he was okay. “You’re still dizzy from all the pain medication I gave. I must admit, I’m not the best doctor you could find.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, confused when he recognized the voice.

“Baby, you were knocked out and saved by Grundy last night. If he didn’t jump after you, you’d have been smashed by that car, like a smashed potato!Jason.” Y/n explained as her face was becoming clear in his eyes. “And I have to be honest here, after finally seeing your face after this long, I can tell you it’d have been a real waste if all of that had happened.”

When this fell to his ears, his hands shot up to his face, noticing his domino mask gone. 

“Where am I?” he asked, still groggy.

“At my place.” 

“You had the courage to take me to your home?” he questioned, incredulous. Putting her index finger on her lips, she requested. 

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Wh-what…”

“Relax. Just let me check your bruises now that you’re up.” she cut him, grabbing a pastel yellow bag from the table next to the bed, pushing his arms away and settling herself on his lap.

Not believing what was happening, Jason could only stare at her wide eyed as she removed his hair away from his forehead, and cleaned the cuts on his face with a cotton ball. 

She was uncomfortably close. Dangerously close to him, and he didn’t know how to react. Her face was mere inches from his, and, as she continued to clean his bruises, he could feel her hot breath hitting his face. He had to blink once, or twice, or thrice, to try to recollect himself and to try and push her away from his lap, but she hooked her lean legs tightly around his waist, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t touch me.” he complained, trying to keep his face away from her touch by awkwardly throwing it back.

“How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can’t touch you?” she rolled her eyes, but he could see a smile gracing her face. Her arms on her hips, she finally had a chance to get a proper look at what she was wearing. She had on a gray tank top and jean shorts that barely covered her legs and left her beautiful tights on display for him to see… and touch, as he placed his hand on top of them “involuntarily”.

“Then get off me” he replied through his gritted teeth.

Pissed off, she straightened her back and looked right into his eyes. Jason suddenly felt small as she proceeded to challenge him. 

“Make me.” 

And when she didn’t get a response from him, nor a shake of his head or a noise from his throat, she smirked back at him, going back to tending to his wounds.

Jason stood there, quietly and still, watching as she cared for his wounds with utmost concentration. When she was done cleaning his face and chest, after carefully removing the curatives that had been protecting his scratches there, she fished for some medicine to apply on him. She had put everything on the bed, all at an arm's distance so she wouldn’t need to leave his lap to grab anything until she was done.

He winced when she applied an antibiotic cream on his cuts and he felt the itching starting, but she scolded him to get himself together and let her finish with the rest. When he still showed agony on his face, she blew at the spots and softened his pain.

There, on top of him, she was constantly moving. He could feel her crotch sliding against his own, making his mind go places where it shouldn’t be going right now. His hands started sweating, and he tried to clean them on his pants, before placing them again on her legs. 

“A-hem” he fake coughted, trying to get her attention. She simply shushed him.

Moving on top of him once again, slightly rising herself from his lap and standing with her knees on the bed, her boobs were then leveled with his eyes. He tried to look away, out of respect, after all he was still raised to be a gentleman, but he lost battle to his worst side, it getting control of him as he threw some glances at her cleavage. 

Still on her knees, she lost a bit of balance, almost falling on her back if Jason’s strong hands weren’t at her back ready to steady her back into his lap. A soft thanks left her lips, something that shouldn’t have made his mind go mad, but lord help him, he was going insane.

He was entranced by her. By her beauty, by her kind touch. By her hot breath and the soft smell of coconut shampoo emanating from her hair. He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration, sometimes switching habits and sucking her cheeks in as she focused on the task at hand. 

“Done.” she announced, smiling at him briefly before taking the medicine bag and organizing the bottles, sprays, tubes and bandages inside.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t look away. And he also couldn’t let her go too far, growing needy of her touch and presence. Growing addicted to finally having her this close. His hands pressed tighter around her waist and tights, impeding her from moving any further.

“You can let me go now, Jason.” And the way she pronounced his name. Oh, the way she pronounced his name. It sounded as if an angel sang him the prettiest of lullabies, or as if the devil seductively listed him all of the most delicious things the world had to give. Her plump lips moved and he got hypnotized.

“I want to kiss you.” he stated, without really thinking of what he was doing.

“You’re drunk on the meds.” she joked.

“No” he shook his head, sitting up straight and getting dangerously close to her face. His lips lingering over hers. They stared at each other's eyes like they were both hypnotized by each other. Nah, they were hypnotized. Their eyes were low but never leaving the other, their breaths mixing together.

Placing a hand on her neck, thumb caressing patterns on her skin, Jason tangled his fingers on her hair and pushed her down onto him. Their mouths collided with each other and moved in perfect synchrony, in the wettest of kisses. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but didn’t stay there for long, as she felt the need to have them all over his muscular chest.

His tongue soon begged for entrance, and she allowed him in without any reluctance. 

His hands also roamed her body, desperate to touch her every inch. He drew lines up and down her back, lifting her top all the way to where it reached her bra. He played with its hook as their mouths still danced in the most intense kiss, and unlocked it before she even noticed. He was desperate to take her shirt off, but he didn’t break the kiss. However, hard things had to be done to achieve greatness. 

Finally breaking the kiss, he took her shirt off over her head and tried to do the same with her unhooked bra, but her arms locked on her side stopped him from doing it. Before he had a chance to complain, she closed the gap between their lips again, restarting the fire they had briefly put off.

They didn’t let go of each other. There was no need for space, or air. They were consumed by the other taste, the smell, the touch. Starved, actually. Jason was starved. He didn’t know he craved her this bad until he had her in his arms, until her hands roamed all over his body and her hips gridded against his cock with fast movements. When she broke the kiss for air once more, he pouted his lips and she let out a laugh.

“Easy, boy.” she mocked, but soon threw herself on top of him again, laying him down on the bed, scratching his nude chest with her nails, the pain making his pants feel even tighter. As her hands got lower, they soon got to his waist line, where the tightness was making go crazy, agony climbing up his spine anxiously waiting for his release. She played around with the button of his jeans, teasing his patience, caressing his dick over all that fabric. It felt like torture, just as she liked. She like to torture him so bad, and he always knew it. Her hands were full, his side filling them completely, and they kept working their way up and down, often combining the movements with the tightening of her grasp around it and driving him so close to release without even having his member freed. 

He was so close, gosh, so close. But then she stopped, his eyes instantly opening as he looked after hers, begging her for an explanation. 

“You should rest.” she answered his grunts in complaint, getting off his lap and standing up between his opened legs. He quickly sat up from the bed too, grabbing at the base of her ass, desperately not wanting her to leave him. “I thought you wanted to kill me” she rested her forehead on his, joking at his change of behavior within just a few hours.

“I’m way past my killing days” he said, still out of breath.

She looked him in the eyes once more, staring deep into them. They didn’t hold longing anymore, there was no desire. Instead, her look was soft, warming. He felt safe under it, all his fire suddenly, but not completely, gone. Hooking her bra, she then reached for her shirt he had thrown right behind his back when they were still attached by their mouths. Having to lower herself a little bit to grab it, she provocatively placed her chest right down his nose. Still pumped with desire, Jason kissed the exposed part of her breast, feeling their warmth envelop his wet lips.

“When the effects of the meds are gone” she started, holding his head up by his chin, making him look to her eyes once more. “We can decide if we want to keep playing or not.”

Taking his hands away from her legs, she moved away from him without breaking eye contact. She grabbed a bottle out of the table, taking out of it a small pill. Putting it between her teeth, she walked to Jason, him immediately holding the base of her ass again, and lowered her head so their lips touched one more time. She allowed the pill to drop into his mouth, and as she broke the kiss, he swallowed it alongside all this frustration he could not seem to let off. 

Walking out, she left him alone. 

He dropped on the bed. Head going back to just moments ago, when she was on top of him and he felt… deep. He felt… he felt his consciousness leave his body. He felt his lids falling, too heavy for him to keep open. He felt it all change, from color to black, once again.

“So, you’re alive?” Dick questioned as Jason stood up for his sofa, protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

Jason was confused. So, was that all a dream?

.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [4]

Part Four | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1K

Author’s Note: Had a spurt of creative energy after work today and wrote this bad boy. I wanted to post it before I head off to bed. It isn't edited, might get around to that tomorrow. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

A cigarette hangs from Daryl’s lips as he watches you attempt to start a fire. He sits at a table set up beside Dale’s RV, his legs kicked up on an extra folding chair. His fingers absentmindedly peel at the worn edge of his Marlboro Reds container. You mutter another string of expletives before chucking a piece of firewood into the surrounding woods. This causes Daryl to let out a short chuckle, which earns a glare from you.

