#he learnt after his escape anyways

[hyper-pixels]

Steel: Go into my head.

Mitchel: no?????

[carlsangel]

dad’s rifle (g.i.t.w, ch.3)

carl grimes x fem!reader

warning: death.

masterlist here!

other chapters here!

You always felt like you had an unfair disadvantage in life. You were on vacation when the world died, just with your dad and sister. He was in the military and barely had much time with you but he finally was able to take you somewhere for a week. There was a layover somewhere in Georgia when everything started to get progressively worse. You knew nothing about the area so when the apocalypse struck, you and your family were lost.

It was rough at first, your dad was oddly aggressive and your sister was cold. She never spoke to you, but she pushed you around when you needed to be. She probably saved your life multiple times without you even knowing.

Anyway the first couple months were rough but you were eventually able to be somewhat comfortable with it all. You missed your extended family like hell but you still had your dad and your sister. You were okay.

Until you weren’t.

At some point you guys were in a smaller group. Just a bunch of survivors doing their best to keep living. You would separate at night however, build campfires per family even though that sounded quite dumb. the flames were small so you weren’t visible. Your dad had surprised you with marshmallows that night. “Here take this one.” You were sad you didn’t make your marshmallow like his, he was always so good at it. Your sister was still not talking but she was enjoying herself as well. She ended up giving you her bracelet that night too. Just in case anything happened.

It wasn’t until the morning you woke up to the sounds of the dead along with your dad yelling. He grabbed you and your sister and bolted off into one direction, leaving the rest of the group to fend for themselves.

The dead still followed you to your new destination, an old cabin. In said cabin there was an old chair that looked quite large that your dad used to secure the door shut so you had time to escape. He lead you both into the far back room of the cabin and opened a window, a window that only opened half way.

Enough for you and your sister to get through. Meanwhile, the dead bursted through the door.

It was a quick goodbye.

You and your sister made it out alive. You were on your own for a little while after that. When it came down to it, your sister felt like she had to do whatever it took to protect you. She was often aggressive or rude when telling you what to do, only because she knew you’d listen to her. At the time she seemed so mean, but now that she was gone you could understand everything she taught you.

It wasn’t easy losing her either.

It happened maybe two months after your dad. You thought that if you were ever in a situation like the one when you lost your dad again, you’d do everything in your power to stop it. You constantly feel like you could’ve done anything to help, or maybe you should’ve stayed with him. Then you wouldn’t be in so much pain.

You and your sister ran into a horde of walkers. She knew that you’d never be able to run from it, not without a distraction. She looked around frantically for a solution. All she saw as a viable option was herself. She stops you and puts the bag on you. “You take the bag, you take dad’s rifle and you run. Run as far away as you can. Okay? I love you.” She tells you pressing a kiss to your forehead and pushing you in the opposite direction. She pulls her knife out of her belt and prepares, meanwhile you try to protest. “I don’t wanna leave you here, I-” She’d cut you off to tell you to just go.

So you run. You run as fast as you could all while sobbing your eyes out. You’ve been on your own ever since.

You learned to live alone, you took all the tips you and your sister had learnt together as well as some of your dad’s military experience and you ran with it. You did great by yourself, that fact never went unnoticed. You found a group or two you somewhat got along with and they would quite literally perish soon after meeting them. It was tragic, yes but you never got attached so it never quite got to you. After that you chose to isolate yourself, just so you didn’t have to deal with the pain. In reality it seems cold, but that’s just how you were able to say steady.

You wanted to stay alive, you knew that the only way your dad and sister’s memory would live on is if you were to stay alive and honor them. You hoped that one day you could tell stories about them to your children. That is if you made it to have any.

Anyway you dodged a fair amount of sketchy groups. You considered yourself as someone who got the good and bad ends of the apocalypse stick. You could sense when something wasn’t right and that saved you a lot of the time. For the shit end of it, well you lost your family. But that’s all in the past.

─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───

Now you were dealing with some sassy cowboy. He stole your rifle and ghosted you. Ironic for someone nicknamed the ghost in the woods, you were the one who was meant to disappear. Granted you could tell that Alexandria was having a rough time. Once the horde cleared to a louder section of the community you were able to get closer to get a good look at what was going on inside the walls. You could see the absolute grotesque amount of walkers, almost looking like an entire sea flood the front gates. Some spilled to the side and lingered there, so you steered clear.

A part of you felt somewhat anxious, you thought you’d be witnessing the fall of Alexandria. Maybe Carl would die, but you didn’t want to worry about that. At least you tried. You weren’t quite successful. Noticeably, Alexandria was going through a rough patch. They had tons of their people die, not to mention they drew plenty of attention with the blaring truck horn which you realized had hit at the opposite wall you were at. You lingered at the back wall rather than the busier side. Little did you know, you’d have a visitor.

You pulled your knife after hearing a branch snap behind you.

It was Carl.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You keep your voice low so you don’t draw the walkers. “I’m here to get you.” He explains, he’s slightly out of breath. “Get me? It’s too dangerous for you to be outside the walls.” You tell him. Unfortunately he’s as stubborn as they come. “Which is why I’m here to get you. Cmon, we don’t have much time.” He tries to get you to move but you don’t budge. “You need to leave.”

Carl’s been so concerned for you the past couple days he hadn’t been coming out to see you. He’d been meaning to but everything seemed to be going downhill. Just the day before, the Wolves broke into Alexandria and he had to be there for Judith. He was scrambling to find any way for you to come back with him.

“Look, I get it, I didn’t bring back your rifle and…I know I pushed you a little too much to join Alexandria the other day. But this is serious. It’s life or death, okay? Just do the right thing. Come back to Alexandria. Just till the hordes cleared up and—maybe you’ll like it there and choose to stay. You don’t have to just please hear me out.” He pleads.

He’s so convincing, but you’re just as stubborn as he is.

“I told you I have no interest. I’m fine out here it’s not my first time around a horde. You should go.” You frustrated Carl to no end and he really didn’t want to annoy you or betray your trust, but he had no option. You could see him build up the strength.

“You either come back to Alexandria with me or you’re never getting your rifle back.”

The words that came out of his mouth were quite unlike him, he never wanted to be as bitchy as he was.

He just needed you to listen.

a/n: i want you all to know that when building this story, the sisters death made me so sad that i decided that canonically the sisters not dead she made it out and she’s looking for the reader trust

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @lilyglasergrimes @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @zombiigrll @amanita-raine @prettylittlevampire12 @shadowybasementmiracle @junkyard-juno27 @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @sophiaatwdluver

[chelleztjs18]

Somewhere In The Multiverse (W.M)

Scarlet Witch x Fem!MultiverseVariantReader! (Avengers AU)

Summary: After Westfield, as The Scarlet Witch, Wanda is in her endless journey to find her boys through the multiverse until one particular universe caught her attention.

Warning: None, I guess this is just something domestic with a sprinkle of angst. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/n: Hello! I'm back! I finally got this fic done after a while. I wrote the parts towards the ending when I'm down, so I couldn't really focus. Please bear with me if some part a little wonky or doesn't make sense. lol. Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Five long dreadful years after Vision died and a guilt filled year after everything that happened in Westview, Wanda still desperately searches for her happiness. The longing for the happy life with Vision and her twin sons drew her to the Darkhold.

To Wanda, it’s the only way for her to get them back. Being the fast learner and powerful witch she is, she easily figured out ways to look around in different universes.

Universe after universe, Wanda sees different kinds of happy life her variants have with them. She can hear her son’s laughter. Different scenarios of life she dreamt about exist in another universe until there’s one that intrigues her.

In this one universe, no matter how many times she sees through it, Wanda only sees Billy and Tommy. They live happily just like in the others but she never sees herself nor Vision in it. The more she observes it the more she is drawn to it. Questions popped up in her mind. Do Vision and her exist in that particular universe? With whom do Tommy and Billy live? Who is the person behind their laughter and smile?

Wanda spends more time focusing on it and clues start to show up. She starts to see another figure with her twin sons, you.

Wanda never gets the chance to see your face. Every single time she tries to find out, she can only see the back of you. She doesn’t recognize you, your voice nor from your appearance. All of these surely drags her curiosity up to the surface of her mind.

With all the spells and ritual she learnt from The Darkhold, she decided to pay this universe a visit.

With an ease, Wanda gets into this different life in a different world yet seems to be familiar. She looks around and she figures that she is in the house where her sons live. Wanda instantly feels peaceful. At first it felt weird for her about how much she feels like she is home.

It's really calm and quiet. The house feels warm and cozy in her heart. Just like how she always dreams about even though part of her is wondering where the twins are. All the colors, furniture and decoration around seems like welcoming her home.

Wanda continues wandering around, her sights jumping from one spot to another. She even feels that she is attached to this universe, something that she never feels when she watches the others. Her hands start to touch around the couch, the coffee table and she lands her interest on one black shelf near the televisions. She found some books, a few of them are the ones that she read before. Her fingers keep slowly sliding around the lines of books on the shelves.

Another shelf on the other side really caught her attention. A mix of rows of movies and records on it. Wanda tilts her head curiously as soon as she sees a series of old sitcoms. Including her favorite ones that she used to watch with her parents. The urge she has inside her to pull the movies out and play it but she manages to control it and just looks at them with her glossy green eyes.

Wanda proceeded to look around more. She sees pictures on the walls, other tables and more shelves. A shaky soft gasp escaped her lips. She takes a closer look at the hung frames with mixed pictures of Tommy and Billy.

Wanda sees pictures of Tommy with his baseball team and a picture of him holding a big fish that he caught when he went fishing with you. She continues looking at the next pictures. She sees a picture of Billy winning his archery competition and all other random silly pictures of both of them.

Tears started to slowly fill her eyes. She can feel her hands getting a little shakier. Without hesitation, Wanda gently touches the face of the twins in the picture lovingly. Her lips quivered, a huge wave of emotions suddenly crashed onto her.

All mixed up feelings fill her heart, even Wanda herself doesn’t even know if it was happy tears or sad ones.

She wipes her tears right after she finds a few more pictures. Pictures that have herself from this universe in it with brown hair all smiling together with you in it. She sees you kiss her cheeks in one picture and she hugs you so close in the other. Some pictures have the four of you in it, as a happy family. Slowly bits and pieces of Wanda’s own conclusion start to gather around her mind. A little stack of mail on a table caught her attention.

“Y/n Y/L/N” Wanda mumbles under her breath reading the name on the envelopes. Wanda figures that it’s your name.

All of a sudden, Wanda hears something and it breaks her focus on the pictures. She is aware that someone is coming.

She hears familiar voices and suddenly she hears Billy scream for help. “Tommy, help me!”

“My boys.” she says under her breath at the same time with red wisps showing up wrapping around her hands. Wanda was ready to fight whoever dared to hurt them.

“No. This is why I suggested you pick a violin for the music class, not the Cello. Now, you can barely bring your other school stuff because it’s bigger than you.” Tommy replies with his straight to the point thoughts.

Wanda’s red wisps quickly disappeared and she let out a relieved sigh. A smile curves on her face hearing the conversation but right away turns to a confused frown after she hears your voice.

“Tommy, be nice to your brother and help him please. My hands are full with the groceries.” Wanda notices how gentle you talk to the boys and it draws her smile back. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.” Tommy agrees in defeat.

Few seconds later, Wanda manages to manipulate the surroundings as soon as you and the twins walk into the house. Neither you or the boys see her there. Wanda hears Tommy’s complaining question. “Who likes to listen to Cello anyways?” The boys take off their shoes in random spots while you walk to the kitchen.

“Mommy does. So do I. You boys have to be supportive of each other, okay.” You answered as you put all the groceries on the kitchen counter. “Okay, Mama.” The twins’ voices overlap each other.

Wanda was surprised when they called you Mama. Are they your kids too? What about Vision? What happened to him? With all those confused and intrigued thoughts she follows them to their room, watching them put all their school stuff back to their shared bedroom but right after that they run back to the kitchen to help you.

It was very difficult for Wanda to hold herself back to not appear in front of the three of you and hug the twins but she didn’t want to scare everybody. She continues watching in silence every move you make.

“Mama, are you going to make chicken paprikash on Mommy’s birthday?” Tommy asks with a cute tone.

“Yes, I will, sweetheart.. We will celebrate it together with her favorite food.” you answer with a soft smile. Wanda has been too busy with the Darkhold and the multiverse and hearing that reminds her that it’s almost her birthday too. Since Pietro died, Wanda never celebrated her birthday anymore, she could care less about it. Surprisingly, what she is seeing from you and the boys drags her curiosity about this whole birthday thing in the next week.

Wanda spends the rest of the day watching you and the boys, thinking that the variant of herself in this universe will come. Wanda is really curious to see her but at the end of the night she starts to wonder why the variant isn’t home yet.

Seeing you put the boys to bed and you get ready to bed after as if you have been doing it by yourself for quiet sometimes makes her think of a temporary conclusion that your Wanda probably is on a mission.

Wanda keeps going back to your universe in the last few days, watching how your days and life go with the twins. The longer Wanda is around you and watches everything, the more she sees that you are very great with the twins. You take very good care of them and it’s undeniable that they love you so much. The boys are very close with you. They make you laugh as much as you make them. It warms Wanda’s heart seeing everything. Sometimes she doesn’t even realize that a smile always curls up on her face whenever she sees you smile and laugh. Wanda’s adoration towards you slowly built up in the last few days.

Sometimes you can feel someone’s watching or even feel like a familiar figure is in the room with the three of you. There are these unexplainable feelings you feel in you. You feel like you are complete again whenever you feel that presence around after all these years. You feel.. less lonely but you shrug the feelings off, thinking it was just probably because you miss your Wanda so much.

Days have passed and today is Wanda’s birthday. Deep down she is excited to see what will you and the boys do today even though part of her knows that it’s all for her variant, not her.

Wanda sees you wake up but she can’t figure out if you look happy or sad. It’s your Wanda’s birthday, why wouldn’t you look happy? Her thought starts to wonder. You sit up but your head hangs low as your hands cover your face for a few seconds as you take a deep breath. “Happy birthday Wanda.” you mumble under your breath. Confused, Wanda’s head tilted a little.

Your hands rub your face and you try to make a smile as soon as you hear running steps coming to your room and Wanda notices everything.

The crease on her forehead fades right away and a smile comes up right after she sees Billy and Tommy come into the room and get on the bed to hug you.

“Ma! Oh great, you are awake!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Oh good morning to both of you, my little monkeys! Of course I’m awake.” You tease them as you hug them back.

“Yeah Tommy. Mama wouldn’t forget Mommy’s birthday today. She already got everything planned, right Mama?” Billy asks.

“Of course! We gonna cook mommy’s favorite dish—”

“Paprikash! It’s our favorite too!” The boys’ voices overlap competing to finish your words. You laugh. “Yes, yes. Paprikash, it’s our favorite.” Wanda accidentally chuckles watching all the sweet conversation that is happening. You quickly look back to where you thought you hear the little chuckles. You could’ve sworn you hear a familiar sound behind you and again, you feel the warm presence. Wanda takes notice of what is going on.

“Oh and the cake! Will you let us help make the cake too?” Tommy questions you and brings your focus back on them.

“Of course buddy. I always let you and your brother make Mommy’s cake. She always likes the cake you two make.” you playfully play with their hair.

“Yes!” Billy and Tommy exclaimed excitedly at the same time and did high fives with each other. “Okay okay, now go take a shower and get ready for the day. I will make breakfast for you. After breakfast, I want you to do your homeworks first before you two go playing. I will let you boys know when it’s time to cook and bake for Mommy’s birthday okay?” You gently tell them and they nod before they both run out of your room.

Meanwhile you, you walk towards where you felt the warm presence earlier. Wanda nervously takes a step back when you get closer. Her brain was sure and remembered what she learnt from the dark hold that you shouldn’t be able to see her or know that she was there after she casted this particular spell. Wanda can’t lie to herself that she feels this little spark and maybe a connection with you. Her heart skips a beat when you stand right in front of her.

“Wands, are you here? I miss you so much.” you whisper softly with a very sad desperate tone. Hearing your sad voice got her thinking that something isn’t right. It led her to pay more attention to little details that she might have missed.

Series of activities you and the boys have been doing and how much fun the three of you have  draws Wanda’s urge to show herself to you but she knows it’s not the time just yet. At least not until she sees her variant.

The paprikash and the cake are finally ready and it’s still only the three of you. Wanda is perplexed even more when you and the boys do not even bother to wait and have the dinner together then proceed to the cake.

Her own curiosity is killing her when Billy, Tommy and you sing happy birthday without the variant is even there. You blow the candles together right after.

No video call or call? What’s going on? Perhaps she is on a secret mission that doesn't even allow a simple birthday call?

At the end of the night, you put the boys to bed. Wanda follows you walk to the kitchen to do the dishes.

You look calm at first, doing your chores. The house sounds a lot more quiet when the boys are asleep, soft low volume from the TV makes its way to be heard every now and then. Wanda notices little changes on your facial expressions gradually. She thinks that you look exhausted but as Wanda is turning around to go to check on the boys she hears you start to cry.

She finds you bawling in such sadness. Wanda starts to think that you look broken-hearted. Between sniffling and crying, you mumble but clear enough for her to hear. “I miss you so much, Wanda. I really wish you were here. I wish you never did what you did. Please come back.”

Seeing how hurt you are and how you mumbled in anguish makes Wanda’s heart ache and curious at the same time. What happened? Does it mean her variant isn’t on a mission as Wanda thought she was?

You start to sob as quietly as you can. Standing behind you, she feels the urge to calm you down even though she doesn’t really know you. Her eyes slowly turn glossy. Wanda can’t help it. Unbeknownst to you, she casted a spell and made herself slowly visible.

“Y/n, I–i’m so sorry for whatever happened to your..uh partner.” She said hesitantly yet full of concern for you as she gently touched your shoulder.

Wanda didn’t think it through. What she just did startled you. You gasp loudly and turn around in a split second very very shocked. Your face instantly loses its color as if you just saw a ghost, the ghost of the love of your life.

“Wa–Wanda? Is..Is..Is that you? No. No. That can’t be you. Who are you?!” You rapidly walk back to whichever direction you can just to get away from Wanda. You start to grab whatever you can reach and throw it at her. The twins’ plastic cup, forks, spatula, coffee mug, even a roll or paper towel. Her magic dodges everything right on time before it hits her. Panic and terrified, your instinct leads your hurried steps to your set of knives. You grab them one by one, and throw it at her with the thought of fighting for your life so you can go save the boys.

Once again, the red wisps do its work. It stops each knife at ease and keeps them frozen still mid air. One of the knives was stopped an inch right before her forehead. You see that she doesn’t even flinch. Wanda grabs it and puts it on the kitchen counter gently and then looks at you.

“Who the fuck are you? You are not Wanda.” you demand answers.

“I am Wanda Maximoff. Who–” Wanda answers but you didn’t let her finish.

“No! You are not Wanda! It’s impossible! My wife died five years ago.” you denied her and your voice starts to break. A little gasp breaks through Wanda’s lips after hearing what you just said but confusion takes over the surprised feelings in her.

The little silence of shocks puzzled you and got you thinking about what she wanted. Your instinct reminds you of your sons right away. “The boys.” You mumble and you quickly run. Unfortunately Wanda’s magic freezes you on the spot and you are floating mid air.

“Let me go! What do you want?!” you confronted her.

‘Tommy and Billy are in their room.” Wanda responds calmly. “What did you do to them?! Please don’t hurt them.” you said while you try to escape yourself from the red magic that limits your movements but it was all in vain.

“They are safe and sound asleep. I’m not a monster. I’m not going to hurt you or them. I will put you down and I just need you to tell me who you are and your life here.” Wanda offers you a one way deal.

Deep down you refuse to agree but it’s for the safety of your sons, you know better not to fight her or anything. You agreed in defeat.

Wanda gently lands you on the floor as she floats smoothly closer to you.

“Now tell me about your life here. No trick and no lies please.” she requested in a very soft voice.

You swallow down your fear hardly before you start telling her your life story. “You look like my wife, Wanda. She’s– she is the most amazing woman I have ever met. I was one of the scientists for S.H.I.E.L.D but then they transferred me to work with Tony and Bruce at the Avengers compound. That was where Wanda and I met.” Your eyes get glossy. Wanda notices your sad expression as she pays attention to everything you say but then you chuckle and smile a little talking more about your beloved deceased wife.

“She was a very shy person but once she got comfortable, she would turn into a very funny, caring and talkative person which made me fall for her. She is a great mother to our boys.” you continue as your hand starts to wipe the tears that slowly overfill your eyes.

“What happened to Vision? Where is he now?” Wanda’s forehead puckered as she asked another question.

You turn your head to her and answer the question with another question. “Who is Vision? I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Vision, he–he was Jarvis and was created during Ultron’s attack on earth 616. Us, Avengers fought him and saved the world back then. Vision became one of us and that’s when Wanda– I–I meant that was when Vision and I got closer but Thanos killed him and uh– we have the boys, Tommy and Billy years after. It’s—It’s—It’s another thing that happened.” Her lips quiver shortly before she exhales a shaky breath while holding her tears back.

What Wanda just said really caught your attention that you shift yourself to face her. “Wait, what? Ultron’s attack? Earth 616? Did you say Jarvis was born? THE Jarvis, as in Tony’s AI? Thanos? Does this mean you are from another universe and the multiverse actually exists?” you start to ramble instant lines of questions.

“Yeah, Ultron. Ultron didn’t invade this universe? What about Thanos? What happened to me–I meant to your wife, Wanda?” Wanda took her turns asking your even more questions.

“Ultron happened here but everything worked out and there was no fight between The Avengers and Ultron in this universe. Jarvis is still Tony’s AI until now.” you explained.

“Tony’s alive? Jarvis still exists here? That’s why I didn’t see Vision here.” Wanda rambles out her thoughts to herself under her breath, connecting the dots.

“No Vision was created and yes, Tony’s still alive. Everybody is still alive, except.. Wanda.” you swallow hard when the memory hits you again, so hard that your heart aches. Sadness shows up in your face again. You feel Wanda’s hand holding you and it’s insanely bizarre that you feel the same comfort that you used to get when your Wanda did it.

“What happened?” Wanda hesitantly asks you with her soft voice.

“Thanos and his army came to attack. The Avengers were at war and fought them. I had a feeling that day, when I saw Wanda fly out of the compound with everybody else that I would never see her again even though she told me that she would come back for me and the boys.” tears start to fill your eyes to the brim slowly.

Wanda doesn’t know what to say when her mind comes up with a conclusion of what happened to your wife but she knows how you feel, she senses a great loss from you. Her heart feels yours aching. Her thumb rubbing the back of your hands and you continue your words.

“I was waiting and waiting and waiting for everybody to come back, for Wanda to come back. The second I saw Natasha and Clint at the door, I knew that—” you pause and swallow the lump in the back of your throat.

“I knew that I had lost her. Natasha told me that Wanda sacrificed herself to defeat Thanos and his army.” with that, you can’t hold your tears back anymore. You break in tears, sobbing your grief out.

Wanda quickly pulls you into her embrace. “Oh, detka. I know how you feel. Grief, loss and death are so hard to accept. Trust me, I know.” you cry even more once you hear Wanda’s voice calling you with the same exact pet names your wife always calls you with.

You asked Wanda more about what happened in her universe and her life. Wanda tells you everything from her childhood, Vision and including what happened at Westview. You both end up talking about everything all night.

Listening to everything that Wanda tells you while seeing her emotions through her eyes touches your heart. Knowing that Wanda lost her parents and twin brother just like your Wanda did brings out all the sympathy you have. It convinces you that this Wanda right in front of you is not a villain. You know your wife would do the same thing that happened in Westview if it happens to her.

“So, you were saying that the Darkhold and Multiverse exist? And you are The Scarlet Witch? There is only one Scarlet Witch in the multiverse and it’s you? This is crazy. I always have a theory that the Multiverse exists. I have been doing research and trying to find it so I can find—”

“Your wife?” Wanda finishes your sentence as if she has the same thoughts as you.

“Yes.” you admit.

“That’s what I was doing. I was so lost and alone. I just want my boys back and live a happy life with them. Then I saw this universe, the boys and you. I–I wanted to see why this universe looked different, no Vision and I didn’t see me either. I meant no harm to you or the boys.” Wanda’s eyes get teary. This time you pull her to a hug to comfort her.

“I understand, Wanda.”

After all the talk at night, the connection between you feels stronger. You agreed to let Wanda come visit to see the boys and you. Wanda humbly accepts even though you requested her not to show up to the boys just yet until you are sure and feel safe around her. All Wanda can do right now is to understand your request and it’s her way to thank you for your thoughtful decision.

Day by day and weeks by weeks, the more you and Wanda spend time together, the stronger the connections between you two. Wanda starts to smile again, so do you.

The hearts know what they want, slowly you and wanda start to fall for each other. You are slowly convinced that it’s time to let Wanda and the boys meet. It melts your heart to see Wanda’s smile when you tell her your decision.

_____

Billy and Tommy sit together waiting for you after you tell them that you need to talk with them. They smile at you right after they see you walk into the living room.

“Mama, we are not in trouble, aren’t we?” Tommy asks anxiously. “No, no you are not, silly. I just have something to tell both of you.” Tommy smiles again in relief after hearing your answer.

“What is it, Ma? Are you okay?” Billy lets out her question with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, sweetheart, yes, I’m okay.” you answered in awe while Wanda watched everything discreetly under the invisible spell. Her heart races with excitement and nervous feelings at the same time.

“Well, Tommy, Billy, do you remember the theory that I always talk with you two about the Multiverse?” This time, it’s your turn pitching a question to them. You clear your throat as if it works to shrug off the nervous feelings you are having right now.

“Yeah, the one that you said you are trying to find?” Billy asks.

“Yes, darling. So, well, guess what? Multiverse exists!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Really?? Wow! That was awesome!” The boys respond with such a thrill. The twins are always interested in what you are working on and sciences. Sometimes you bond with them in the lab and the three of you always have a good time together.

“Wait, so it means there are other variants of me, Tommy and you in the multiverse?” Billy curiously asks you.

You can’t hold back your happy chuckles. “Yes, there are variants of us and also Mommy.”

They both gasp at the same time. “Mommy? Did you see her in the other universe?” Tommy gets closer to you as he asks you.

“Yes, yes I did.” you answered with a smile. Bubbles of joy burst in Wanda’s heart. Warmth spreads in her seeing their positive response.

“Does she look like our mommy, mama? Does–” Billy couldn’t wait her turn to ask you.

“Do you think she knows us, Mama?” Tommy interrupts her twin brother.

“Does she love as much as our Mommy does? Can we see her?” Billy chimed in with more questions. The boys’ voices overlap each other.

“Boys, boys. Okay, okay. Calm down. Wow, you two are very curious, aren’t you?” you giggle. The Maximoff brothers nod their heads rapidly followed by more smiles.

“How about you ask her yourself?” You suggest the idea as you tap their nose gently. Wanda takes it as her cue to show up. Their mouths slightly opened in amazement as soon as they saw Wanda.

“Hello, Billy, Hello Tommy.” Wanda greets them in a shaky voice, as she tries to keep herself together, holding her tears and smiling at the same time. Wanda walks closer to them slowly, trying not to scare them away.

The boys get off the couch and walk quickly to Wanda.

“Whoa, you look like Mommy.” Tommy comments. “I am your mommy, from another universe.” her tears roll down and Wanda quickly wipes it right before she crouches down to their eye level. As hard as you are trying not to cry but this view of Wanda and the boys really gets you. Tears escape the brim of your eyes.