The youngest Dixon has made a point of being more present around the camp since his almost altercation with Shane -- much to your boyfriend’s dismay. For the last several days, Daryl has made it his mission to keep a careful eye on you -- lingering wherever you happen to be and watching over you, like a loyal guard dog. Despite that, Daryl has also tried his best to not be overbearing. And if you ever told him to back off, he’d obey your wishes. You don’t mind though. Unlike Shane, Daryl’s presence isn't overwhelming and dominant. Daryl simply observes from the background -- he makes you feel safe. 

“You’re welcome to help at any point, Dixon.”

Daryl puts out his cigarette on the heel of his boot before getting up from the table. He slings his crossbow around his torso and moves toward you. You sit back on your heels as Daryl approaches, wiping your hands off on your jeans. He drops down beside you and assesses your work.

“You almost got it. Jus’ need more tinder -- without it the kindling won’t light.”

You watch as Daryl grabs a handful of leaves from the ground and places it under the bunch of twigs you’d collected. He offers you a box of matches from his back pocket.

“Now give ‘er a try.”

You light a match and ignite the tinder. Unlike, your previous attempts, the kindling begins to light as well, creating a small fire. A smile spreads across your face and Daryl has to fight one off himself as he watches you giddily add more tinder to the growing fire. Before you can add any of the larger logs, Daryl leans down and gently blows on the fire. He gives you a nod when he’s content and you add a couple of larger logs. You both sit back against a fallen log, watching the flames. Daryl reaches into his pocket and pulls out his carton of Marlboros. He slips a cigarette between his lips before extending the carton out to you.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

Daryl scoffs at your question as he lights his cigarette. He takes a drag and meets your gaze. You’re smiling at him, but your tone was surprisingly serious. He wonders if your concern for his well-being is sincere. You don’t know him. Not really. Then again, he doesn’t know you either, but here he is -- watching over you. He takes another drag of his cigarette before responding.

“Seems like everything’ll kill me these days.”

You chuckle softly, shrugging your shoulders at his comment. 

“I can’t argue with that.”

You reach your hand out to Daryl, motioning toward the carton. He raises a brow but hands you a cigarette. Daryl watches you light it and take a drag. You tilt your head, glancing up at him with the cigarette hanging gracefully from your lips. He shouldn’t find it attractive. He shouldn’t be looking at you. As much as he dislikes it, you’re Shane’s girl. 

But god damn.  

He always knew the cowboy killers would take him out one day -- just not like this. 

“You’re a bad influence, Dixon.”

Daryl awkwardly laughs and softly shakes his head, trying to remove the thoughts from his head. You don’t know how right you are. 

Before he does something he regrets, he focuses his attention on the fire in front of him and the cigarette in his hand. You don’t attempt to start another conversation. The two of you sit beside the fire, finishing your smokes as the sun sets behind the trees. It’s peaceful. He usually prefers to spend his time alone; however, this isn't so bad. 

Eventually, the peace is disrupted by Shane’s heavy footsteps. He doesn’t say a word as he passes by the fire, but you feel his eyes on you the entire time. You take a final drag of your cigarette, before turning to Daryl.

“I gotta…”

You trail off, pointing in the direction that Shane had just stomped off towards. Daryl gives you a nod, letting you leave without another word. You’re not going to lie, you’d rather sit here with Daryl than de-escalate your jealous boyfriend; however, you know talking to Shane is the right thing to do. Things have been tense since he saw you with Daryl several days ago and you’re doing everything possible to fix the situation. 

As you open your tent and take in your surroundings. Shane is sitting on the edge of your shared cot, facing away from you. He glances back at you before pulling on a clean t-shirt. You kneel behind him on the cot and wrap your arms around his waist. Shane lets out a deep sigh at the contact.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’ve been busy.”

You nod hum into his shoulder and then stay quiet. You sit in silence for several moments, giving him an opportunity to talk about his day; however, he doesn’t say a word.

“Shane?”

“I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near him.”

You let go of his waist, sitting back further away from him on the cot.

“I know. It’s just…”

Before you can finish, Shane turns to face you. His eyes are ice cold. His jaw clenches as he looks at you. It makes you stop in your tracks. You’re starting to think that maybe you can’t fix this, but you’re still going to try. 

“I’m sorry.”

Shane holds your gaze for a few more seconds before wordlessly laying down on the cot, with his back facing you. You let out a soft sigh and settle down next to him. And as you lay there, you begin to drift off wishing that you never got up from the fire.

Taglist: @darylsl0ver@minervadashwood@hotgirlsshareaccounts@taterbbbug@dreamtofus@youcantstandit@ajlovesdilfs@prettywhenibleed@luvsvnlqt-things@evie-beanie@strnqer@marina-isabella@lissanovak@elissanatok@1tsk1tty@moejoeflow@ceoofdisappointment@jewellthebooknerd@callsignwidow@genderless-ghosty-boi @all-will-be-well-love @tabzthemighty

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Much fun indeed

Funny Sonny x Reader | SMUT 🔞

A summary of what being with the biker has thought you over time Again apologies for the Daryl tags

This is basically a collection of scenes me and @celtic-crossbow thought up over the course of a very chatty evening.

🚬 🚬 🚬

You and your friend walked onto the bikers' property, having asked if it was okay for her to come look at the bikes and meet your boyfriend she was allowed to come over when fhey held their bonfire night.

"So, which one's yours? There's so many tasty looking ones here I almost want one for my own." She leaned in closer at those last words.

You looked around to find him and evenfually spotted him further off and pointed him out.

"Oh? The spiky blonde one? Good choice." She glanced at the men talking and gave you a pat on the back, but you told her no. "No, the one he's talking to. The fuzzy one."

You learned so much in your relationship with him. It was crazy how everyone on the crew let you wat h as they did bike repairs and talk you through the process of it. By now you could even follow a conversation and knew somewhat of what they were doing to the bikes.

But that wasn't all you learned.

You learned that you were a lot less of a prude than you thought.

Sonny loved parading you around and showing gou off to the younger members and new kids that joined. You'd love to walk around in your new leather jacket with nothing undetneath, red and purple bruises all over your chest where Sonny had marked you up. Whenever he caught one of them staring you were pulled onto his lap, the zipper of your jacket being opened even further and Sonny's face would be between your tits, biting and sucking at them.

"Ah, hey!" He had snatched you by the waist and pulled you onto him. The sound of your jacket clear over the crackling of the fire. "Clearly not obvious enough." Sonny mumbled between each new mark. By the time he was done your chest was shiny with drool and adorned with a few new fresh bites.

On longer nights that could easily last till early morning you now always made sure to wear trousers that kept gou warm enough and had an elastic waistband. You had a favorite pair of sweatpants that hugged your ass and thighs oh so well. Well, technically theg were Sonny's favorite pants. You had slowly become a master in keeping quiet. Sonny on drugs got horny, but also too lazy to get up and take you inside for a round or two so he opted to pull you into his lap while he sat cross-legged on the concrete. You knew what he was planning as soon as the started playfully untying the strings and made his hand disappear, letting you know you should pull up your legs so no one would see the outline of his hand working your folds through the crotch of your pants.

His lips would be up against your ear, mumbling any and all disgusting thoughts he had. "See how often you can cum before anyone notices?" You squeezed his thigh in reply, having to keep your mouth shut or you'd only whine. "You're so into this, my gross girl." His whispers turned into sofg bites at your earlobe that made keeping quiet ony harder.

You never liked when people got all gropey and sucking each others' face off in public, but this?

The lazy fingerfucking was your favorite part of long crew nights, and keeping your moans and whines hidden was such a nice challenge. You knew you'd been caught once or twice by the new recruits but they never dared to mention it and looked away quickly. You almost wanted to give info the pleasure and show just how good Sonny's fingers felt pumping into your sopping pussy.

Before you two met you were already someone with a full purse of 'just in case' items, but nowadays a pack of expensive brand moist wipes was part of your daily carry-ons too. The feeling of riding with Sonny and empty your mind was so freeing, but you could never help your mind wandering to what was at the end of your trip. "Takin' you somewhere pretty." He'd always say. As a biker Sonny knew all the best spots around the area with all the best views. Also the best secluded areas to bend you over his bike and take you from behind, far enough away from anyone so he could have you scream and beg until your throat was sore. "Sonnyy--- please lemme cum.." but clearlt he wouldn't until he had his fun. Or he'd have you draped over the tank with your ass on the seat. Legs spread at each side of his with your pants dangling off one ankle and his as well as he rutted into you at a fast pace. "Gods, look at how well it fits. Like my own personal fucktoy.." His hands on your ass to hold your hips in place as he watched himself fuck into you. After god knows how many rounds you'd be in his lap on the seat, walls contracting through your orgasm while he spilled deep inside of you, having pumped you so full already it ran down onto the leather of his bike seat in thick globs.