“Can–can we hug you?” Billy shyly asks.

“Of course! Come here.” Wanda cries in happiness and extends her arms welcoming them in her hug. Tommy and Billy hug her hesitant at first but melt into the embrace a few seconds later. Wanda pulled them closer, cherishing every second of it with every piece of her. Tears escaped her eyes as she cried in happiness quietly. She never thought she would ever feel happiness again. Never in her mind since Westfield that she would be able to hug the twins ever again.

Wanda mouthed a thank you to you and seeing how happy, grateful she is, really touches your soul. You could really see the difference compared to how she was the first time you saw her that night. Right now, you could see how she really is, a devoted mom and a gentle loving woman.

The boys pull themselves back a little from the back. “Wow, you look exactly like her.” Billy comments in amazement as his eyes examine Wanda’s resemblance.

“I love both of you as much as your mommy does.” Wanda explains as she wipes her cheeks, a little smile shows up under the wet trails of her tears.

“So, you have your own Tommy and me? Where are they?” Billy asks curiously. You know it’s a hard question for her to answer so you try to stop it by changing the topic. “Billy, Tommy, why don’t you both show mommy–uh I meant uh Wanda the new set of legos you are building. I’m sure she would love to spend time with you two while I’m making dinner for all of us.”

The four of you spend the rest of the evening together. Wanda even helps you to put them to bed. Everything went well. The boys and you bond with her so easily as if there has always been natural connections between all of you, as if she is your wife and the mother of your sons from this universe.

_____

Almost a year after, Wanda still keeps coming back and forth from 616 universe to yours or sometimes she stays some nights there. You and Wanda have been dating for a few months. Everything has been great, the boys and you are getting a lot more comfortable having Wanda around.

Just like Wanda always envisioned before, the three of them often bake together. She gets more involved with the household and all the activities that four of you can do. Showing her around and how everything out there in your universe. There are some adjustments that she has to do but she doesn’t mind it at all.

Sometimes Wanda even goes with you to pick the boys up from school or comes to their theater school play. You and Wanda love each other. It feels like you have known her forever and Wanda finally feels like she’s home, with you and the boys.

Today is your and the boys’ first Christmas morning together with Wanda and it is a big day. You, Billy and Tommy have something planned. A surprise for Wanda.

The four of you are sitting near the fireplace with matching pajamas. You and Wanda smile while watching the boys open their presents. Laughter and joy fill your house.

“Boys, are you ready?” you gave them the cue. They quickly nod and grab a bigger square shape wrapped gift.

“It’s for you, Wanda.” you smile and tell her. Wanda’s cheeks blush and she smiles right away, followed by a little excited chuckles. “Aw, you guys. You don’t have to get me a gift.” she responds.

Wanda opens her gift and smiles. “Aw, did you boys draw this? It’s both of you, mama and…your mommy? Oh all four of you are in front of the fireplace and Christmas tree. This is really cute!” She asks while she looks excited yet confused.

“Yeah, they drew it and I reprint and enlarged it.” you explain while gently rubbing her back. The boys interrupt her thoughts while she is admiring the drawing.

“It’s us with Mama and you.” Tommy and Billy race each other to tell you about the drawing.

Wanda quickly raises her head and looks at the three of you, one by one slowly. “What?” she asks softly, trying to make sure if she heard it right.

“Yeah, it’s four of us just like how we are now.” Tommy added.

“Can we call you Mommy?” Wanda gasps gently as soon as she hears Billy’s question. She is lost at words. Her lips are slightly open, happy tears start to fill up to the brim of her eyes. Before she can even answer, Tommy says another thing.

“Yeah, our Mommy.”

With that the happy tears flow freely. “Yes, I’m always your mommy. You are my boys. Of course you can call me mommy.” Wanda pulls both of them in a tight hug. She closes her eyes, thinking that this is the happiest moment in her life after years of sadness and loneliness.

Little does she know, another surprise is coming. Tommy and Billy slowly get themselves out of Wanda’s warm loving hug and stand up straight, clearing their thoughts as if they are getting ready to do something.

To her surprise, the twins start to sing a song they made specially for her. She is astonished as soon as she hears the words they sing, asking her to move and live with them and with you. The way they call her their mommy in a serenade makes her heart leap. Happiness fills her like sunshine. Wanda can’t stop smiling ear to ear.

As soon as they are done singing, you ask her.

“Wanda, we love you. Will you move here and have a beautiful life with us as one family?” you ask as you look into her eyes and hold both of her hands.

“Yes, mommy! Please! Please! Come live with us and Mama.” Tommy’s and Billy’s thrilled voices overlapped each other as they jumped around in exhilaration.

“That has been my dream since I met all of you here. Yes, of course!” Wanda extends her arms, inviting the three of you into a group hug as a one happy family.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today peeps! I hope you enjoy this piece. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[suiana]

❝ LORD GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE ❞

“i wonder if it’ll be the last”

(gn! reader x yandere! stalker)

The atmosphere was tense as your eyes fluttered between the exit and the bleeding man. No, no no! you were so close to escaping! Shit, why did he have to be so strong?!

"y/n, come back... you're a good darling, yes? I'll forgive you if you just... drop the antics and come back..." the dark haired male slurred as he trudged closer and closer. You felt your palms grow sweatier as you backed up against a cold wall. Shit! he's coming closer! Fuck, if only you didn't treat him like a normal person! If only you had just minded your own business and ignored him! If only-!

Your thoughts raced as you bit your lower lip in frustration. Should you risk it? No, it would be too risky... Fuck it! You have nothing to lose anyways! How strong could a wounded man even be?!

You let out a feral scream as you made a run for the exit. Adrenaline fueling you as you pushed through the pain from the bruises on your legs that were made from previous punishments. Previous punishments from earlier attempts at rebelling and escaping. Well, it doesn't matter anymore because those would go away once you-

"Got you. Did you really think... You were about to leave me? Naughty... How naughty of you... To leave your husband all by himself...?" you yelped as he roughly pulled you by your hair. Your throat burned as you felt yourself get lifted up from the ground as if you weighed nothing. No... You couldn't end like this... How could you lose to a wounded man?! Shit, he's going to chain you up even longer now! There really was no escaping, was there?

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you came to the realisation of how you would never be able to escape him no matter how hard you tried. You felt one of your captor's cold and slender hands rub away your tears, even going as far as to lick them off his hand. God, it was disgusting. But what's even more disgusting is how you failed to run away from a man who was stabbed in the abdomen and was bleeding out.

"Shh... It's alright sweetheart, there's... no need to cry. After all, I'm here to take care of you... Don't worry, I won't punish you. I'm sure you've learnt your lesson... So don't try to run away any more, hm?... I'll be good to you, like I always have, my precious darling ♡"

Yeah, there's no escaping. Don't even dream of it. Don't worry, at least you'll have a dedicated husband by your side until you die. He'll always be there for you, your loving husband. :)

[starshipsofstarlord]

Using You

Summary -> you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, unrequited love (or so Daryl thinks), oral sex (male receiving), shower sex, angst, fluff, mentions of death, swearing, smoking

The bed was cold whilst your body continued to be heated by another, shoved up against the wall, with a large masculine hand covering any sounds that threatened to escape from your lips.

You were lost, the Governor had attacked the prison, leaving all of your friends and family to run for their lives and evade the invading walkers that had entered through the broken fences.

And so here you were, in the home of a stranger that was probably dead, being fucked by the archer, clawing at his broad shoulders to escape the loss of your reality that haunted you each time that you closed your eyes. If anyone could understand the horror that tormented you each time you closed your eyes, it was him.

There was no need for words, there were other distractions that were far more pleasant. And you had found it with his dick inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where you felt lightheaded.

Daryl was your best friend, this was seen as wrong on so many accounts, but since the first time you couldn’t find the strength to not repeat your actions. The initial act had made you addicted to feel your bodies intertwine, however it was all physical. And that was exactly what you craved, any emotions didn’t matter, the chances were that you were going to die out here anyways, so it was in your best interest to enjoy the time that you had while you were alive.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Dar.” You mumbled against his palm, puffs of air from your nose creating friction against his hand, as your eyes began to roll back upon their own accord.

The man that was bringing you so close your release grunted in reply, aware that he would shortly follow with his own euphoric bliss, he mashed his hips closer to your own, wanting nothing more than to be as deep within you as possible.

He continued to thrust, until you reached your peak which gave him the go ahead to race towards his own, quickly pulling out of you before he could fill you up, to his own dismay. And as soon as you were both finished you crawled out from his grasp, standing on your own two legs and shuffling through your clothes, tugging them on to conceal everything that you had already exposed to him.

“Where ya goin’ now?” Daryl shook his head, walking towards you to wrap his burly arms around your waist. You closed your eyes and tugged his grip away from you, reaching into your pocket for the pack of cigarettes that you had found downstairs.

“Outside. You coming Dixon?” You didn’t wait for a response, and he was complied once dressed to follow after you, sitting on the steps of the forest surrounded house.

There was no sign of any walkers, only sparse bodies that you had taken down when finding the hideaway, it made the world almost feel normal, but you couldn’t fool yourself. It would never be the same again, it was a danger just to breathe let alone travel anywhere, you’d learnt that from witnessing how many of your friends had died through the last couple of years.

Daryl looked at your form, taking in every speckle marked on your skin, each scar that peaked out through the articles that you donned upon your body. You were the reason he had kept living, striving for something better, and he needed you to know that… even if it killed him.

“Y/n.” You hummed in reply, not daring to look at him, watching the silent trees in front of you rather than adorning him with attention. “Y/n, I- fuck, I love ya dammit!” That seemed to have gained your focus and you stared at him with wide eyes, Daryl stood, pacing on the shabby porch, waving his hand in your direction, and running the other at the back of his head.

“Never mind. Was a stupid thing ta say, jus’ forget it.” He went to walk inside but you rushed up, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around to face you - his greatest fear. If anyone else would have handled him in such a way, they would have been scared for their life, but you knew him, all the good and bad, and the traumas he had survived through.

“I won’t forget it.” You pried, serving him a sad smile. “But you don’t love me like that, I’m your best friend. You’re just saying that because of the things we’ve been doing, I don’t want you to confuse yourself. You’re allowed to care about someone without it having to be romantic.”

“I ain’t confused.” Daryl stared at the ground, kicking his boots against the rotting wood beneath him. “I love ya, always have. Was just too scared to say it, afraid that you wouldn’t love me back, clearly I was righ’.”

“Daryl don’t.” You warned him, you could feel your heart breaking from the broken, hopeless expression that he weaned in your direction. “It’s- I do love you. I do! But there’s no point in starting something that we won’t get to finish, I’m not going to live forever, not in this world. And the last thing I want is for you to blame yourself if you lose me!”

“You ain’t going nowhere.” Daryl stated, stepping towards you once more, nervously reaching his hand up to embrace your jaw. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. Yer stuck with me.” He would

“We should go back inside.” You flicked the cigarette out and stepped on its stub, prepared to walk past him to enter the doorway, however he stopped you. He leant down, pecking your lips quickly so he wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t reciprocate it. “It’s getting dark.”

You spoke softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside with you. If you were to leave Daryl to his own devices he would no doubt disappear into the woods to clear his loud head, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

Everyone else was already lost, out of sight and possibly deceased. You wouldn’t allow Daryl to leave you, you needed him by your side. If it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the prison that you had called home.

“I ain’t scared of the dark.” He muttered gruffly to himself as he walked over to the kitchen area, rifling through the cupboards to see if he’d missed anything within his initial inspection. “Don’t need ya keeping me locked up like some pet.”

“Daryl, that’s not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, wishing that he could understand your rejection of a relationship. You’d had your heart broken far too many times, despite trusting Daryl, to risk something so important in the new world. “I’m turning in, you can either come and join me, or sleep on the couch. Just stay inside please.”

If he wanted to go hunting in the morning you’d happily go with him. The last thing you wanted was for him to be ran off by some walkers or men with bad intentions like the Governor. You didn’t want to be alone, you couldn’t be alone.

If you were left by yourself, you’d see no point in staying inside. It would mean that you had lost everyone, and you couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Fine. Guess I’ll keep yer bed warm since that’s all you wan’ from me.” You wanted to turn on your heel, to fight back with your own words, but that would only spark his agitated fuse to a whole new extent. To be at each others throats could be the difference between life and death in some worldly situations, and you’d rather live with him hating you than him risking to take a bullet or a bite for you.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you harshly blinked them away; it was always your route of dealing with emotions, to shelter them away. But you were struggling with knowing that Rick may have been beaten to death by that dreadful, power hungry dictator, Carol was god knows where when the prison fell, Judith could…

No. Thinking like that wasn’t helping matters. You couldn’t think of the horrid things that could have taken place after you and Daryl ran.

But guilt was bubbling within you as you thought of how Daryl had opened up to you, and you had outright and in the moment pushed his affection away. You wanted nothing more than him to shamelessly be allowed to love you, but once more, the prison had proved that if anyone chose to care about you they died.

It was exactly the same in the old world. You came into this new one after the outbreak with nobody, and you had found a family of people that would have never interacted in the past. Yet you’d lost your family again. It was heartbreaking, and you’d been foolish enough to practically stab Daryl in the chest.

But he had to understand, somehow it really wasn’t him. It was you. You were a torch that brought a plague of mourning to those that surrounded you, and it wouldn’t be fair for him to pursue the grim reaper herself. Even if he wanted to, he would only end up in more pain.

It would be your time eventually to leave this earth, and it wouldn’t be fair for anyone to miss you. Instead they should in theory be relieved that you were gone, it would mean that their chances of not dying had thickened.

Silently you crawled onto the bed frame, Daryl watched you. You wanted nothing more than to cut into yourself and sob, however you had no intention of doing it when he was present, you had upset him, acting as the victim would only infuriate him. For all the time that you’d known him, if he was resenting someone or something in his mind, he was quick to snap if they pissed him off.

Your head fell onto the pillow as you faced the wall on the left side of the bed, it was large enough for the both of you, and so you felt the mattress dip behind you, from where Daryl had joined you.

It was stupid of you to have pushed him away, you yearned for his arms to encase your waist to comfort both of you, but after your outburst of insecurities, you didn’t deserve it. Not in your eyes, and definitely not in Daryl’s.

To fall asleep easier, you closed your eyes and imagined that you were in the cell block you had taken for your own in the prison, in your bunk without any company. In the morning, you would see all your friends and the people that you had saved from Woodbury eating their rations of breakfast that Daryl had hunted and Rick had farmed. You wished you could remain asleep forever so that you wouldn’t return to the scarce reality where you were picking up your own broken fragments of your shattered mind, and that you could mentally remain in the time where everything was easier and you felt happier.

You had fallen into a deep sleep until the early morning, you groggily sat up, noticing that Daryl was no longer by your side, facing away from you.

He was gone, and it made you panic, until you came to your senses and noticed his crossbow in the corner of the room, and the hush sound of the shower in the room next door. It was a surprise that this place still had access to water and that when the outbreak happened it hadn’t been shut off, it must have had its own power source to conduct such a blissful thing.

And so once your eyes were completely open and you had rubbed the exhaustion and spilt tears from your sleep out of them, you stood, tip toeing towards the bathroom, and noticing that the door wasn’t completely closed, it was ajar just a little, and you could see Daryl’s build stood there under the falling water, the scars on his back enticing you closer.

You shouldn’t have been doing this, you had pushed him away for a reason, but your heart ached to be close to him. You did want him, all of him, in every way there was, but if you started falling down you were certain that you would never stop. It was cease to be something of light of heart, and you would have to mourn someone else that you loved.

He must have heard you, he was swift when it came to tracking, so it came as no surprise. “Wha’ d’ya want?” He asked, eyeing you suspiciously, thinking you only wanted to have another escapade as just friends. You shook your head, eyes threatening to spill over as you realised this was the moment to take the risk. The risk that had your breath getting caught in your throat, and the risk that threatened the happily ever after you dreamed of.

You’d rather be loved by Daryl than have regrets in regards to your friendship. All along you had been fooling yourself, to think that the two of you could ever be less than lovers.

“I meant it when I said I loved you. I’m scared- I want to be with you, I just don’t want to lose you.” He stared at you, watching as you chewed your lip and tugged nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “But we have nothing else to live for than each other. I can’t ignore how I feel, I’ve been doing it for too long.”

The rest that you had gotten had really cleared your head, and as much as you were scared of the future, the priority was to live just another day. “I mean’ what I said, yer stuck wit’ me.” Daryl stated, turning to face you completely through the foggy glass, and your eyes examined the seriousness on his face. “Get in ‘ere, I need ya.”

There was no argument from you, it took you less than a minute to strip yourself of your clothing, aware that this time wouldn’t be a distraction. It would mean more, or everything since the pair of you were lacking any emotional barricades between you now.

You stepped into the shower, walking until your head leant against Daryl’s chest, and his arms encased you, as you mumbled against his skin. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away.”

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.” He replied, holding your face so that he could breathe against your lips. “Didn’ mean anything I said, ‘cept that I love ya. Always have, was jus’ too scared to say it before, figured we had nothin’ more to lose.” He gripped your waist, his knuckles turning white under the cool spray of the shower head as he pulled you flush against him so that you could feel the affect that you had upon his body.

“We don’t.” You agreed, grabbing gently at his shoulders as you met his gaze and the two of you simultaneously leant toward one another. Your lips met, slowly, exploring this newfound feeling of requited love, giving all you had away. Your fears were gone, they didn’t matter anymore, they were locked away in the back of your mind as Daryl effortlessly lifted you up and into his arms, resting you between him and the tiled wall.

“Wish we never had to leave ‘ere, wish we could stay here like this forever,” he spoke against the flesh of your neck as he released kisses to everywhere he could reach. His hand that wasn’t supporting your weight grabbed his cock, tracing the outside of your cunt, causing your breath to hitch, a gasp escaping you as he pushed into you.

He huffed against your warm skin, feeling how your pussy fluttered around his length, as your hands wove through his hair. Once you were fully adjusted, he began to rock into you, pulling in and out, relishing in the glory of your bodies colliding.

Your lips found purchase on his again, silencing the loud moans that threaten to spill over and alert any nearby walkers of your destination. “Fuck. You feel so good Dar.” You whimpered, your eyes closing to avert the falling water from joining the pleasure emitting tears that were spilling, as you felt the notion of love beginning to creep upon you.

Daryl reached down, rubbing at your clit, which causes you to fall over the edge. The edge of endless love, that you had been too frightened to witness. You came around his cock, drenching him with his affection as he pulled out and you instantly dropped to your knees, too weak to stand up.

He leant down to help you, however your mind had different ideas, as you leant forward and shoved his cock in your mouth, gifting the man above you with surprise. His hand rubbed at your scalp adoringly as he heaving inhaled and exhaled, lightly thrusting into your mouth.

You happily choked on his cock as you stared up at him with eager eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum slide down your throat. And the release didn’t stretch out much longer, he emptied his first load since realising that you loved him, and you drank it down without any resentment.

This was all he had wanted, for a long time, to feel as though he mattered more than a tracker and a hunter. He wanted to be loved by the woman of his dreams, and after a dragging of unrequited time, he had finally, for the first time, gotten what he wanted.

You.

[xo-cod]

fluff w simon <33 :') so obsessed w him, lmk if you'd like this w the others 🤍

cw: mentions of his abusive past, babies. also probably ooc/rushed LMAO 🫣

simon riley ♡ who swore to himself that love simply wasn't meant to be in his life after the traumatic past he had to bear now grew to enjoy baking with you, frowning and tutting playfully when your fingers hover over the chocolate chips and placing them on top of the fridge when you keep eating them all. he sighs after a few minutes and gives them back to you, your pout too cute to resist but you make up for it with kisses. they taste sweeter to him anyway <33

simon riley ♡ who worked to the bone as an escape from his personal life, finds himself becoming anxious when he's delayed and suddenly working overtime. he has to try to resist the temptation to become frustrated since he was the second in command and and this was technically the job he had signed up for but the fact that you're waiting for him at home is enough for him to risk everything run straight into your arms. he tries to reign in his impatience but it's hard when every precious minute that ticks by, he could be bundled up in your arms and watching a movie together. he doesn't care which one, so long as it makes you happy. and when he finally does rush back home, the very first thing he does is take you in his arms, ripping away his balaclava to kiss your sleepy face with such tenderness it warms your whole body <33

simon riley ♡ who used to spend the nights alone in his bed, hating to go to sleep because he wouldn't have any restful dreams now looked forwards to the snuggles you'd give him curled up in the bed. needing your body weight on him as if a weighted blanket to help him and keep him calm throughout the night. it's the way your body molds so perfectly to his, your hands interlaced, he can overcome anything like this. such a love wasn't allowed especially in his dangerous line of work. admittedly it was difficult finding the line between work and pleasure. it was hard at first to find the line between simon and ghost but you gave him patience and understanding. something he wasn't used to, something he didn't even think he deserved. you were the first to actually listen and understand his situation. the first to be sympathetic and knowing at how delicate the line had to be. he didn't like lying to you but you never put him in that position to ever do so. his dreams are much sweeter with you now <33

simon riley ♡ who walked around the base with a blank stare, stoic expression now breaks into a small smile whenever he sees you near. there's a lightness around him, the team have noticed. many a times has soap and gaz teased him when he's leaning against his chair risking a slap to the head when they catch the lieutenant deep in thought with crinkled eyes and a soft smile hidden under his mask. he doesn't have the energy to hide it anymore. he rolls his eyes when they make comments but he knows deep down they're true. he's happier with you, he's become better with you. you've got him wrapped your pretty lil finger and don't he know it <33

simon riley ♡ who grew to hate the world around him slowly learnt there was light even in darkness. who carried so much trauma, never experiencing the love of a family held back his own emotions when your parents and siblings accepted him with open arms. getting along with your father, complimenting your mom, all the small kids adoring how funny he was. he found himself looking forwards to next family gathering with your family that now considered him as their own, your mom giving him a gentle hug everytime and him biting his tongue to not cry because he can't remember what his own mothers hug had felt like. but it was similar to this warm feeling he got when he hugged your mom. he could only stand there as the warmness creeps through his heart like a ray of sun, that maybe perhaps this world wasn't as cruel as it once was <33

simon riley ♡ who was always fine doing things himself since he didn't have anyone to rely on now had separation anxiety when you were gone too long. he calms himself down, he's a trained sas soldier but when it's been a while and you're not in close contact, he's prone to becoming anxious. he doesn't want to be clingy or unbearable but you're his anchor in this treacherous world. keeping him grounded when his world has tilted on his axis. his calmness when there's trouble and his relief when the hardships are there. suddenly all the boring and menial tasks such as cooking and shopping are so much fun with you as you both playfully argue over what to buy. he always picks you up a treat no matter what, you're just his love <33

simon riley ♡ who thought his world ended when his mother and tommy died found renewed comfort in a new world waiting for him with you, teary eyed at the end of the aisle. trying to hold back the tears because you look like an angel, an angel he didn't even know if he deserved to have. you always reassure him but as you walk closer and closer, he just wants to take you in his arms and never let you go. the second your hands touch his, a shiver of delight runs through his body and calms his mind. you were his and he was yours, certainly no doubt about it. the years may not have been kind to him but you were a beacon of light throughout it all, this time you were his knight in shining armour. you saved him, even when he didn't realise it <33

and finally, simon riley ♡ who thought it would be him alone in this world now had you and a baby girl. his eyes shining with tears, kissing your forehead as he looks to small little baby sleeping in his huge arms. she was so incredibly small, barely even taking space in one arm. god he was so emotional, the walls that he spent years building around his guarded heart all but melted and crumbled into so many pieces. he looked at you with adoration while you slept in the hospital bed, looking back in his arms and noting all the similarities she bore between the two of you. how he noticed she even shared the same dimple placement just like his mother did, how her eyes crinkled in the same place tommy's did. she was so beautiful, all the parts of his past that he thought he'd lost forever lived on with her. simon sniffled softly, his eyes shining under the hospital lights while his thumb caressed her small forehead gently. he cradled her close to his chest, his heartbeat a soothing lullaby for his little one. his family before may have been snatched cruelly from his fingers but here he made an oath to protect you and his baby until his very last breath.

finally thanking the universe for his rock and now, his baby <33

[dixons-sunshine]

Cuddler | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive themes/slight smut towards the end.

Word count: 617.

A/n: Wanted to post this earlier but the power went out and my phone died, so I went to bed. Anyways, power is back, I'm wide awake at 3am, so I'm finally posting lmao. I hope you like this!

Joshua “Scud” Frohmeyer was known to be clingy when it came to you. Everyone knew it. Blade knew it, Whistler knew it, hell, even you knew it. And you loved your boyfriend for it.

Scud was a hardcore cuddler. It doesn't matter when or where or what you were busy doing, if he wanted cuddles, he was gonna get his cuddles. You've learnt to just go along with it, knowing that he wouldn't stop whining and complaining until he got his way. More often than not, however, you were more than happy to give into his wishes. You loved cuddling your man more than anything, so it was rather easy to convince you to drop what you were doing and wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

Scud loved being held by you. It was his favourite thing in the whole world, except for when you went down on him, but that's something completely different. After long days of doing stuff for Blade and being worked to the bone, the only thing he wants to do is flop down on the bed or couch, on top of you, resting his head against your chest and listening to the steady beating of your heart. And if you ran your fingers through his hair and just talked about your day or read him something from the book you were busy with? He'd be relaxed and asleep within minutes.

Scud preferred being held by you, but that doesn't mean that he didn't hold you. Whenever the two of you were busy in the workshop and the need for cuddles flooded his being, he'd be clinging to you like a monkey to a tree. He'd embrace you from behind and rest his head against your shoulder or back, making it extremely harder for you to work, but you wouldn't ever tell him that. He'd occasionally press a kiss to your exposed skin, whispering to you to just drop what you were doing and go lay down with him.

He also loves spooning you from behind. Pressing his body against yours from behind while cuddling in bed? If he were to die during those moments, he'd die a happy man. Plus, if he was feeling particularly needy during those moments, it was the perfect way to let you know he needed you without having to tell you. Just slowly rutting against you from behind was enough to tell you what he needed from you, and you almost always gave him that.

During sex, Scud has to be holding you. Whether he's the dominant or submissive one, it doesn't matter. His arms always had to be holding you close to him, especially when you rode him.

When you were busy rocking yourself on his dick, he'd have his arms wrapped tightly around you. He'd be in a seated position, his head resting against your shoulder, loud whines and breathless pants escaping him. Your hands would be in his hair, slightly tugging it to gain that downright sinful moans from him. And when he'd finish, you'd be holding him close to you, your arms around him grounding him back to reality.

After sex, Scud was usually the one being held. The both of you would be as naked as the day you were born, and your boyfriend would be sprawled practically on top of you, his arms once again being wrapped tightly around you. You'd softly be playing with his hair, successfully coaxing relaxed sighs from him. That's how he would fall asleep, and it would be some of the best damn sleep he'd ever get.