You blessed the fact you were on birthcontrol, seeing you both loved watching his cum leak from your folds.

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

Random Vincent Sinclair headcannons

- doesn’t wear his mask in the basement, and usually not in his everyday life. It’s not super comfortable and he can’t see/breathe well with it and his brothers don’t give a shit what he looks like, so why wear it out for no reason? Also the basement gets super warm with the fire and melted wax so his mask would start to deform and straight up melt. Maybe he has a mini fridge down there to keep his masks cool and close if he needs them idk

- if he was born later he would’ve been a massive Percy Jackson fan, he seems to have an interest in mythology/mythological monsters so yeah. Percy Jackson. He’d be in cabin 7 or 9.

- probably sleeps in the basement a lot, it’s the only place he feels completely safe and comfortable. He even sleeps there in the summer, when the combined Louisiana heat and the fire/wax makes the basement feel like a damn sauna. Bo has to go check on him every once in a while to make sure he hasn’t died from heat stroke or something.

- speaking of Bo, I don’t see him as being abusive towards Vincent (I can definitely see why some people interpreted their interactions like that but to me if I had just been shot in the chest and arm with a crossbow and I had to go hunt down some random kids before they called the cops I would also not be in the mood for kind words lol). Bo can definitely be a bitch sometimes, but they do genuinely care for each other. Their relationship is part normal sibling closeness and part trauma bond, but they manage.

- doesn’t care much for his hair, just brushes it sometimes. The Sinclairs definitely have one of those 14in1 shampoo-bodywash-spackle type things, and that’s fine by him. He does brush it a lot tho, that’s something he cares about.

- can cook, but not well. The food he cooks is edible but not much else. Bo does more cooking (he’s slightly better, but only slightly). Vincent puts way too little or no salt at all in his food. I don’t know why. He just likes his food bland and tasteless.

- is somewhat interested in medical stuff. Like it was the only thing him and his father could bond over and he was taught some basics, and has continued to learn to make his art better. If Bo or Lester gets injured he’s the one to take care of it (although Bo would rather bleed out or die from an infection than get any help, Lester has to wrestle him down so that Vincent can patch up his wounds)

- idk I just always thought Jonesy was Vincent’s dog, but sort of also the family dog? Like she can run around and hang out with anyone but she’s technically Vincent’s dog?

- grew up listening to classical music and got kinda Pavlov’d into being more creative when listening to it so now that’s basically all he listens to while working. He will politely listen to Bo’s Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails without complaining, but it’s not his type of music.

- does a lot of different art stuff. Wax sculpting is like his main thing and his job (sorta), but the list of creative endeavors he does in his free time is endless. Has a particular affinity for charcoal drawings. Someone should introduce him to digital art, he would be ecstatic.

[daryltwdixon]

The Heart of Us: Chapter 35

The night feels heavy, the cool air outside pressing down as you step out of confinement. The sound of distant voices carries through Alexandria’s streets, people murmuring as they drift toward the meeting at the bonfire. You’re not eager to join them—being the center of their judgment doesn’t rank high on your list tonight. You’d face them soon, but first you needed to head home to clean up. You continue down the street, keeping your steps quiet and deliberate as you navigate the familiar paths. The house feels strangely still when you step inside, the silence unnerving after the tension of the day. You close the door softly, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a slow breath.

You need to shower, to change out of these clothes, to scrub the remnants of this miserable day off your skin. Heading upstairs, you avoid the mirror in the hallway, not wanting to see the look in your own eyes.

The bedroom door is half-closed, the warm glow of a small lamp spilling into the hall. You hesitate for a moment, frowning. The light shouldn’t be on—you’re certain you left it off.

Pushing the door open fully, you stop in your tracks.

Daryl is there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his crossbow leaning against the wall beside him. His head lifts at the sound of the door, his eyes locking on yours. For a moment, neither of you speak, the air between you charged with tension.

“You’re here,” he says, standing quickly. His voice is low, rough, but there’s warmth in it.

You stare at him, not moving from the doorway, the flood of emotions inside you making it impossible to settle on just one. “I thought you were still out,” you say, your tone sharper than you intended.

“I came back soon as I heard,” he replies, his gaze steady as he takes a step toward you. “Didn’t wanna wait till tomorrow.”

His words hang in the air, but you don’t respond. So he’d heard on the walkies. Of course he had. But where was he when it actually mattered? When you were losing control out there, when you felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, judgment burning hotter than the fire in your chest? For a moment, you look at him—really look at him. He’s dirty, his shirt still dusted with the grit of the road, his hair sticking to his forehead. But the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing grounding him, cuts through your frustration for the briefest moment.

“Missed you,” he says, his voice quiet. He makes his way over to you, hand brushing against your arm, and he leans in, his lips on yours in a tentative kiss. For a moment, you feel yourself falter, the familiar warmth of him tugging at something deep in your chest. But then the anger flares, sharp and unrelenting. Guilt claws at your chest, a fresh wound tearing open at the memory of Rick’s lips on yours, the way you’d clung to him like he was the only thing holding you together. You pull away abruptly, the weight of it all slamming into you.

Daryl freezes, his hand falling to his side as he frowns. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What isn’t wrong, Daryl?” you snap, your voice trembling as you step away from him, pinching the bridge of your nose. The guilt twists in your stomach, hot and relentless, mixing with the resentment that’s been building for weeks.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks again, his tone softer now, his hand reaching out like he wants to pull you into a hug.

You twist away before he can touch you, the movement sharp and unyielding. “Don’t,” you say, your voice cracking. “Don’t try to fix this with a hug, Daryl. You’ve been gone, and I—I don’t even know where to start.”

His brows furrow, and for a moment, he just stands there, his hands flexing at his sides. “I ain’t been gone ‘cause I wanted to be,” he mutters, his voice defensive. “I’m out there for us—for this group.”

“For this group?” you repeat, your voice rising. “What about me? What about the fact that every time you leave, it feels like you’re taking a piece of me with you? I thought we were done being apart. It feels like the only person who is even around anymore is—.”

His gaze sharpens, his jaw tightening. “Is this about Rick?” he growls, stepping closer. “What, you been gettin’ cozy with him while I’m gone?”

Your chest tightens, anger surging hot and fast at his words. “Don’t you dare,” you hiss, stepping closer to him, your voice trembling with frustration. “Don’t you dare try to spin this on me, Daryl. Yeah, I’ve been spending time with Rick—because he’s the only one who sees me! Everyone else is afraid of me, afraid of what I’ll do next, but Rick? He gets it. He doesn’t look at me like I’m about to snap. He’s been here when you haven’t.”

Daryl’s expression darkens, his breath coming sharp through his nose. “So that’s it? You run to him ‘cause I’m not here?”

“I am not running to him!” you fire back, your voice breaking. “I felt stuck, I felt empty, Daryl. You weren’t here. You’re never here. And when I found out Pete was hitting Jessie—when I saw what he was doing to her—I lost it. And where were you?”

His eyes flicker with something—guilt, maybe, or anger. “You think I don’t wanna be here?” he snaps. “You think I don’t wanna be the one you turn to? Hell, I’d give anything to stay, but someone’s gotta make sure this place don’t fall apart!”

“I didn’t ask you to save this stupid place!” you yell, stepping closer to him, your chest heaving. “I asked you to stay. I needed you here, with me. But you’re always gone, Daryl, and when you are here, it’s like you’re already halfway out the door.”

The words hit him hard, and he flinches, his hand twitching at his side like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t. “I didn’t think it’d be like this,” he mutters, his voice quieter now. “Thought you’d be safer here. Thought it’d be enough.”

“It’s not enough,” you say, your voice trembling. “Not when you’re gone all the time. Not when you’re too stubborn or blind to see what it’s doing to me.”

The silence between you stretches, heavy and suffocating. His face softens slightly, the anger melting into something raw and vulnerable. “I ain’t good at this,” he murmurs, his voice rough.“I ain’t good at makin’ things right. Feels like all I ever do is wrong by you.”

The words are like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You swallow hard, the anger in your chest shifting into something quieter, softer. “Daryl…” you start, but he shakes his head.

“I know how you feel,” he says, his voice trembling with something you’ve never heard from him before. “’Cause I been there. You used to do this to me. Back before all this, back when you’d just… go. You’d leave, wouldn’t say a damn word, and I wouldn’t know if you’d come back.” He pauses, his throat working as he swallows hard. “Drove me crazy. Wonderin’ if you were okay, if you’d just up and decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.”