Joshua “Scud” Frohmeyer is a cuddler, and it was definitely one of his best traits.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle,  but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

~

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

~

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch2

Description- the second chapter! I don’t know if I warned y’all that it’s gonna be the slowest of slow burns. You’re welcome! Anyway, Laika meets the 141 in this chapter and she is terrified of them all! Poor girl. Of course, sweet, handsome Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is the first to gain her trust. 🫶🏼

(Cont from Ch1 - link below)

I stand in a sort of semi-shocked state, just staring at the man. It was probably only for two seconds before he moved and shook me from my stupor, but it felt like time had frozen. I make a dive for the door and have almost made it through before I hear Dr Dimitrov's voice bellow down the hallway. I then feel a rough arm wrap around my waist and a hand cover my mouth. He whispers harshly in my ear "must'a been hiding like a little mouse in here" shaking me slightly to make me move with him into a better defensive position against the incoming tide of guards. I start rapidly shaking my head, trying to fight against his tight hold on my mouth. My eyes wide and terrified.

"Sit still, lass. You'll get us both in trouble." My eyes flash towards his as he starts tying my wrists with a makeshift bandage wrap to keep me secure. "You'll stay behind me - d'ya speak english, lass?". I nod my head. Obedience gets rewarded. That's what I had learnt over the years in this facility.

"You a hostage?" - I shake my head, no.

"Are ya' one of them..?" - my eyes must give me away. Technically, yes, I am one of 'them', but do I want to be? No, I do not. I just stare back at him. His eyes narrow, eyeing me with suspision now.

Dr Dimitrov's voice grows louder, as does the crashing of cell doors and the shouts of "CLEAR" from the guards. The sound of gun shots crashes to life. I’m shaking like a lead. All of a sudden the man's radio crackles. It's the smooth voice again.

"Soap - careful, they're looking for the asset. He's dangerous. Get out of there and clear the area. We have the hallway covered. Over."

He pushes me further back and keeps his large hand tightly around my lower face, squeezing tightly, almost to the point of pain.

"Bit of an issue, Gaz. Found a little lass in a cell. No sign of the asset though. Leaving in five - cover me." I shake my head against his grip. I wanted to tell him. It's me they're after. It's me. I'm the asset. But I'm scared. And obedient. I don't bite. Yes, I am a trained asset with lots of kills to my name, but I don't bite. Before I have time to say anything, I'm shunted by the large man, pushed forward toward the door. Bullets fly - metal and glass shatters and clangs. Everything is blurry. Numb. Apart from the tight hold on my upper arm. Warm. Bruising.

We clear the hallway without too much issue. I'm pushed into another corridor and shoved again to keep me running, faster than I thought I could run with my wrists tightly tied. I gasp, deciding now is as good a time as any, now he hasn't got my mouth covered.

"It's me they want" I breathe

"No, they want the asset. Stay quiet, Lass. We will figure out who you are later." he says roughly.

I shake my head again. "It's me. I'm their asset. They won't stop chasing me. I'm the last one.. Just-"

He cuts me off, shouting into the radio. "I've got the asset. What do I do now?"

"Just shoot me" I whisper. His eyes flash to me over the crackle of his radio.

"Bring him to the exfil point. Is he alive? Over."

"Alive. And She.. He's a she. Over".

The radio goes silent.

"Please. Shoot me. I'm a monster.. Please."

My mouth is covered with another makeshift piece of cloth, fashioned into a gag. I'm pulled off the floor and roughly thrown over his shoulder.

"Shut it, Lass. If I had known you were the asset, you'd be dead already. But orders are orders" He grunts, angrily. A noise escapes my throat, a whine.

The sound of bullets flying begins to dull, the corridors open up to a door - a door that I had never seen before as I had always been transported with a sack over my head. My stomach is sore, his shoulder digs in with every stride he takes. My eyes start to leak. I close my eyes and just sniffle. Weak. Hopeless, again. Not that I ever stopped feeling hopeless in the first place. But, yeah..

I am uncerimoneously slung to the ground and I groan quietly before looking up at the man who had delivered me to whatever fate I now face. He stares back. Blue eyes, dark hair styled in a strange sort of grown out mohawk. Unusual for a soldier. He looks suspicious, or curious. I can't tell. I hadn't been studied like this for a long time. I am utterly predictable to my captors. They knew my triggers and my commands. 'Laika sit, Laika move, Laika shoot, Laika kill, Laika - lick your own wounds, Laika - cage! Bad Laika.'

Every miniscule movement I make is studied by the man with strange hair and blue eyes. I stare back at him with big, wet, sad eyes. I hate being gagged like this, hate being restrained. They do this to me when I am punished for disobedience. He tutts at me. It's a surprising noise to hear coming from him when he had just told me that he would have killed me quicker if he had known it was me.

"Asset secure at exfil point. How far out are you? Over."

"Two minutes, Soap." The reply crackles back.

I continue to stare at him. Two minutes till I'm either killed or tortured. I start to count down. Death would be the best option, but I doubt it would be that easy. I close my eyes and lower my head. I give up. Surrender to whatever is going to happen to me.

I hear three sets of boots approach and smell the thick scent of Alpha. I don't dare open my eyes. I just sniffle quietly with my head down, leaning against the wall where the man with strange hair had dropped me.

"Fuck Soap, is that the asset?"

"Aye, Apparently.."

"Did she put up much fight? We were told she's dangerous."

"Quiet as a wee mouse.."

"You sure it's her.. how do you know..?"

"She said it wis her.. wanted me tae shoot her"

The man, 'Soap', is interrogated by his team. I finally find it in me to open my eyes. I wish I hadn't. I'm surrounded by four massive Alphas, armed up to the eyeballs, all staring down at me. I flinch. I inhale sharply as one of them, with unusual facial hair and a floppy hat, steps forward. I try to shuffle away before a surspisingly gentle hand falls on to my shin, just below my knee.

"Captain John Price.." he nods in greeting. He has a rough voice.

I look down at the ground and try not to shake. He tutts. Why do people keep tutting at me?

The Captain glances back at the others. "Johnny, this ain't no asset. Get the gag and arm restraints off of her. She speak English?"

"Aye Captain, she does. She told me she wis the last one.."

"Can't be. Not this little thing. She doesn't look like she could harm a fly. What is she, Omega?" He sniffs the air, being unusually respectful - usually Alphas just stuck their nose in my neck and inhaled. "Hmm, no scent. Beta." He concludes.

Soap rushes forward to untie me and I flinch away from him. He steadies his approach but tries to grab my wrists again, I dodge his hands again. A smooth voice, the one I recognise from the radio, pipes up.

"Fuck sake, Johnny. You've scared her. C'mon, let me do it."

He steps forward as Soap, or Johnny, retreats. The Captain steps back too.

"It's okay, just going to get these off. Can I touch you?" The man asks softly.

I stare at him with wide eyes before glancing back up at the others in the team. The Captain seemed trustworthy. Fair. Soap, or Johnny, seemed sharp and unpredictable. This one seems calmer, kinder. Looking at him, I find deep brown eyes with vast softness to his expression. He has kind and honest eyes. My head nods. He steps forward again and slowly lowers himself to my level on the ground. He gently takes my wrists and starts removing the restraints. "You aren't going to try anything once these come off?" He hesitates. I shake my head, no. He then nods and removes them completely.

"Ok, now this.. lean forward so I can get the knot at the back of your head". Obedience is rewarded, my brain recalls. I do as I'm told and lean forward, exposing my scent glands in the process due to the position I am in. He respectfully places his hand on the back of my neck and unties the knot, letting the gag fall free.

"There you go, now.. What is your name?" He asks as he stands up slowly and steps one step away to give me space. I stare up at him and answer his question nervously. "L-Laika..?" I sort of question my own answer, not sure what they were wanting to hear.

He looks round at the others and the Captain beckons him over to the others. "Gaz- here a minute" he calls. Gaz obeys and leaves me with a small smile, I just stare back at him. I watch him walk away from me and glance around, trying to think of my options.

It’s only then that I clock the absolute behemoth of a man with a skull mask. He was terrifying, something from nightmares. I find myself shuffling away from the group. Of course, he is the one who notices my movement and quickly makes a move to stop me.

I release a hollow yelp and leap from my position on the floor. I quickly weigh up my options, there is no point of running from him, he would catch me in three strides, no point of fighting him, he is huge and armed. I do the next thing my stupid brain thinks to do and run and hide behind the kind one, Gaz, I think. He looks just as confused as the others. The scary one stops his approach immediately and stands seperated from the group.

"Thought she was about to leg it." he explains to the others in a voice I can only describe as a growl, rough as gravel. He is terrifying.

I whimper from my hiding spot as he continues to stare at me though his mask. Brown eyes, but not kind - his were hard. Gaz slowly turns to face me, as to not startle me again, he lifts his hand and gently touches my arm to try and comfort me - I remove it from his reach. "Sorry, sorry - look, we aren't going to hurt you, okay? I'm not asking you to trust us but we have a lot to talk about. We need to figure out who you are" he explains softly.

"I'm the asset" I say, "They - they call me Laika." His deep brown eyes don't ever leave mine, I feel a fleeting sense of safety staring back at him.

"If you're the asset, we need to take you back and ask questions. You understand that, yeah?" I nod. I then find myself spilling information before I can think of what I am saying.

“It was me.. the other two assets died. I - I killed lots of people but I was told they were bad. They punished me if I disobeyed, if I didn't complete the objectives correctly.." my voice wobbles.

His gaze leaves mine and looks towards his Captain. "Cap.. what -" he is interupted by his Captain.

“We move out. Gaz, she is with you. She obviously trusts you most. We figure this mess out back at base" the pack leader orders.

They all start to move and Gaz turns back to me. "C'mon, stay close to me. I won't let anything happen to you". I scurry behind him. He doesn't say anything but his inner Alpha preens thanks to the fact he is the one you trust.

We turn a couple of street corners and arrive at a black jeep. The Captain jumps into the drivers seat, the masked man in the passenger seat. I pause. Gaz obviously senses my insecurity.

"Would you rather sit in the middle between us" he glances and nods towards Soap "or.. I can sit in the middle so it's just me.." he asks. I stand in silence, shocked that he actually asked what I was comfortable with. I hadn't been asked for my consent for years and it had happened twice with him in the last ten minutes. He was a kind Alpha.

“J-just you… please" I respond nervously. He nods sympathetically and gets in the car, patting the seat next to him for me. Soap climbs into the seat beside Gaz on the other side of the jeep.

I step into the car and close the door behind me. I feel surrounded and claustraphobic. In the small space of the car, the scent of all four men mix and mingles together. It almost burns the back of my throat. This is strange. I'm not usually sensitive to other designations thanks to the supressants.

I notice, as I shuffle in my seat, that the scary one with the mask is seated directly infront of me. Gaz notices, ever observant of my smallest of tells. "It's fine. None of us will try anything. We aren't feral Alpha pieces of shit, okay?" I slowly nod my head "Ok" I whisper.

He smiles at me. I almost smile back.

[consultingskeletondetective]

Virginal, chapter 2

Michael had left you alive, and you couldn't begin to fathom why. You know all you can do is try and forget it and move on with your life.

Except...Michael has followed you home.

masterlist ❤️🖤 ao3

chapter tags: serial killer, murder, death, violence, blood, gore, weapons, knife, female reader, non con, stalking, hair pulling, forced orgasms

The police hadn’t caught him yet.

It had been almost a week since your encounter with Michael Myers in the woods on your way home from work, and he’d been on the run ever since. You hadn’t reported what had happened to the authorities, even if you’d been on the verge of it many times. You’d spent the whole week waking up in cold sweats with a gooey and shameful mess between your legs at the memory of Michael’s large hand on your neck, or the sense-memory of his cock pressed heavy and dangerous against your core. The way he’d used you, fucked you, like his own little plaything haunted you.

No one could know what he’d done to you, no one could know how you felt about it, even if the guilt gnawed at you. Maybe if you’d told someone, they might have caught him by now, and people might still be alive. But there was a part of you, a part of you you wished you didn’t have, that reminded you that if Michael wanted someone dead, then there was nothing any earthly power could do to keep that person alive. Michael left no survivors.

Except for you.

It had been on the news religiously all week; police were baffled by his location and utterly at a loss for his motivations and patterns. Michael, it seemed, cared not a bit to cover his tracks. He even seemed to decorate his murder scenes artistically, propping bodies up and, blurred though they were on the television, reminding you of a sick and gruesome game of action figures. They were Michael’s bodies, to do with as he pleased. Twelve people he’d killed since he found you. Twelve. That the authorities were aware of, anyway. The thought chilled you to the very core.

You’d learnt from the heavy reporting that Michael Myers had been being held at the Westbrook Sanitarium for the criminally insane, not four miles from where you worked, and he’d escaped that night he’d taken you - thrust against your weak body until he came on your cunt like a wild animal. 

You were the first person he’d come across, apparently, and after years of solitude, Michael had some frustrations to take out on you. You knew well who he was, you recognised that mask and that boiler suit the second you’d seen it. You’d grown up with stories of the boogeyman who’d murdered his sister the same as everyone else, thrust into the spotlight when he’d escaped from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium a few years ago and murdered a bunch of teenagers on a spree. You’d seen the youtube video essays and buzzfeed articles on the stoic killing machine who’d baffled psychologists and doctors up and down the country, maybe even the world. You’d walked past books in shops written about this monster, his silence, his rage, his gore and death and damnation were a part of your culture. It made it easy to forget that Michael Myers was real, and not just some fictitious product of a sick mind. He became very real to you that night, your own personal boogeyman.

You’d learnt that Michael Myers was no man, he was an evil spirit, a hell-sent silent demon, a ghost - one that was haunting you. 

You turned the television off and went into the bathroom, shucking your clothes into a messy pile by the bath as you stepped under the cool spray of the shower.

It was a warm day, your skin over-hot, and you welcomed the clammy dribbles down your back. You washed quickly, fingers pressing too familiar over the lips of your pussy, you expected them still to be swollen, puffy from use where Michael had rutted his scorching and elephantine cock against you like a beast in heat, but it wasn’t. It was like it hadn’t happened. Except it had, of course, because you still wore him on your skin. His fingertips were in every bruise, his grip was the ache in your bones with every groan of your sore body. It was like he’d marked you, made your tiny body a part of his eclipsing form. 