Your breath hitches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Daryl—”

“I ain’t sayin’ this to hurt you,” he interrupts, his voice softer now, but no less steady. “I’m sayin’ it ’cause I get it. I know what it’s like to feel left behind. And I know I been doin’ that to you.”

You bite your lip hard, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “It’s not the same,” you whisper, though the conviction in your voice wavers.

“It is,” he counters gently, stepping closer. His hand lifts, brushing against your arm before falling back to his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t… I didn’t think it’d feel like this for ya. Didn’t mean to make ya feel like I didn’t care. ’Cause I do. More’n anything.”

Your throat tightens as you look at him, your voice trembling as you speak. “I just needed you here, Daryl. That’s all I ever needed.”

He nods faintly, his gaze holding yours. “I know,” he says quietly. “And I’ll try. I’ll try harder. I ain’t good at stayin’, but I’m gonna figure it out. For you.”

The words hang between you, raw and unsteady, as the tension in the room begins to ebb. For the first time in weeks, the anger simmering in your chest feels manageable, like it might not drown you after all.

“I’m still here,” you whisper, the words trembling on your lips. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep waiting for you to be.”

He closes the distance between you, his hand brushing against your arm again, this time lingering, solid. “You don’t gotta wait anymore,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here now. And I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You take a shaky breath, letting his words settle, the weight of them grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The anger in your chest softens, melting into something quieter, something fragile but real.

You lean forward, your arms wrapping around his middle, and he stiffens for just a second before he melts into the embrace, his arms coming up to hold you tightly. His grip is firm, desperate almost, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

His cheek rests against your hair as he murmurs, “I’m sorry.” The words are barely audible, but they cut through the quiet like a blade, the rawness of his voice pulling a fresh ache from your chest.

You press your face into his shirt, breathing in the familiar, earthy scent of him—sweat, leather, the road. It steadies you, anchoring you to the moment. His hand moves gently along your back, his touch hesitant, careful, as though he’s still figuring out how to make this right.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, your voice muffled against him.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for something—an answer, a reassurance, maybe just permission to stay close. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheekbone.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says quietly, his voice steadier now. “Might take some time, but we will. I promise.”

You nod, leaning into his touch as the tension in your chest begins to ease. “I missed you,” you admit, the words coming out softer than you intended.

His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile, the kind you’ve always known he reserves just for you. “Missed you too,” he replies, his voice low and rough.

And for now, the weight between you feels lighter, the cracks beginning to mend in the quiet of the room.

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.7

Summary: Everyone thought that the Sophia incident would be the worst of it all but awful events happen one after another

Part.6

•Masterlist•

Sophia’s death really got to everyone and you’ve tried to be extra supportive with Daryl, now that he’s assured you that he wants you around and doesn’t see you as clingy, you’ve both been more vocal with your feelings especially everything that’s been going on with Randall the past few days was stressing everyone out

You were eating dinner with Daryl around your little fire finally being able to relax from the days work and just enjoying the silence that you and Daryl both preferred

You were about to take another bite of your food when you heard a blood curdling scream from the field, you both shot up and got your weapons running to try and help

You saw a walker that Daryl was quick to tackle and kill, you looked at Dale as the others circled, his stomach was ripped open, his inside on full display, you turned and walked a bit away as you threw up hard, the sight you had just seen making you sad and extremely sick, you’ve seen gore but this was different

You cried as you heard the others feel the same emotions as you, then Daryl stepped up and put Dale out of his misery, everyone was distraught but Rick and Shane picked up Dale and brought him over to the graves

Daryl rubbed his hand up and down your back as he guided you back to your tent, you were shaken and you could tell Daryl was upset, you hated that no matter what you did you couldn’t keep everyone safe even when you thought everything was secure

When you were both back in the tent Daryl stood infront of you and helped strip you of the dirty day clothes, he pushed back you jacket dropping it on the ground as he continued to lift you shirt over your head, followed by him unclipping your bra then got to his knees to pull down your pants all going to the clothes pile

He took one of his clean shirts from your bag and helped you put it on, he then pulled you into him and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead as you let out a despaired sigh

You felt so loved being with Daryl even when he was upset he always looked out for you

You tried to shake yourself out of your haze so you could help him now, you took off his vest, shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers

You both got into bed as you held him close his head laid against your chest, even though he tried not to show it you could tell that having to put Dale down was keeping him up

“Daryl…..do you wanna talk about it?” You asked as you gently ran your hands through his hair

“Nah, just be here” he mumbled against your chest

“I love you D”

He didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeezing you tighter

~~~~~~~~

The next day everyone was moving closer to the house including you and Daryl, busy doing that Daryl said he was gonna go and check on Randall with Rick, after a while you heard yelling and when you got to the shed where they kept Randall Shane came out of the trees with a busted nose screaming about how Randall got out came at him and clocked him with his gun

“Daryl Glenn go look me and Shane will go together, everyone else stay in the house” Rick said but before they could go you took Daryl’s hand

“Please be careful, keep your guard up” he looked at you nodding as he squeezed your hand in reassurance as he took his crossbow off his shoulder and was off with Glenn disappearing into the trees

You went back to your tent as everyone else went inside, you could never be too sure what could happen with the world now so you packed your bag with a blanket, yours and Daryl’s clothes, some of his other arrows and some food cans Daryl still had then you went back to the house

You sat on the couch next to Maggie and you saw how nervous she was

“Hopefully our men have each others back out there” you said making her smile

“I told Glenn I loved him the other day when he went to get dad, it freaked him out but he came around today and told me he loved me too, I don’t wanna lose him now right before we even start”

“He’s with Daryl, I know you don’t know him that well but Daryl is a survivalist, he’ll watch over Glenn I have a feeling they’ll come back fine” she nodded as she pulled you into a hug

~~~~~~

The sun was set now and you were getting more anxious but then the door swung open and in came Daryl and Glenn

“What happened?” Andrea asked

“We found Randall he was dead” Glenn said

“The others ain’t back yet?” Daryl asked

“No can you please go look for them” Lori asked and it made your blood boil but Daryl nodded not even looking at you before he left again

“Why would you send him back out there? If you want to find Rick do it yourself, Daryl’s not your errand boy” you said to Lori getting made

“I’m sorry” Lori said acting like the victim as usual

“Ya you’re always sorry” you said as Maggie held you shoulder and pulled you away

~~~~~~~~~~

The barn caught fire and everything went south fast, walkers were everywhere, you could find Daryl but you had to go, you got your bag and got in a car with Rick, Hershel and Carl

He drove you to the interstate where you first stopped hoping the others might be there but when you got there, it was just you four

“No no no, I need Daryl, we have to go back, I need to find him” you said starting to hyperventilate

“Dear you need to calm down” Hershel said as he placed his hands on your shoulders

That’s when you heard the beautiful rumble of Daryl’s bike, you looked up and there he was with Carol on the back of his bike, when he pulled up and got off he came over and wrapped his arms around you tight, breathing eachother in as you cried

“I was so scared Daryl, I didn’t know where you were” you cried into his chest

“I’m sorry peach, I looked for ya but I was gettin surrounded”

“I’m just glad you’re safe and with me”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They reunion was amazing but now on the road it was getting hard, you and Daryl had gone threw the food cans you had packed quickly, it’s been 8 months on the road, sleeping in random houses even storage lockers and scarce food

The others were holding up better than you, when you didn’t get enough food your body dwindled fast due to low iron, it made you weak and that scared Daryl

You were leaning against a wall in a house you all had cleared out and sitting around as Daryl was out trying to hunt

You were so tired, when you entered the house the first time you looked at yourself in a broken mirror and you noticed the pale complexion, the sunken eyes and how thin you’ve gotten, you looked haunting

“You doing okay y/n?” Maggie asked as her and Glenn sat next to you

You just nodded but they knew you were doing awful, everyone’s noticed your rapid decline compared to everyone else

Daryl came back quickly kneeling infront of you, holding your face in his hands as he checked on you

“You’re back” you smiled weakly glad he made it back safe

“I got ya a deer, big enough to feed everyone” he said as he placed a kiss to your lips giving you a worried look as he went to skin and prep the deer

“Maggie…..” you said trying to get her attention and she was quick to pay attention

“What are you okay?”

“I’m gonna…..rest…..can you watch and……check on Daryl please” you asked feeling yourself drifting off

“Of course” she said in the thick country accent

~~~~~~~

Daryl’s POV

As I was skinning the deer Maggie came out and sat with me

“You need any help?” She asked as I chopped up pieces of meat

“Ya can started cookin these on the fire” I said pointing to the small fire near by I lit

She took them and laid them on the little fire pit

“How’s she doin?” I asked breaking the silence

“She’s getting weaker, I think the deer will help”