You shook your head frustratedly to yourself in the bathroom mirror before flicking the lightswitch off and making your way to your bedroom. You couldn’t think of him every moment for the rest of your life, you couldn’t live in fear of the boogeyman. He had left you alive, and you had to live with that. Michael was gone, and you’d never see him again. 

You pulled a short nightdress on, the flimsy material to combat the hot and sticky night you anticipated, and you made your way to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle to take to bed. 

The outside light was on.

It wasn’t yours, but your neighbours. It was motion-sensored, you knew that because it blinded you every time you stumbled back from a night shift.

You frowned before crossing to the door, to close the blinds over the glass so no one would be able to see into your home in the middle of the night. Your hand tangled in the string before it froze, along with the rest of your body. Like your blood had frozen to ice inside you and made you a dead weight to the floor.

Michael was standing under the light, 50 yards away from your door. He was staring sightlessly at you through the empty eyes of his mask, utterly emotionless. His hands rested unclenched by his sides, his back razor-straight as always. He was just watching. His form gave no indication of how long he’d been there. Maybe hours.

Fear shot through you and the string began to shake violently in your grip as you stared at him. He’d come to finish what he’d started, you realised in horror, he’d noticed his mistake in leaving you alive. Was it so you couldn’t tell the police? Was it just that you needed to die, he’d had you in his grasp and that was that, a rageful itch under his skin that wouldn’t be quenched until your blood was soaking his hands?

It didn’t make sense. He was stood in the street, bathed in your neighbours motion light like a bloody homing beacon. Surely they’d seen him. Surely someone had seen him and called the police? Why weren’t there any sirens? It was deathly quiet. Just you, him and the wind. Maybe it was a fever dream, a sleep paralysis nightmare and your demon had returned to you.

He began walking leisurely towards the door, his pace bone-tinglingly unhurried as ever, before he stopped at the glass and peered down at you. You shrank, paralysed with fear. You’d somehow forgotten just how big he was. He might have been two foot taller than you, and just as broad, taking up the whole of the door so he blacked out any light behind him. That was as good a metaphor as any to describe Michael. The darkness followed him. 

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving, dazzled, you supposed somewhere in the back of your mind. A monster brought to life, in front of you, enough to convince yourself that you were dreaming.

His fist shattered through the glass, shards of glittering ice hitting the kitchen floor as his hand curled down to find the handle. You screamed, backing off so violently your back hit the fridge and tears wept down your cheeks until they were quite literally soaking the front of your nightie. This was no dream. It was a nightmare incarnate. 

Even his violent outburst seemed calm somehow, shattering your backdoor into shards of glass like it was nothing. His large hand found the door handle and began to rattle it, and the noise caused your brain to snap back to where it needed to be.

You forced your eyes from him, pushed yourself away from the fridge and scurried into the living room. The front door was in your sights. You didn’t know precisely what you planned to do with yourself when you got outside, your brain hadn’t made it that far yet. All you knew was that you needed to survive, and you had no chance of that locked in the same cage as this rabid animal.

You grabbed for the front door handle with a hiss of accomplishment, throwing your gaze back over your shoulder to ascertain how much time you had. No time. Michael was already in the living room, walking towards you like he had all the time in the world. You shrieked in pure terror at his towering form as you flung the door wide open, the concrete of your front step was cool on your barefoot but the sensation barely lasted a second as fingers tangled roughly in your hair and yanked you roughly until you fell onto the carpet. The open-palm of Michael’s free hand slammed the front door shut, cutting off your exit, and the oak creaked under the force of it, the foundations of the house damn-near shaking.

You scrambled onto your knees, screeching, crying, grasping at his hand in your hair, wincing when every flex of his fingers yanked at your scalp, tearing individual hairs out by the roots. He had to bend his back to hold you to the floor, his emotionless mask looking down on you. His breathing was barely audible over your devastated screams. You couldn’t move.

“Please, please, please, Michael, please don’t kill me. I didn’t tell anyone, I swear! I won’t! I don’t want to die, please let me go, please, please-”

You could barely beg, your throat hoarse, your words sobs. He didn’t respond except to drag you into the middle of the room by your hair, kicking the coffee table aside to make room for you both in the middle of the floor. One of the wooden legs of your poor table snapped under his boot before he tossed you down like a ragdoll. Your back hit the carpeted floor and it shook your whole frame. You instinctively planted your palms on the floor behind yourself, to crawl back, to spring up, you didn’t know.

Michael’s boot came to rest on your bare thigh, his weight utterly solid and you wailed as he pinned you to the floor. Your nightie had ridden up, not to the point of indecency, but enough that his boot kissed your flesh. You froze as fresh tears streamed down your face, remembering exactly what he’d done the last time he’d had you like this, as if just realising how acutely vulnerable you were in this position. Were you even wearing underwear? You didn’t think so. His boot was mere inches away from your exposed cunt, all he’d have to do was push your dress up and he’d see everything. See how fucking wet you were. You hated yourself.

“Please,” you tried again, voice barely a whisper as you looked up at him. Submissive, you realised, prey before a predator, begging for its life. “What do you want?”

He didn’t move, you could barely tell if he was breathing, just staring down at you as everything else in the world fell away. His hands were still loose by his sides, no knife, you noted, but a grim red-hued dirt on the rough palms of his hands you could identify without too much guesswork. Your stomach rolled.

His hand raised and you jolted, expecting pain, to be struck, stripped, killed. 

How long had he been searching for you? Maybe he’d never left, maybe he’d been one step behind you all week, watching you sleep, watching you shower - were those twelve people dead because they lived close to you? Did you kill them?

His large hand came to rest over the front of his crotch and your mouth fell open. Not again. Why me? You were already shaking your head, breathy hitching sobs racking through you.

“No, Michael, please -”

He toed your thigh with the steel-gap of his boot, shoving it to the side, affectively opening your legs and you wanted to close your eyes, the feeling of vulnerability and shame as he spread your legs for him hurt something deep inside of you, you felt dirty and shameful in every one of your nerves. Your slick was soaking the back of your nightie and probably your carpet too. What the fuck was wrong with you?

He fell to his knees in front of you, in a way that could only have hurt, but he didn’t make a sound as his large, gore-stained hands gripped your bare thighs and tugged until you were lying in front of him. You squeaked, your legs not quite touching his, more left hanging in the air as he scraped his calloused hands down your thighs in a way that definitely didn’t make your heart speed up, no more than it was already hammering, before his palms were flat on your inner thighs, pressing them apart and into the floor. You tried immediately and desperately to close them and his grip on you tightened to the point of extreme pain, your femurs tremoring dangerously like they might snap if you moved even an inch.

You stilled completely, you couldn’t tell where he was looking, but it seemed to be right at you, that emotionless masked expression, or lack of, giving you nothing, but you could feel the rage and the dangerous power wafting off of him, you could feel the coiled strength in his fingers, the strain of his bicep muscles in his boiler suit as he held you immobile and you swallowed, shivering in fear and pitiful acceptance as you stopped struggling. If you had any hope of getting out of this alive, and as uninjured as possible, you had to stop fighting. 

His pathetic, mewling hole, your brain supplied almost bitterly.

Once apparently satisfied you’d stopped struggling, MIchael’s grip on your thighs lessened somewhat, leaving deep red bruises regardless, and he shifted forwards on his knees, taking up more space between your legs, as he rucked your nightie up to your belly, sitting back a little just to stare at your pussy, exposed and dripping and vulnerable, as if getting a good look at the wet little hole that had made him come so hard the last time. 

Your cheeks burned boiling hot as he looked at you, your thighs twitching conspirately to close but you forced yourself to try and calm, utterly impossible, you trembled like a newborn foal.

He dipped his head between your legs and your back arched, startled, wondering what he possibly meant to do, particularly, your horrible brain chipped in, with a mask over his face. You could hear nothing but that breathing, before it was sucked in, the nose of his mask just nudging your folds and making you jolt. 

Was he - was he smelling you? 

He made no noise, his body shifted an inch. What was he doing? It was like he was searching for something. He kept his nose buried against your soaping heat for a few more moments before he apparently found it. Then he was sitting back up again. Your knees were nearly knocking together in terror when his hands, fuck, how were they so big? framed your cunt, pulling at the flesh of the tops of your thighs, spreading your folds, revealing the vulnerable pink flesh of your seam, your clit.

Oh fuck.

He prodded you with a long finger a few times, painful sharp jabs until he caught the rim of your opening and sunk in to the knuckle. It burned, it burned so hot, you clenched painfully around his finger. Fuck, it felt like the size of a cock all on its own. But the finger was withdrawn as quickly as it had breached you, like a fucking dip test, but no less rough on the way out and you grimaced. You had a pretty good idea about what was to follow, and the anticipation of the pain alone was enough to make you cry again. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you tried again pathetically, wondering somewhere in your mind why you were trying to distract him from fucking you, when the alternative was his heavy hands shattering your collarbone until your heart was pierced by your own brittle dagger. Survival, you kept saying to yourself, one day you might believe it, you were trying to live. Nothing else. Nothing else.

He’d already unzipped his boiler suit, you could just glimpse a sliver of pale flesh beneath but he undressed himself no further, reaching down into his trousers and pulling his cock free. 

Fucking hell.

It was a goddamn fucking monster. It sat snug in Michael’s large hand, long and thick, crown red with blood and dribbling precome, it curved up slightly, in a way that was designed to attack that spot inside of you, and when he dropped it, it dipped, bobbing against his boiler suit, so heavy under its own weight it could barely hold itself up, but it did, his cock stood proud and to attention, ready for action, as he shifted down a little, hands once more finding your thighs and hauling you practically into his lap. He threw your legs over his broad hips, stretching your thigh muscles, as his cock rested hot and heavy on your pelvic bone, like a leaden weight on you. Oh fuck, you were so fucked. It was near enough the size of your thigh, and you knew it was going to wreck you.

You jerked your hips uselessly, trying in vain to put some distance between you and Michael’s thick cock, you’d never had a partner that size before, you’d never even had a toy that size. It wasn’t going to fit, it was as simple as that. Except he didn’t care.

He pressed his hips up, taking you with him, lifting your back clean off of the floor so your spine was arched uncomfortably. He paid you no mind as he gripped the base of his erection and slipped himself down through your folds.

He was silent, calm and ferocious as he pressed forward against you with so much pressure that it hurt. You could feel his heaviness hard against your pelvic bone and you trembled in fearful anticipation of what was about to happen.

Finally, Michael found what he was looking for and his thick cockhead breached your hole barely a centimetre but still you gasped, already undone by being so violently penetrated by not even a goddamn inch of that fat unforgiving head. 

Michael surged forward, in triumph perhaps, or just in a hurry to get his cock stuffed deep into you as quickly as possible, but your traitorous cunt was wet enough that he slipped straight back out again, whole cock fucking upwards and jamming through your folds, gliding gloriously against your clit. You let out a loud moan and he stilled entirely except for the throb of his cock against you. You clapped your hands to your mouth and forced your eyes to the ceiling. You hadn’t meant to do that. You didn’t want to give him the sick satisfaction. It was the last thing you could keep for yourself.

Michael was a fast learner, it seemed, because this time he inched a little more slowly inside you until a good inch of solid cock was spearing you open. You thought you might die, knees knocking against his hips helplessly as he forcibly stretched you obscenely around him. You will take me, I will make it fit.

Only when he was firm in you, and you were surely going to pass out from pressure alone, did he plunge his hips forward, his whole cock sinking to the hilt in one brutal thrust. 

The pain, fuck the pain was indescribable, burning, aching, stuffed full, stuffed beyond full - he didn’t care - he didn’t care that he’d probably just ripped you in half, stretched you so full you were more cock than you were yourself anymore. He didn’t care you were crying, shivering, he cared that you were an open, wet heat to warm his cock in. 

Those blood-stained, murderous hands gripped your hips and an ache blossomed in your bones, your skin beneath his skin turned white to red to near-black with bloodied pressure-bruises as he gripped you hard enough you fully believed he intended to shatter bone. He could, you knew he could. It was enough to lose yourself to, you were going to pass out, you were going to die from the stress and agony forced upon your weak and small body. This was how he was going to kill you.

He moved, shifted his heavy length inside you, nudging spots of your flesh where a cock was not meant to be. He pulled out incrementally, shoved back in and oh - oh .

Your thighs shook again, trembled, as spiralling pleasure mixed with pain and your pussy clenched around his cock, contracting around it as he thrust in again, as if traitorously and deliriously pulling him in to you, to where that thick and hot pressure felt the best. He thrust in again, harder than before, faster than before, immediately picking up an athletic, robotic pace as if he were half-way through a marathon fuck, thrumming with energy. You had no time to adjust, no time to build-up - you were there immediately, clenching uncontrollably on Michael Myer’s mercilessly hard cock, your cunt fluttering and clenching on every brutal, animalistic intrusion, until you couldn’t take it anymore. There was no edge, there was just falling.

You yelped, back arching up even more than it already was, legs squeezing the small of Michael’s back as your poor cunt spasmed, coming hot and hard until you felt your own slick dribbling down the backs of your thighs. Michael didn’t stop for a second, he didn’t even slow, you nearly choked on your own spit.

He was utterly devoid of anything, breathing heavy and focused, no movement except the piston of his hips as he fucked you deep and unforgiving until you were sure his thick crown was kissing at your cervix. 

Your head was hazy, eyes unfocused, you had absolutely no control over your overworked cunt anymore, whining pitifully as you came around him again, lathering his cock in your traitorous spend, praying every time that he’d slow, but he didn’t, and you felt that molten lava in your core building again until you were covered in a sheen of your own sweat, spent, exhausted. He didn’t care. He wasn’t done yet, he wanted more. He took it.