“I’m scared for her Maggie” I groaned feeling the stress overcome me, I knew ever since we were teens that she had low iron and that she’d get tired when she didn’t eat proper but this is the worst I’ve ever seen even Hershel was worried and we couldn’t find any pills either

“We’ll get her better Daryl, ya just gotta have hope, she still here for you, she’s fighting for you, she told me earlier” that warmed my heart, god I loved that woman so much that’s why I needed her better

~~~~~~~~~~

Normal pov

You felt someone shaking you awake and when you opened your eyes Daryl was there with a plate of deer for you

“Ya gotta eat” he said as he held a piece to your mouth, he continued to hand feed you deer until it was done, until he got a second plate for you, it really must have been a big deer

Once you were done you were feeling a bit better hopefully your body absorbed the iron you desperately needed

“How’re ya feelin?” He asked as he came sitting behind you so you could lay your back against his chest as he started eatin

“I think it helped, gotta give it time”

“I’ll find us a place, I promise” he said as he took our blanket from the bag and wrapped it over you as you slowly fell asleep again

—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.8<-

Oop reader is sick can she make it?

Taglist: @thebadbatch2022 @ghostboneswrites @deansapplepie @writer-ann-artist

[megs-2810]

This is part 1 of a Daryl x fem reader from season 1 part 2 will be coming soon!! (This os my first fic if you have any notes on how I can make them better dm me or leave it in notes below I hope you enjoy the first part :))

Contains -fluff, smut, blood, inappropriate language, 18+

Word count - 3.6k

Summary - you and Daryl met when the fall happened and you joined the group by the quarry. You had a very awkward relationship with him as he seemed very resentful of you but he begins to open up more as you spend more time together.

You joined the group after the fall had happened. You were relatively safe here as only a few walkers would make their way up to the land your group called “home for now”. You joined the group after being saved by Daryl on one of his hunting trips, you were surrounded by walkers and Daryl came with his crossbow and helped take them out while you stabbed them with your knife. After they were all cleared you could see the man who rescued you his scruffy look and his raspy, deep voice “watcha doin out here alone girl” he said motioning for you to go over to him “thanks” you say as you walk over to him still in shock after being surrounded. He looked you over to make sure you weren't a bit “come girl” he said while walking towards the group you followed hesitantly and he noticed your hesitance “I ain’t gonna hurt you girl” he said looking at you so you followed.

When you finally got to the camp eyes covered you “who the hell is that Daryl” a guy shouted with an angry tone, this was when you finally found out your rescuers name. “Girl was alone gettin attacked” Daryl said back to the guy shouting and cursing under his breath “we can’t keep bringing random people here who need help, she gotta go” the guy shouted. The group were just watching you as you were just told to go and as you start to walk away a woman stops you “ignore him you are staying” she said grabbing you arm and taking you over to the fire to clean you up. “Lori what are you doing” the guy shouts again “she’s staying” Lori yells back he falls silent and goes back to his watch duty’s. Daryl walked away and disappeared into a tent as you watched him you felt someone touch you arm “are you ok what’s your name mines Lori and this is my son Carl” she said putting her hand in Carl's hair and ruffling it “oh um I’m y/n thank you for letting me stay I’ve been alone for a while” you say as you look around taking in all the people and the surroundings. While Lori is cleaning up a cut on your arm another woman approaches with a little girl “hi I’m Carol and this is my daughter Sofia and over there is my husband” she points over to him and he’s cutting up wood for the fire. Once Lori is done sorting your arm you get up “thank you I’m just going to see Daryl to thank him” as you say this Lori looks at you “he’s quite reserved and likes being alone and me and carol could use someone to watch the kids while we start making dinner” she says pointing at the kids playing. You look at her, Carol and the kids “I will just be a minute” you say starting to walk over where you saw Daryl disappear into his tent. You stand outside his tent “Daryl” you say waiting for a response “watcha want girl” he said coming out of his tent holding an arrow he’s sharpening looking at you with a stern look “I just wanted to say thank you again for first saving me and then bringing me back to your group” looking up into his icy blue eyes. “Leave me girl I’m busy can’t ya see” he glares at you waiting for you to leave, you look down at the floor after he spoke to you like it was nothing saving you and as you look up to walk away you see a slight sad look on his face like he regretted talking to you like that but it changed the moment you look back to the hard stern glare as you walk away.

You walk over to Lori, Carol and the kids “I’m back” you say a little quieter than before, they could see that your mood had changed after talking to Daryl “could you take the kids down to the lake” Lori said smiling you smile back “sure come on kids let’s go to the lake” as you walk toward the lake another person walks up to you “hey I’m Glenn nice to see a new face around here” he smiles as you smile back “hi I’m y/n it’s nice to see other people too I’ve been alone a while” you say genuinely happy to see and be with other people. “Can we go to the lake nowww” Carl and Sofia say in unison “oh sorry yes see you around Glenn” you say as the kids start pulling you by your arms to the lake as you hear Glenn laugh at the sight of you being pulled away. You sit down at the lake with the kids watching them throw rocks in the water until Lori comes down to say that the dinner was ready and we all head back to camp. You can smell the food and it smells good. You sit round the fire with everyone and you start chatting to Glenn who’s beside you. “Hi Glenn how are you” you say smiling at him before you take your first bite of food “I’m good y/n how’s you first half day in camp” he says putting a mouthful of food in.You can feel eyes on you as you go to reply to Glenn daryl is watching you talk to Glenn but you ignore him and carry on talking with Glenn “it’s been good I’ve enjoyed talking to people and seeing the kids play at the lake I genuinely didn’t think I would find anyone again” you say in a grateful tone and Glenn smiles. The rest of dinner was spent talking and laughing with Glenn about all sorts of random things all the while you could still feel Daryl’s eyes on you. Everyone had finished dinner and just spent time round the fire talking with each other. It started getting late and everyone starts getting ready to head to bed until you realise you have nowhere to sleep “hey y/n I have a spare bed in my tent if you wanna share a tent with me I get if you don’t” Glenn say from behind you “that would be great thanks Glenn, I’ll be in there in a few minutes I’m just going to get sorted” he nods and walks to the tent. You get changed in the RV (you change into shorts and a tank top) as Dale said you could change in there. Then you head down to the lake to wash your face before bed, as you clean your face you hear footsteps from behind you. When you stand up and wipe your eyes a familiar figure is met in your gaze it’s Daryl “oh hi I thought everyone had gone to bed” you say looking up at him “I saw ya leave and I wanted to check you were safe” he says meeting your gaze as you smile, he seems to regret what he just said with a look on his face “don’t thank me girl it’s nothing I don’t care about ya” he says as he starts to walk off. “Wait you can’t keep acting like this” you yell at him as he turns to look at you “do what girl” he started to get close to you again “pretend that you care then regret what you say and act like an asshole” he looks at you face as you say this clearly seeing that it’s pissing you off with that you walk away to your tent your sharing with Glenn.

The next few weeks you hardly see Daryl let alone talk after your first night in camp you say the odd thing here and there but nothing crazy. You and Glenn had started getting really close and he was like a best friend. You still shared his tent and sat together at dinner. That's the main time you saw Daryl and he would sit there and watch you with Glenn. You were cleaning the plates when you felt a rough and on your shoulder it made you jump “sorry I scared ya girl” immediately you knew it was Daryl from the way he spoke you turn your head still kneeling on the floor doing the dishes “hi are you ok” you say with a confused tone as he comes beside you and crouches down next to you. “I know we ain’t talked much since ya first night and I wanted to see if ya wanted to come huntin tomorrow with me” he said with a genuine tone and it shocked you “um yeah okay I’ll meet you in the morning” you said as he started to get up to walk away “see ya tomorrow darlin” you looked up as he said that but he was too far away to say anything back. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Daryl has just called you as you walk to your tent to go to bed. Before going to sleep you talk to Glenn “Daryl asked me to go hunting with him tomorrow” you say as you get into your bed it takes Glenn a while to respond “oh… um okay” he says with disappointment coming through his voice you can see he looks a bit sad after you said that “Glenn are you ok” you say still looking at him “yeah I’m fine I’m going to sleep night” and with that he turned away from you and blew out the light.

You wake up early the next morning and get ready it hot today so you wear your denim shorts and a little tank top and tie your hair into a messy bun and throw on your converse and meet Daryl by the fire. He’s in his usual outfit black jeans, sleeveless flannel and black boots with his crossbow at his feet.

“Ya ready to go” he says looking at you as you walk towards him “yeah let me just grab my knife” you say running over to grab it from the table by the RV. You follow Daryl out into the wood your both silent as Daryl hold his crossbow in his hands ready to aim it at anything that moves and you holding your knife “we really need to teach ya how to use a crossbow” you look at him “what you saying I’m not good with a knife” you say trying to sound serious “uh… n” you cut him off laughing “I’m joking Daryl are you going to teach me” he looks at you still smiling and when a hint of a smile crosses his lips this was the first time you had seen him smile. “Course I’d teach ya, start now if ya want” you look at him with a big smile and start frantically nodding he laughs at this and you laugh too. You put your knife away as he hands you the crossbow not knowing how uncoordinated you are “here hold it like this” as he tries to explain how to hold it you look at him with a dumbfounded look plastered across your face “ughhh I can’t hold it right how do you make it look so easy” he looks at you “practice darlin here let me help” you look up at him you’ve never seen him act this way with anyone else. He takes your hands and moves them to hold the bow correctly. He stood behind you and you could feel his breath on your neck and his rough hands overlapping yours on the bow “now look down the tip and aim and shoot” he says with his hands still holding yours steady. After a bit of practice you carry on hunting after finding a few squirrels and rabbits you head back to camp still talking about all things. You couldn’t help but think about his hands on yours and his breath sending shivers down your spine as you sat by the lake watching the kids while dinner was being prepared.

That evening during dinner Daryl invited you to sit with him and as Glenn was busy talking to Dale about the RV you agreed. As you sat down your knife slipped from your holster and cut a deep gash into your arm “ahh” you cried out in pain. Daryl looks down to see blood pouring from your arm and immediately grabbed a towel and placed it on your arm “ahh” you cried out again as he applied pressure to the wound “sorry darlin got to stop the bleedin. Carol come here y/n needs help” as Carol rushes over to sort out your arm you grab Daryl’s hand and lean your head on his shoulder looking away from the cut “is it bad” you say in a croaky voice as tears run down your cheeks “it’s quite bad but we can fix you up” Carol says with a smile as she gently sorted your arm. “It’s a’right darlin it’s nearly done” Daryl says as you squeeze his hand in pain as you look up at him you see you got blood on his top “I’m so sorry I got blood on you i promise I’ll wash it out” you say with an apologetic look on your face. “It’s a’right this ain’t thr first time I’ve had blood on this top I do huntin remember” you laugh at his comment and he smiles. “All done you will be alright it might leave a scar” Carol says and she points to your arm as you look at it still holding on to Daryl’s hand “thank you Carol” you say as she gets up and walks away. You look back at Daryl and at your hand still holding his “oh sorry I’ll let go now” you say with a little laugh as you take you hand from his you watch him as he grabs your dinner and places it on your lap as his fingers slightly graze your thigh your eyes meet his and you look away as you feel your cheeks growing warm.

It’s been about 2 weeks and your arm is nearly healed and you and Daryl have been spending a lot of time together. You guys have started flirting with each other but In your mind you know nothing will ever happen Daryl doesn’t seem the type for a relationship. You wake up that morning to go meet Daryl to go hunting as you’ve been going with him almost daily and you walk over to the fire and he’s sat there waiting he looks you up and down and a smirk appears across his lips you smile back “you ready to go” you say looking at him as he watches you walk past.

You’ve been out for about 2 hours when you come across a little hut in the woods. It's empty round and inside and you and Daryl go around scavenging for anything you could find. As you are looking Daryl comes up from behind you and touches your hips with his callous hands as he pulls you back up against his chest and leans to your ear “your lookin beautiful today darlin I can’t keep ma eyes off ya” you blush at his words and the fact you can feel his breath and his dick hard on your body “stop your making me blush dar” as you say this he leans down and plants a kiss on your shoulder “this ok” he says making sure your okay with this “yes” you nod as the signal to keep going. His hands trail all over your body as you turn around to face him his face is buried in the crook of your neck as he places little kisses all over your neck leading up to your jaw he pull back studying your face you eyes full of lust and wanting more you wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you up by your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist. You kiss him passionately as he presses your back up against the wall closing every inch of space between the two of you. His hands start caressing your ass as you hands are wrapped in his hair “god darlin ya feel so good up against me” you moan at his low husky voice as he holds you with one arm while the other travels under you top to your breast caressing and lightly tugging at the nipple “ugh i want you Daryl” you say in his ear while kissing his neck hearing him growl as he lays you on the bed. You start to unbutton his flannel and he pulls off your top revealing you to his eyes he darts back and forth between each breast before taking them in his hands and squeezing them together to smother them with kisses. As he moves around your breasts you can feel yourself becoming wetter and Daryl getting harder between your legs you moan as he sucks and teases the nipple while your hands are in his hair he comes up to kiss you and flip him putting yourself on top grinding on him low growls and moans escape him you smile seeing the pleasure your giving him. Your hands trail down to his waistband and you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper sliding off his jeans and pants together after you do the same. You look at him fully while he does the same as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you on top you continue to grind on top “god damn it girl you feel so good” he says as he flips you to your back he lines himself with your entrance and slides in slow so you can adjust to his size once you give the nod he starts thrusting his hips you moan with how good it feels as you pull him down to kiss him. He kisses all over your neck and your jaw to your lips as he feels all over your body every curve was touched. As he thrusts in and out moans escape both of you full of pleasure you feel your core starting to heat and the pressure builds he can feel you getting tighter round his dick. Both of you are moaning messes as the pressure hits the max “Daryl I’m going to cum” you look at Daryl’s satisfied face “come for me darlin” as he says those words your body releases all over his dick and he helps you to recover from your high before he cums In you. He leans down kissing you passionately one hand on your hip the other in your hair he then falls beside you both panting from the amazing experience. “Damn that was good darlin I’ve wanted ya for so long you're mine” you look at him and run your hand over his face taking him all him “I’m all yours Daryl Dixon”

You get dressed and head back to camp with the food you caught on the way home. “Ya stayin in my tent now darlin I wanna hold ya at night knowing ya ma girl” you look at him and smile “of course I will I wanna be as close as I can to you always” he smiles and takes the food over to Lori and Carol.

That night when it happened walkers appeared at the all round camp. Of course Daryl was right by your side keeping you safe and the group came to the conclusion that we had to leave NOW! Daryl gets on his bike and you climb on the back the rest of the group pack into cars and the RV and we hit the road. Your hands are round Daryl’s waist as he drives the bike taking one of your hands to his lips and kissing it you lean on to him hugging him till we come to a stop. The RV had broken down on a highway and we scavenged round cars looking for parts when a hoard came “darlin get down here” you climb under a car with Daryl he holds you close and your breathing steadies as you watch the hoard flow past you. When we thought it was over we heard a scream from Sofia who was being chased by a walker and she ran into the forest. For days groups went out looking for her, you and Lori tried your best to comfort Carol as she was distraught about losing Sofia. One day when one of the groups was out looking we heard a gunshot “what was that” I turn to Daryl with a concerned look and we waited for the group to return when only Shane did “Carl’s been shot he’s been taken to a farm the people there said we can drive there an stay on the farm until Carl is better” you look at Lori who is kneeling on the floor sobbing you go over and help her to her feet “he’s gonna be alright Lori I believe in Carl he’s strong”. As I look around people begin packing up and getting sorted to head to the farm all except Carol “what if she comes back and we’re gone” Shane has taken Lori so I walk over to Carol who’s stood with Daryl “we will come here everyday we will leave food here and a sign for her to stay here if she comes back” I hug her and she agrees hesitantly. We all get back on the road and head to the farm unsure of what awaits us…

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part 1, Part 2

Taglist: @strnqer, @1985bitch, @curlycarley, @imaginemyfavoritefics,

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital mention, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged! And this time is loosely based on S3, E5, where Daryl and Maggie go to get baby supplies for Judith. I will not be following the story to a T though, and will kinda carve out my own path, it's been ages since I've seen it so, any weird story omits or things I don't mention are just not happening here lol. And I know this is kinda fast, I'm just writing as I feel like it, so don't expect super quick updates all the time, but here's a treat. Thanks for reading!]]

You stopped, hand resting on a tree, just for a moment. Taking some deep breaths, you scanned the area, looking for anything familiar or anything that you could, at least, stay the night in. You were practically running on less than an hour of sleep, the pure adrenaline of surviving being the only thing forcing your eyes open.

Currently, your plan was to use some old lipstick you'd found in a purse - somewhere along the road - to mark trees. Leaving a trail, so you knew where you'd been and where you were going. It was simple, and would probably wash away in the rain, but it was enough for now.