He angled his hips up, chasing a sensation, you weren’t prepared for it. He hammered into you until his hip bones were slamming against your inner thighs with enough force to shake your entire body. His cock against your sweet spot was like a punch to the gut and you screamed. Pain, pleasure, you didn’t know anymore as your hips convulsed and jerked, clamping down on him hard enough that if he were a normal man, he wouldn’t have been able to move.

But Michael was no normal man. 

He held your hips down, taking your clenching orgasm for himself as he slammed into you. Being fucked into your leg-shaking release was like being volted off of this ethereal plane and into another, your eyes whitened, your brain slowed to juddering holt as dizzying, mind-numbing ohmyfuckinggodthisfeelssogood short-circuited your entire being.

Michael slammed into you one final time, unable to withstand the vice-like grip of your velvet walls any longer before he was stilling completely, his cock an erupting volcano inside of you that spurted hot white heat against your walls, filling you utterly.

Your mouth opened in shock, or exhaustion, as your whole body trembled, jerking uncontrollably in the aftershocks.

He didn’t linger. His hands left your hips first, the bruises behind ached immediately, black and devastating to your skin where even taking a breath in bothered them. Then he snapped his hips back, swollen cock slipping free of your drenched heat, sopping with white. He let it hang there, between his legs, a stark contrast against his boiler suit, and you trembled with undignified arousal. Your cunt felt wrecked, stretched wide, forced open to accommodate him, and yet your body still somehow ached for more. No, you were terrified, fighting for your life, this wasn’t real. None of it was.

He stood, using core strength alone, leaving your legs to fall heavily to the floor. They ached where the muscles had been stretched, kicking the pain in your back and your hips into eleventh gear. You’d been twisted like a pretzel for too long. You frowned. How long had he been fucking you? It felt like no time at all, it felt like days.

You pulled your nightie down as far as it would go, scrambling your legs together despite the way they twinged. You could feel him squelching between your thighs and your untouched clit twinged pitifully.

When you gathered the courage to look up at him, you saw that he’d tucked himself away and zipped himself back up. He stood tall and menacing over you, gargantuan in your living room, his head near-touching the ceiling. He was peering down at you, that devoid mask giving nothing. The utter silence was as terrifying and deafening as any death cry.

He cocked his head ever so slightly and you winced, fight or flight response, before he was turning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen.

Terror rocked through you, vomit-inducing, head-spinning terror, and you were on your feet in a heartbeat. Your mauled insides and your ruined hips complained at you but you ignored it. They would mean nothing if you were dead. Which you were about to be. He was going for a knife, surely he was. He -

The creak of the kitchen door caught you by surprise, but it took a few long minutes for your heart to stop thudding loud enough for you to realise that he wasn’t coming back in. After a few breaths, your curiosity got the better of you and you crept into the kitchen. The back door was shut, except for the hole gaped in the glass by his fist, of course, and the kitchen was empty.

You were careful with your bare feet to avoid the shards of glass on the floor, not that it would make massive amounts of difference to your ruined body, before you shakily peered through what remained of your door.

The motion detector light was on, the street was empty.

Confusion and shame rocked through you with enough force to make you tumble and you had to grip the countertop to keep yourself upright.

How on earth were you still alive? For a second time? What did the most infamous serial killer in the country get from keeping you alive?

A hot, wet hole to come in.

You could feel the ache between your legs like Michael was still there, it was a glorious, horrible burn, trembling pleasure, irrefutable depravity - the best fuck of your life.

What did that make you?

Everything was eerily quiet. Your water bottle still sat on the side. If it weren’t for the broken door and the shards of glass, it would be easy to imagine that Michael hadn't been there at all.

Except for the warm come dribbling down your thighs where he’d marked his territory inside you. You swallowed. Whether you were his next victim or his fucktoy - you couldn’t escape that you were his. And you knew, even now, with terrifying certainty, that Michael Myers was not going to let you go.

link to chapter 3

[the-saltiest-saltine]

Could you write a Chrollo x kidnapped Reader where he just gentle noncons her after being held captive for months . She just really doesn’t warm up to him as he imagined it to considering she is shy and insecure👉🏼👈🏼

Thank you and I really love your work❤️

I’ll be 100% honest I was not expecting that as my first request lmaooo

I think I went a lil off topic sorry 😭 +  implications are my specialty

Anyways, thanks for the support! Hope you like it <333

Warnings: non/dub-con (implied), yandere

——

There’s nothing for you to be afraid of. You know that.

Well, in the physical sense, at least. Since your first morning waking up in his presence, you’ve been verbally assured of Chrollo’s lack of desire to hurt you. You can’t say that he’s completely lied about that.

Chrollo has never hit you. He’s never pushed you, never slapped you, never grabbed you by the wrist, even when you tried to run away from him.

You’ve only ever attempted that once, many months ago. You’d seen your opportunity and taken it, smart enough to know that the bustling crowds in the heart of York New City are useful tools of both obstruction and disguise.

You weren’t smart enough, however, to understand who you were dealing with.

You’d ditched your iced tea at him - a move that surprised both of you, considering your nature - knocking over the outdoor café chair as you sprinted away into the busy streets. Your limbs moved on impulse, motions imprecise as you expected him to appear in front of you, ruining your chances of freedom before you even had a chance to get your hopes up.

Instead, Chrollo chose to calmly follow you through the city streets with his hands in his pockets. You’d taken a gambling glance over your shoulder once you’d thought you’d created enough distance between predator and prey.

To your horror, he was only about twenty metres away, his fur-lined coat unmissable. His nonchalant attitude was unnerving, to say the least. He was just being an ass, right? That was the reason for his unfazed demeanour.

Narrowly missing an opportunity to stumble over your own feet, you continued your escape.

You took another glance.

Phew. He wasn’t catching up, still the same distance.

You put even more power into your legs, running faster than you’d ever run before. Another glance. Still the same distance. So he’s not catching up, what a relief.

Wait. He wasn’t falling behind, either.

No matter how fast or slow you ran, he was always behind you.

Unlike Chrollo, your endurance had a limit, eventually slowing yourself to a stop by an ice-cream parlour, panting and sweating and wheezing. You neither had the energy nor the gall to fight back as his arms snaked around you, sealing your fate.

He didn’t hurt you. But he hasn’t taken you outside for months, save for your last move into your current residence, a suburban house on the outskirts of Yorbia.

Perhaps he should’ve revelled in your touch more when he collected you. Since then, your anxieties have evidently only increased, shying away from all his touches, no matter how gentle, no matter how necessary. You won’t let him hold your hands, nails bumpy and bitten, or put an arm around your waist, shoving it away as he attempts to squeeze the soft flesh there.

His kisses don’t hurt you. His lips are delicate and his movements are gentle, a stark contrast to the man you know he truly is. Every time he tries, however, you move back on impulse. You can’t help it.

You’re nervous. It’s something he has to consider. If you were outspoken and sassy, he could just gag you. Forcing someone else to speak is leagues more difficult than simply cutting out their tongue. Frustration burns inside of him - you’re obedient in every sense, except for this single obstacle. He wants to touch you without having you back away, frightened out of your mind.

It’s unfortunate it has to come to this, it really is. But alas, you’ve both learnt that you can’t get what you want all the time. 

He stands up, taking precise steps towards you. There’s terror in your eyes as he towers over you, shrivelling yourself up on the sofa. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you, but you know it’ll be horrid. Maybe he’ll kill a family member in front of you for your rejection, or threaten you with his Ben’s Knife, or maybe he’ll even slap you.

Chrollo does not do any of those things.

Instead, he crouches in front of you, caressing your cheek with his hand. Your eyes squeeze shut, trying to relax into his gesture, but your heart beats out of control.

He leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, unreciprocated, before pulling away. It’s not enough. It never was.

You squeak as he throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your shared bedroom, placing you down on the bed eagerly. He’s never been this rough with you, but there’s a first time for everything.

He peppers more kisses over your face, whilst you lie there, frozen in horror. As his kisses trail downwards, along your jaw, you manage to muster a few words out.

“Chrollo, please, st-”

“Just relax,” he coos, voice threatening to waver with anticipation.

You’re whimpering like a beaten dog, pathetic little thing you are.

Your eyes squeeze shut again, tears rolling. “I-I don’t…I can’t…”

“Yes you can, darling,” he coos as he plants delicate kisses up the length of your neck, the soft sensation of his lips adding to the conflict in your chest and mind.

Your words get clogged behind the lump of horror and fear that forms in your throat. Furiously shaking your head, a frantic last resort, you feel your jaw get caught in the web of his splayed fingers. Your eyes open as you feel his warm breath envelop your ear.

“You know what I promised you,” he purrs, “and I intend to keep it. I swear to you, doll, I won’t hurt you.”

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Hello. I hope I'm not bothering you, but I was wondering what's your personal headcanons on the Bayverse Turtles? I may have spelled headcanons wrong, so correct me if I am wrong.

(Dude I always spell headcanons wrong I got you)

Oooh hc time! Random stuff really, but:

Mikey has ADHD and Autism. I mention it very briefly in my tmnt chat fic, but I read a fanfic with this idea and it just fits so much for me. Especially the ADHD, which I think the creator of the movie confirmed somewhere anyway?

Donnie has chronic pain in his upper back/spine area, specifically where the shoulders are. To me, he just seems to have a more awkward, uneven build compared to his brothers - he is thinner and taller, yet his shell is still huge. So i kind of had this hc floating around. Idk if other people like it but eh. Cant be a nerd without a bad back I guess

Mikey and Donnie are definitely the younger brothers. Mikey being almost a full year after Donnie, and Donnie being about half a year after Raph and Leo (who are the same age)

Raph knits. Basically confirmed anyway. Specifically he learnt to knit after they were struck by a particularly harsh winter and needed blankets - Raph, being the only one that wasn’t too weak/in hibernation mode at the time, learnt how to knit to try and protect his family when he couldn’t fight the enemy with punches and kicks. He still knits blankets for them every year when the winter grows cold. They keep every one, so they have the comfiest beds

They share a room. 4 giant turtles crammed into one room with rickety bunk beds and hammocks is very funny to imagine

Leo loves romance movies. In particular the TV movie ones.

Leo had a similar attitude to Raph when he was a child until Splinter went missing for a few days whilst scavenging for food (he was fine in the end…mostly. A hasty escape from a warehouse caused him to injure his leg and be forced to hide until he could gain enough strength to return to his sons). When seeing his brothers grow hungry and scared over the few days he took charge, becoming much more of the Eldest Brother figure.

Mikey idolises Leo. He wants to be just like him one day. He thinks he’s the coolest. (It makes Leo’s comment about his head “always being in the clouds” hurt so much more)

Mikey gets a Klunk eventually, saved from being drowned. Her siblings were not as lucky (yes, I am very much writing a fic for this)

Donnie’s favourite pass time is computer science/programming/IT based activities, like how 2012 Donnie seems to enjoy chemistry the most and 2003 Donnie leans heavily towards engineering.

Leo loves house plants

Raph hates house plants

Donnie is blind as hell without his glasses and spent a lot of his younger years unable to see much. Once he could finally see he suddenly was given a world with endless possibilities and potential

Leo is terrible at technology. I’m talking 80 year old woman bad. He always clicks on scam ads and blows up computers. Something just doesn’t click with him and technology

They all have heavy turtle instincts due to them, like 2003, being just turtles rather than a mix of human dna. This causes them to have instincts and qualities turtles have such as retreating into their shells, brumating (at least partially), chirping, etc.

Donnie has a major sweet tooth

Raph can’t stand most sweet things

As kids, they would spend most their time looking at the human world and pretending they were with them.

Donnie is autistic, and has a lot of stims when he is happy that involve chittering and chirps.

Leo cheats at every video game/board game they play due to the eldest sibling advantage

Mikey loves to draw his own comics

Their Christmas hip hop album is fire

Raph is actually the cook, and is quite good at it. Mikey always burns things or they are undercooked because he’s too impatient, Donnie experiments and Leo blows everything up

That’s all for now!

[honeygrahambitch]

"One day you will have to tell me how your adversity towards lamb meat has commenced." Hannibal said as he watched Will washing the dishes. He grabbed a towel to dry them.

"We had this lamb." The response came unexpectedly. Hannibal believed Will would just make a snarky remark and change the subject, just like he always did when it came to things that were actually deeply rooted. "When I was a kid, I mean. I named him Popcorn."

Hannibal realized the story wouldn't have a happy ending. "Because of what he looked like or did he actually have a preference for popcorn?"

"Both." Will said and even though Hannibal could not see his expression, he could tell there was a bittersweet smile on his lips. "His mother died soon after he was born. And we became very attached to each other. My mom was very much alive but it's not like it made a difference."

Hannibal felt a note of resentment in Will's tone.

"So you and Popcorn were both lonely. You had that in common."

"Indeed. I learnt to sneak him into my bedroom. He even learnt to be quiet when we were inside. He was quite smart now that I think about it." Will took a break for a few seconds and Hannibal noticed the way his fingers tightened their grip on the dish he was holding, his knuckles turning white. "My dad would often get drunk. I learned that hiding into the barn through the sheep was my only escape."

Hannibal frowned at the image of a young Will have to run away from a drunk violent father. He put down the dish he was drying and opened one of the kitchen cabinets. He grabbed a whiskey bottle and two glasses.

"Your mother was distant and your dad was violent."

"My relationship with my dad improved after my mother left one day. He was more sober. Anyway, doctor, this is not about my relationship with my parents, as much as you would love to hear that." Will said and imagined the way Hannibal was smiling, guilty in charge behind him.

"I love to listen to everything you say, Will. I am not only hearing." Hannibal said. "And then?"

"And then what? Ah, right." Will said and cleared his throat. "Popcorn grew at some point so sneaking him indoors became impossible. His horns were showing and he learnt that he could try them on me. Got a lot of bruises cause I never saw him coming."

"Sounds like you ruined a lot of trousers."