With an exhale, you kept moving deeper into the forest - a hope for a cabin, deep in your heart. An unoccupied cabin.

It's not that you didn't want to help people. You truly did. And if you found anyone who needed it, you would - other straggling groups with limps and cuts and bruises. You'd give them advice on how to clean wounds properly, some regular items they could use. If an injury was more serious, you'd stay with them just for a while to watch the person, keep an eye on whatever you had to.

It never stuck, though. You found it easier to be alone, to be on the move. You could help more people that way.

Plus, there were... others. Driven to madness by the tragedy, brutally ready to kill at first sight for whatever fucked up reason they came up with. Some of them had used you for a while, providing you food and shelter, just to ship off wounded soldiers to you - ones they wounded themselves. It was eerily familiar to your previous job, and you almost fell into a rhythm - even thinking about it now, it snuck a knot of guilt in your stomach. One too many threats, and you found yourself back to traveling.

The scrubs you still wore stuck to your skin, hair matted and blood soaked - you imagined this wasn't one of your best days. But it honestly probably wasn't your worst either.

And then, you heard it. The snap of a twig.

"Fuck," you whispered barely even a breath, pulling your duffel over your side and readying your fire axe. (You'd grabbed it back at the hospital, all that time ago.)

There was something to be said about a single snap of a twig because the dead were noisy.

They were unaware - would continue down the path, crunching leaves and snapping more twigs, dragging their feet through the dirt. In different circumstances, they could sneak up on you. With the soft grass under their feet and the hum of the animals in the forest mixing in with their own tones, sometimes you had to rely on the quietest of noises.

But this forest? No.

Without thinking a second more, you spun behind the nearest tree, the red of the lipstick - grazing along your fingers.

"What, so-" a voice spoke, "-we just give up?"

"No," a gruff tone responded, hair a little overgrown, and what seemed to be a crossbow on his back, "-Just means we got some extra work to do."

The woman, who had short brunette hair and a pistol in her hands, said, "Yeah, and we're gonna do it. We... have to. She deserves a chance."

"Of course," the man responded, a little bit upset she even insinuated he wouldn't care.

You watched carefully, eyes following the pair as they roamed through the woods - before stopping in front of one of your trees, your marked trees.

"Fuck," you muttered, so soft, the wind could’ve whisked it away, exhaling carefully and turning around to face the other way.

"What's that?" the woman asked, a tone of mixed concern and curiousity.

There was a scrape, and you could only assume the man touched the lipstick mark, as he hummed, "Not blood."

"I think..." the woman muttered, the slight slur of her accent becoming stronger, "-I think it's lipstick."

The man huffed, his accent strong, "What for?"

There was more leave crunching, and the woman replied, "Maybe a path? I don't..."

"Hello?" the man spoke, and you heard the click of metal, like he'd moved his gun up, "Is anyone there?"

The woman seemed to keep moving, leaves crunching getting closer and closer to your ears, you knew they'd notice an end of the path.

You needed to do something quick.

"I'll give ya 'til a count of 3," the man spoke, the metal clicking once more, "-one."

Your breaths shook, as you debated your options, based on what you'd seen the gun the man had was long range. So, running was out of the question.

"Two," his accent lilted.

Your feet were almost rooted in fear, what if it happened again? What if all you were surrounded by was death? What if they used you and then killed you next? God, you couldn't die, not now. Not after everything you'd done.

"Three," he added, tone more aggressive, and the click of the metal once more sending fear down your spine.

You couldn't wait any longer, squeezing your eyes shut, you spun around, "Wait!"

Expecting the blossoming pain, you flinched. Yet, after a moment, nothing happened.

You cracked open your eyes, and saw two guns trained at you, the woman and man now in clear sight. Noticing now, the bags full placed at their feet, you wondered if they thought you were here for their supplies.

Without hesitation, the man straightened his gun and asked, "Are ya bit?"

"No," you answered quickly, flourishing your arms forward as if to show the lack of teeth marks, "-no, I'm clean, you can check."

"What's your name?" the woman spoke, tone solid and unmoving.

"Y-Y/N." you stuttered out, looking down the barrel of two guns wasn't exactly calming.

The man, a bit distant, replied, "What are you doing out here?"

"I..." you exhaled, trying to calm your shaking hands which were still caked in blood (as the rest of you were), "-I'm just looking for shelter for the night. Look, I don't mean you two any harm, just leave me be and I'll-"

The woman faltered, her green eyes flickering with emotion -just for a second, "You need shelter?"

"Uh, yes," you spoke, a bit bewildered that they were listening but too tired to question it, "-I haven't slept in 3 days, I just need some rest and I'll be-"

"Maggie," the man spoke stern and low, and you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

The sun was setting now, and if they had some shelter, this was your last chance for the night and you were just so tired. What else could you do?

Maybe you could bring something to the table.

Interrupting their hushed conversations, you began, "I... I heard you say a 'she' earlier, is there something wrong with her?"

The two stopped talking, the man's icy glare set on you, "Why you askin'?"

"I-If she's sick, I can help," you beckoned, "-I come from a hospital, I have all kinds of medical supplies. I-I can show you if you want. And-"

The man interrupted again, as the woman, Maggie you now knew, carefully watched you, "You a doctor of some kind?"

You paused, waiting for a moment before responding, "Y-yes. I'm a nurse, er well, I used to be. I... I worked at Harrison Memorial Hospital when it all went down."

The woman started this time, "And you're willing to help us?"

"Yes," you asserted, "-as long as I have a place to stay for the night. That's... that's all I ask."

"But you'll stay as long as we need ya?"

You furiously nodded, "Of course. I won't... I won't leave someone I know I can help behind."

The two turned to each other, before slowly pointing their guns to the ground. You exhaled a big breath of relief as your heartbeat slowed, muttering out, "Thank god."

The woman, held out her hand, "Maggie."

You hesitated for a moment, at the current state of your hands, before accepting it with a quick shake.

"Daryl," the man added, hand extended as well. You shook his, and began to follow in their footsteps -leading about west of where you were headed just earlier.

"Are you with a group?" Maggie asked, strolling along the woodlands.

"No," you replied, "-I... I come and go. Sometime people need a doctor so I help, but-"

The two looked at you, still watching you to say something wrong. They were still heavily armed afterall. The thought made your hands shake.

"I ended up in some shady places," you continued, "-because I stayed. So, I don't really stay anymore."

Daryl hummed in response, and Maggie simply looked at you with eyes of hesitant trust. Like she wanted desperately to trust you, but it seemed hard. You didn't blame her. Not really.

The last time you trusted someone, it hadn't gone well then either. This world is not one of trust, you knew that.

"We have a group," Maggie continued, walking in step with you as Daryl scouted ahead, "-it's small but we don't trust too well."

"Right," you murmured, expecting as much.

Daryl hummed, "We have a leader too. You'll have to meet him. You gonna be alright with that?"

Before you could even respond, Maggie interjected -an unsettled look in her eyes, "Daryl, is he even... in the space to do this?"

"Don't have to be," he responded, a little coldly, but you figured that was just kind of his tone at this point, "-he's gotta. I'll talk to 'em."

You furrowed your eyebrows, a question on your tongue, but found the following silence was not one to be interrupted. Without thought, you simply adjusted your bag and continued along. Their path was set as if this happened often, and the knowledge that you were going to a very settled camp irked you just a little.

A dynamic that felt substantial in this post-apocalyptical world usually wasn't the kindest. Oftentimes, it was 'kill or be killed'.

You knew that well, staring down at your hands (which had definitely dried by now) -you wished you had a way to wash them off. But the water was too precious to risk anyone's supplies, frankly. It reminded you of before, when veins would rupture, when hearts wouldn't beat, and everything felt like it was on the line.

An exhale, and you scrubbed your hands on your pants.

It felt immoral, as you held a fire axe in your hands. Weren't you supposed to save people? Wasn't that in the oath?

Shaking your head, you glanced ahead at the pair wondering how exactly this group operated -where they had a protocol for finding people. That wasn't... You hadn't seen much of it.

"This group," you questioned, "-how long have you guys been together?"

"Long enough," Daryl answered, curtly, "-prove yourself and you might just have a spot with us." Maggie hummed in agreement, pulling her pistol close to her chest, as a large barbed wire fence came into your view. And... were those... watchtowers?

"Is this...?" You trailed off, eyes taking in the surrounding concrete and the few stragglers either slowly trudging to the group you found yourself in, or mindlessly clawing at the tall fences as if it would do anything.

"Our base," Maggie finished, pulling her pistol to attention and shooting one of the dead just ahead of you -right in front of what you assumed was the opening gate.

"And it's a..."

"Prison, yeah," Daryl finished, pulling out his bow and killing the other one without a flinch.

"Right," you responded, a bit astonished, "-have you guys cleared the place?"

"Almost," Maggie answered, as the three of you stood directly in front of the gate. There was a watchtower to your left, and you could see the familiar glint of a scope shining down from the top.

"Glenn!" Daryl shouted, you watched as the dead stirred toward the noise, "-Let us in!"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath of air catching in your lungs as the corpses made their way to you -slowly but surely. You knew a few weren't a threat, not with a group the size you currently were in, but you still felt this buzz of fear under your skin. Normally, you would be gone by now, vanished into the dust -not wanting to waste durability on a fight that would only bring more opponents.

Without warning, the door swung open and you assumed they had silenced the mechanism because no sound other than the screech of metal moving across the concrete filled your ears.

Which was not pleasant. At all.

The crowd there wasn't particularly large, but still seemed odd. Maybe you had been alone for too long.

A man quickly approached the group with a warm smile, rushing up to Maggie and scooping her into a hug. This figure hardly even noticed you or Daryl, now that you thought about it, but you doubted you would have either.

Daryl spoke, with a taste of disgust (you couldn't tell if it was playful or not) "That's Glenn, Maggie's boyfriend, you'll get used to it."

You nodded, pointing to a few stragglers around what looked like crops, "Okay, and... who are they?"

Without answering you, Daryl called out, "Rick out here?"

The older man who was tending to the crops looked up, eyeing you for a second, before answering, "I think he's inside, clearing out block F."

Maggie responded, "Daddy, can you see if you can get him out here?"

You blinked, absorbing the new information, Maggie's dad, right. The old man sighed, standing and brushing off his hands on his knees.

"I'll try."

Daryl nodded, not leaving your side, and it would've been comforting had you not known it was because you weren't fully trusted yet. Maggie guided you to a table, assumedly brought out from the cafeteria, and sat you down with a calm gesture to a chair. Glenn followed close behind, and Daryl merely observed.

You doubted he'd even blink while you waited for the mysterious Rick. He seemed the type to take his duty seriously.

"I'm Glenn," he held out his hand across the table, sitting just beside Maggie with curious but cautious eyes. It seemed he trusted Maggie's hesitant judgment of you.

"Y/N," you replied, accepting his hand, "-this is a lot, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Glenn continued, looking around the courtyard, "-finding the prison has been life-changing for us."

"I imagine," you laughed, a little in disbelief at the mere size, and looking over the two's shoulders to see the dead staring in through the fence. There weren't that many at all, but it still trickled in some of your solo senses.

Which were mostly bashing their head in before they get too close.

Maggie caught your eye, inquisitive almost like you were in an interview, "How familiar are you with the walkers?"

"You mean the dead?" you clarified, fingers trailing along the blood in the creases of your palms, "More familiar than I ever wanted to be, that's for sure."

Glenn opened his mouth to say something, but something bumped into your ankle and you were immediately on your feet. Prepared for the worst.

Instead of what you expected, there was a ball... An old deflated basketball probably from the court somewhere around here, you stared at it a bit incredulously. Like you'd almost forgotten it was a thing. You picked it up, brushing your finger along the bumpy texture.

"Sorry," a voice spoke. Squeaky and... familiar.

Your eyes snapped up and were met with those eyes 'You have to save him, please.' Breath caught in your lungs, your mouth moved but nothing came out. He was a little older now, with hair a touch longer and a sheriff's hat on the top of his head. But that was-

Daryl grunted, "Play somewhere else-"

"Carl?" you interrupted, tilting your head and dropping the ball to the floor; what were the chances?

Maggie stuttered out, a tone of protectiveness in her voice you'd have yet to experience, "You know him? Carl, do you know them?"

He paused, tilting his head in the same way you had just seconds before like he was trying to get a good look at you, "I..."

He looked into your eyes, eyeing your scrubs for a second -probably the same he'd seen you in so long ago. And the blue eyes that were so achingly familiar seemed to light up in recognition, he questioned, "Nurse Y/N?"

It was like a pin could drop, as the boy's gaze settled on you curiously, and every adult in the vicinity watched you like you were the most dangerous criminal in the world. A tension settling within the air that gave you uncomfortable goosebumps, and desperately made you want out of the spotlight.

Slowly, a grin slid across his features, his tiny finger pointing at you, elated, "You saved my Dad!" And before you could even react, the little boy had scurried up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle - almost knocking off his hat at the force.

You blinked, a little stunned at the current predicament, but shook yourself awake. Completing the hug, you exhaled a sort of relief you hadn't known you needed. Seeing this little boy surviving such a terrible world gave you a spark of something. Like you'd been waiting to hear this.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" you hummed with a very soft smile.

Just as he let go, you crouched down and fixed his hat on his head, suddenly much more comfortable in a known presence, "Cool hat, kiddo."

He grinned even wider, but before he could even say another word, another voice echoed through the courtyard. Tone hardened and deep, this one could not be missed.

"Carl?" a breathy southern drawl -that you knew- interrupted, and your stomach flipped.

The tone was accusatory, dangerous even, so you stood quickly. A distance now established, you looked up into the figure. That couldn't be-

The blue eyes had burned into your head, so clear, so decisive.

"Rick Grimes?"

[dismas-n-dismay]

Please I need to see the ship kids? Is Laios a good uncle? Do they have scales/feathers or sharp teeth? Horns? Claws? (This series has me in a chokehold rn)

*SQUEEZES YOU IN MY GRASP*

I had to put everything under the cut because this is a hella long post so everyone else just look at these cute farcille babies and rock on

HI HOWDY!! Laios is obsessed with these little freaks (he would never call them that though cause he would literally die for them if needed) He’s essentially been right by Falin and Marcille’s side since day one when it came to the babies! He’s a surprisingly good uncle but definitely that one where he gives the kids gifts that the parents are like “YEAH NO- he’s 8 he doesn’t need a crossbow”

He definitely gives the kids little trinkets he gets from foreign dignitaries since I don’t picture Laios really liking all the gifts and gold and money people will give him to butter him up when he catches onto it. The cool monster stuff stays with him though, but he’ll let the kids look at anything cool he gets that he decides to keep for his personal collection. I like to imagine that when he holds them he always keeps them to the side of his hip, real mom type stance when he’s holding them.

Secondly, GREAT QUESTION!! They have a little bit of both! Haru (the cream colored baby) has feathery down covering his ears, chest, and wings as well as basically anywhere else that he isn’t scaly or covered in soon to be thought flesh. He’s more of a dragon from the waist down but bird from the waist up like Falin was.

His sister Haize (the apple red one) has the most scales! (But the least feathers out of the pair) Haize has more of that traditional dragon look and unlike Haru, she’s dragon basically to the neck up. She has scrawny little forearms that aren’t quite attuned to walking yet but once she grows they’ll become a lot more useful for the crawling around stage of her infancy! Haru will often try to climb on her back because he wants to be fast too- he’s only a little guy but he still hates that she got the extra limb genes where he didn’t.

Both have wings though the down that Haru has makes it a bit difficult for him to fly, though he really grows to enjoy flapping and the flutter of his wings! Haize has more sleek featherless dragon wings which make her flight process a bit easier, though her longer body means that her flying is quite silly (it’s like when you pick a cat up by their middle and they just dangle, imagine that but with flight and her trying to tuck her limbs in to have less weight pulling her down). Both have claws on their dragon halves as well as spikes/spines on their backs though only Haize has been born with the making for clawed hands, Haru grows into his later in life!

Really Falin and Marcille are glad that the kids are in relative captivity, Haru’s inherited the “head empty, no thoughts, tee hee” touden genes and they’re like 75 percent certain that he would get eaten if natural selection had its way - assuming Haize didn’t protect him ofc. Haru is very sleepy as a baby while Haize is very cranky. She likes to sleep on her back but her itty bitty dragon wings get cramped when she does and sleeping on her side isn’t as a comfy. Aside from that she just likes attention and being with her parents which is tough due to their jobs.

Haru has colic due to the light magic that manifests in his stomach pouch organ! He was born with an organ similar to the one red dragons have that allows them to breathe fire! It allows him to conjure and manifest light and can be weaponized if a dragon knows what they’re doing. Really it’s much more useful as bioluminescence for dragons who dwell in darker dungeons as it allows them to lure in prey and the pouch’s brightness grows as a dragon approaches somewhere stacked with mana and magic which is an easy way to find enemies or food! Typically light dragons are very powerful but a rare find as they’re often incredibly soft and unable to protect themselves as babies as well as their newly born pouches which let off a lot of glow due to basically incubating for a year or so and refuse to dampen until they learn to properly dispel their magic via spells. Not to mention how easy of a target it is for their obvious weak spot, one bad slash to the tummy and ur done.

Most dragon babies learn early as having that much magic in you hurts a LOT but Haru takes a lot while to learn it, though Falin soon learns that pressing on his stomach and conjuring her own light magic to siphon Haru’s own eases a lot of his tummy aches and pains.

(I got way more facts about these guys so if you wanna know more just send another ask!! :]!! /gen)