"Oh, trust me, I did. I got into a lot of trouble because of that." Will replied and remembered how many times he had tried to make up excuses about why his pants were so messed up. They were poor, but for as kid it didn't make sense why his parents would get so angry.

"One day I came from school and I wanted to go see Popcorn, just like I usually did. It was raining so my dad insisted that I get inside and see Popcorn after dinner."

Hannibal listened in silence as he felt like the story was approaching its end. "We had dinner and then I sneaked out to go look for Popcorn. And I couldn't find him anywhere. So I asked my dad."

"No." Hannibal heard himself whisper.

Will let out a deep sigh.

"He wasn't sober. He laughed and told me that Popcorn was in my stomach by now."

"Oh, dearest."

"So to answer your question, that is why I don't eat lamb. And to answer your unasked question, yes, I would like a glass of whiskey."

When Hannibal said nothing, Will turned to face him. He hadn't moved an inch since Will had finished his story.

"Are you okay?"

"I imagined this would be the way it would end." Hannibal said. "I am sorry you had to go through all of that. Can I ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you decide to tell me now about it? You always brush it off."

"I just felt like sharing it. And I knew you wouldn't find it stupid."

"Darling, of course not." Hannibal said as he welcomed Will into his arms. "And it also answers my other curiosity."

"Which is that?" Will said as he buried himself into Hannibal's shoulder.

"I now understand why you don't eat popcorn either."

"Did you make a list of everything I don't eat?"

"Mentally, yes. I pay lots of attention to your preferences."

"I am not even surprised."

[womp-womp-waa]

It was over. Ashlyn was out of the phantom dimension. It was all over now. She was free.

"Are you happy now?"

Logan's voice interrupted the tranquility of her room. It was silent no music, no voices, no sound, just her breathing. His haunting voice echoed off of the walls, of course something had to break the peace. Turning away from him she tried to find a book to read. She never liked reading, but it's never too late to pick up a hobby, right?

"Awww, come on Ash don't ignore us."

Aiden and Ben were both standing next to eachother. She could not escape them, could she? They were always around her house, they never give her the peace and quiet she needed. Blindly, she grabbed a book. She didn't care what book just give her something to distract herselt with.

"We came here to check up on you. You've just been so distant recently."

"Go away." Was all she muttered in response to Taylor. She opened the book chapter one. Okay, reading is meant to be good for you, right? And it's meant to be relaxing, so if she read she would be relaxed, right? Then she would be left alone, right?

"Don't be rude, carrot"

"Go away" She said it louder this time. She wanted them gone. She needed them gone.

Ashlyn heard them move closer to her. Stop it. Leave. None of you are welcomed here. She wanted to speak, she wanted to yell, but her voice wasn't working.

Their voices started to overlap one another.

"What're you reading?"

"Please don't ignore us."

"Why won't you let us help?"

"You know being inside this much won't help"

"Maybe if you spent more time with us then we wouldn't be-"

"SHUT UP"

She screamed, seemed like her voice finally seemed to work. "AND LEAVE" She needed them gone. Why couldn't they leave?

Suddenly, their worry was replaced with laughter. Cruel. Malicious. Evil. Laughter.

"Awwww you scared, Ash?

"Why are you so surprised?"

"After all it is all your fault."

"Your the reason why we were in that place anyways."

"And your the reason why we're dead."

SHUT UP. SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.SHUT UP.

When she looked up again, they were silent. Standing over her she saw their white, haunted, dead eyes. It was her fault they were gone. She couldn't protect anyone.

Ashlyn could see all of their ugly scars and injuries. Scratches, claw marks, holes. They all started to poor out the crimson blood that she had become all too familiar with over the past year.

It's all your fault

Every single one of them were unique and special in their own way. None of them were similar, that's what made this unlikely group so special to her.

Aiden could always make her smile or laugh. Although, at times he could be unbearably loud for her sensitive ears, he learnt and made an effort. She she learnt as well.

Ben was the first person who she became friends with in their group. He was peaceful, quiet and she knows that it's not his choice but it still meant everything to her.

Logan, who used to be bullied. They let themselves be pushed around by people who didn't understand their worth. And so the group taught them how to fight back, how to stand up for themselves. And seeing that change and witnessing Logan become more confident and comfortable with themselves was magical.

Taylor, one of the sweetest people Ashlyn's ever had the pleasure of meeting (even though she hasn't met that many). Always thinking of others, always buying stuff for people, always being there. She learnt how to dance just for Ashlyn and so she practiced routines with her.

Tyler was the one who people always saw as angry and aggressive. But he was so much more than that. Sure he may have hid behind the aggression, but the amount he cares about people is endless. Tyler cared about his family the most and eventually they all became a part of his family, not that would ever admit it.

They were all so wonderful to be around. They all knew how to make her laugh. They all became eachothers family.

But it was all gone and she will never feel that love again.

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Kᴜɴɪᴋᴜᴢᴜsʜɪ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 1.3k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Fʟᴜғғ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - greeting scaranation. he's been in my twitter feed and tumblr reccs for weeks now. i cant escape him. so why not embrace it? heres a oneshot for that once idle animation he has! credits to my platonic spouse for their wonderful idea <3 anyways, i hope you like this one! ive never played genshin but i've made a character analysis on him to write him accurately, abeilt a bit soft on this oneshot to further showcase what i think his change would be after receiving a vision/being in nahida's care. titled "caring for"! have a good day/night!

The Wanderer likes his Vision more than he'd like to admit, you observed.

Ever since he received it, there's this spark of life in his eyes when he looks at you and a slight upward curve at the corners of his lips. They're not noticeable, but they are to you.

Kunikuzushi cradled that Vision as if it was a baby the first few nights he had it. He wasn't aware you knew since you'd peeked into the room he was temporarily resting in before entering it. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, hands shook uncontrollably. For a while, there was hesitance and doubt that resided in his mind.

Of all people, him? A puppet? Attaining a Vision?

There were times when he would entrust his Vision to you. He was still in denial. Holding that Vision was like holding a piece of burning coal to him. But you were very patient with him, so you cared for his Vision in his stead.

Perhaps he learnt to accept it when he saw you tend to his Vision as if it were him. You occasionally wipe it with a clean piece of cloth, polishing it and showing him the way it shines against the sunlight. When you held it, it was almost mesmerizing. The faint glow of turquoise complimenting the color of your loving eyes, painting beautifully along your features.

He had thought that it would be best if you had a Vision, not him. Eventually, he changed his mind. All because of you, of course.

"You don't want it?" You hummed, rubbing a hand on your chin thoughtfully whilst you stared at his Vision. It prettily fits you more, He wanted to say, but held his tongue and instead hid his face with his hat. "Alright," You quickly accepted which elicited a confused look from Kunikuzushi.

You just laughed softly at his expression, holding the Vision close to your heart. "This is undeniably part of you, and if you don't want it, I'll keep it for you." You say with a sigh, a tender smile etching your lips. "I'll care for it for as long I can, whether you accept it or not."

To the Wanderer, your laugh is comparable to the gentle breeze that greets him every waking morning, making his hair flutter against the wind and his skin quiver from the cold. Your smile radiated warmth, it reminds him of the campfires you two make every single night, where you share meals, talk about whatever, and enjoy the warmth of the dancing flames. It made his hollow chest clench.

He's never snatched something from your hands so fast before. "I was merely testing you," He lies, holding his Vision whilst he stared you down threateningly (not really), "This is mine, you hear?"

Kunikuzushi felt heat crept up his neck when you burst into a fit of giggles, nodding your head in understanding.

More often than not, there's a stride in his walk whenever he's outside with you, freshly obtained Vision placed right on the left side of his chest, where his heart should be. You didn't miss that when he revealed his new outfit to you. He would puff out his chest briefly when he spoke to you, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

Your chest swelled with pride when you see him be so proud of his Vision, finally accepting it as a part of him. It made your grin stretch ear to ear, placing a hand on his bright, glowing Vision.

A hand on his heart.

Kunikuzushi glared at you when you touched his Vision, telling you to; "Get your dirty hands off!" but he never made a move to push you off, nor pulled away from your hand. There was a scowl on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. He invited it warmly with a softened gaze, his own hand wrapping tenderly around your wrist. He fully understood your gesture.

Out of all the people in the world, only you could ever touch his heart.

You were always the first one to notice. He always stares at his Vision with eyes filled with wonder as he drifts off into a daze. He holds it so carefully with his hand and just gets lost in its powerful glow. Today was different, for you couldn't hold back your laughter.

Kunikuzushi snapped out of his little daydream when your pleasant laughs reached his ears, albeit confused as to why you were laughing. His eyes bore into your figure that was not too far away from him, sitting on the grass. He almost melted when he bear witness to your joyous, carefree expression.

"What's so funny?" The Wanderer asks, at a loss. You quickly wiped away a tear that was forming, coughing into your fist as you smiled sheepishly at him, a little embarrassed now he caught you staring.

"Oh, nothing," You stood up from the ground, patting off the grass that stuck on your pants. Walking towards him, you glance at the hand that cradled his Vision. A chuckle escaped your lips and you softly stated; "I just think you just adore that more than you let on."

His eyes trailed down where your eyes were and he tensed, immediately pulling his hand away from his chest and shooting a small glare at you. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He huffs, crossing his arms and turning to look away from you. You don't miss the redness on the tips of his ears.

You giggle, stepping back into his field of vision, a teasing smile on your lips. "Really now? You were cradling it oh-so tenderly, it was as if like it was the most precious thing you've ever seen!" You teased in a singsong voice, further annoying Kunikuzushi. (Not that he actually minds it though.)

"What are you talking about?" He sighs irritably, a brow raised at you. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen." Those words rolled off his tongue smoothly and naturally, but he hadn't meant to say that. The was a pause between the both of you, taken aback. Before you could even react, Kunikuzushi turned away and hid his face once more with his hat from you.

You caught a glimpse of his reddening face. You couldn't help but burst out laughing, holding onto him for support. All the while, the Wanderer grumbled under his breath but willingly assisted in carrying your weight. He may be embarrassed and quite annoyed at your existence at the moment, but he can't have you falling over, can he?

"Awwww, you're so romantic Kuni," You teased, tilting his hat upwards and leaning down close to his face, earning a silent gasp from him. Goodness, he wants to wipe that smug grin off your face. "Don't worry, you're the most precious thing I've ever had the grace to love," You whispered to him, planting a kiss on his nose.

Why does he even let you get away with this? If it were someone else, they'd be dead- err, beaten to a pulp. No one would dare to get too close to him. While he's learning how to mingle with humans, he can't bear to be this close to anyone.

Except for you, of course.

Yeah, his hat couldn't help him hide his flustered face this time. Not when you're holding his cheeks in place and kissing him so passionately on the lips. Before, he reprimanded you for sudden actions like these. But now? Instead, he held onto you tightly, arms wrapped around your neck and pulling you in closer.

He can't have you letting go of him. Of his heart.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[toby-du-coeur]

incomplete list of ways movie!newt could've survived, because

im rewatching tdc and i honestly can't take it and am gonna chew through my own arm in his memory

NEWT DOESN'T TURN

mary makes some extra serum for brenda for the road, & so they have it when newt is infected

since lawrence is gonna sacrifice himself anyway, gally gets the remainder of his serum from him in exchange for breaking into wckd, buying newt time

instead of getting drunk and wandering the halls she is IN CHARGE OF, ava kills janson or does anything else to thwart him & help the kids

there's some serum they're currently running tests on that's outside the vault, and they take a detour sometime in the minho-rescue to get some

gally deep enraged breaths gally takes the fucking serum with him, when he runs from brenda & the kids to go bring thominewt back

thomas kisses him and they cuddle a lot during all the shenanigans. this makes newt less stressed, buying time 😊😊😊

or. hear me out. xanax

during the battle, wckd captures thominewtally and takes them to teresa and ava, who make the serum and cure newt. then they break out

they continue talking to brenda through the walkie-talkie, and when the berg flies over them, they drop down a hook and pick the boys up. since we all know wckd has stormtrooper aim, they make it. and then maybe they pick up teresa from some rooftop

IF NEWT TURNS

thomas [sometime during wckd training, runner training, or vince] has learnt the fireman's carry and is able to carry newt faster and also like.. just let him gnaw on him or whatever if he starts to turn, or knock him out real quick

thomas hears teresa say 'it's your blood,' immediately cuts himself and newt open and does some kind of blood brothers thing, which.. at least shocks newt's system enough that the serum arrives. and then thomas is lowkey bleeding out but newt is back to sanity & sarcasm enough to finish things off

thomas knocks newt out with the gun or like shoots him in the leg, buying time

they've picked up one of those stun serum thingies like janson uses, and use it on newt

thomas sticks the serum in newt in desperation and rage after he's just been knifed, bella cullen style {with plenty of those squishy stabby noises like in breaking dawn} and he comes back to life

[and after that, as teresa's done her same speech over the intercom, newt is reasonable with him so they get thomas' sweet sweet cure blood as well]

they get some serum to newt and escape to the safe haven. teresa and that bit of serum from the napkin survive. newt stays v e r y c a l m and slowly deteriorates for months, living on the bag of serum and their half-botched attempts to make more. and then teresa shows up 😘

teresa doesn't survive, but thomas keeps newt alive with the extra serum until he manages to make a working cure out of sheer grit and bloodloss and memories of wckd, because he loves newt to the point of invention

and the one that i half-genuinely see in the canon film:

the knife misses his heart. {they LITERALLY do not pull the knife out, check for a heartbeat or touch him in any way, it's insane}. the thomas-blood-knife + newt's undying love [*] resurrect him. he battles his way to the safe haven and they can give him that vial of the cure that thomas is left just holding like a loose end <3

[*plus some faint multidimensional influence of the dashner canon that newt apparently IS the cure, which.. afaik how immunity/cure works is that your body produces enzymes that fight it off FOR YOU and therefore can be transferred to fight it off for others.. so what kinda shuck sense does t h a t make]