#putting the guns down [ooc

[steadyclips]

The idea that next generation of the Knight-Doberman conglomerate becomes 80% women… tickles my fancy.

[spooksandshxtguns]

[Happy heart day, Lovelies! I know a lot of people don't really celebrate it, but for those of you who do, I hope you have an amazing day! I'll be around at some point this evening, but I will be on discord and lurking about here and there! LoveYouAll to bits! Stay amazing ❤️❤️]

[drengar]

I meant to be here yesterday but the Rim.World itch got to me so I was streaming that last night for Berto. Today I managed to get off so I'll be here and on my HH blog...While I continue to play Rim.World in the background.

[horrcpedia]

I ended up making this gif of horropedia's gun because I have been thinking about it a lot today, like. His gun is so funny because he doesn't really know how to use a real gun , and I think it's obvious to see in his movements in the way he's covering his eyes and firing blankly - but also the fact in canon lore his gun has an auto aiming system installed into it

[xo-cod]

141 + reader

hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk

nsfw version 🩷

there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️

all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly

whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention

speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵‍💫)

whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙

all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)

i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is

price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters

soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is

you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet

assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)

face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???

ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"

price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"

but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces

assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you

"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink

gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back

"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team

"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them

you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens

gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen

ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down

ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.

but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace

ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3

soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3

price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3

gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3

all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have

each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing

and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants

lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)

each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger

even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety

price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them

they take the training very seriously with you

a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo

if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3

ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.

but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"

if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭

all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")

ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him

price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments

soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses

ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other

price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder

gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by

soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there

but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333

[pompous-pompilidae]

Being An Asshole Is Easy

Being A Bitch Takes Style~

{Dante Marstanzza| Hellaverse OC Blog| Mutuals Only| Semi Selective| 18+}

{Bio| Rules | Headcannons/ Verses}

[lacomandante]

        i think the biggest hang up i have when it comes to writing sharpe fics is the historical accuracy (adhd brain aside).I feel like I have to continuously start and stop bc there is just so much shit to look up and it ruins my creative flow and chips at my confidence. I have more pressure (that admittedly I put on myself, no one else does) bc this is set during a real period of history, I want to get it right. and yet it’s one of the hardest fucking things, imo, to research--but mostly for Teresa.

        i write a character who is a partisan, of which there’s very little primary sources except for those who were nobles and more prominent (ie; espoz y mina) while most were peasants. of those sources, most are either very specific to a region or in old fashioned spanish when spanish is already hard enough for me to read.

        not only that, it’s fucking hard to find anything on spanish culture and society during this time period or just before it. I can find things from the 18th century, but not the turn of the century nor pre-invasion of the French. I specifically had to buy a three volume out of print set of Manners of Spain, 1818 which they had to print and bind by hand bc none exist anymore. It’s so hard to find time period accurate stuff specific to Spain that isn’t about the english regency and it drives me up the wall. its hard to feel confident when there’s so much i don’t know and i feel like i’m groping blindly in the dark when it comes to specific, important aspects of Teresa’s life.

        and then there’s dates, geography, battles, skirmishes, how weapons work, travel, etc. little nuances that to me are important to get right. i’m also not religious at all, so even basic catholic things i know little about which is important culturally as well. i have more to bitch about when it comes to writing teresa but i’m sleepy and can’t remember all of it.

        i do love her though, and i do love writing for this fandom. i’m a whore for nitty gritty details which is why I think it’s such a challenge for me. there’s both too much information and not enough and it’s exhausting to make sure everything’s accurate. trying to write a fic about the retreat from talavera where i’m like, nobody says where in fucking portugal wellington retreats to? which building is it, if it’s in lisbon?? surely someone would note an important place like that. wait, when does sharpe leave to confirm his captaincy? how long is he in england? how will this work on the timeline?

       or like other things- the partisans were so vast and varied information can be all over the place. what was the Moreno wealth built on? why was teresa not married before she married sharpe? Could she have inherited the family business as the eldest daughter? what was she doing in galicia and how does she know vivar, or how did she meet hogan? how important is religion in her life, and how does it change after the french come? how would her transition from lady to partisan be when i don’t have any information on wtf society and culture were like? how would she transition after the war?? so many things

        i think the most important thing for me to remember is that while accuracy can be important (and will bug the shit out of me if i’m not 100% certain) it’s not the end all be all. It’s what the scene is trying to convey that matters the most. i have both the film and the book canon that i can pick and choose from at will to make work. The films leave so much out and yet add a lot in (especially for Teresa- the books are okay, but I’m 100% film based Teresa while adding her brother in), and even the author makes places and events up to get Plot Things happening. I can make shit up to make things happen to and am not beholden to history or accuracy, though i can get close to it. i think i can be forgiven as long as i love the characters and the stories i write for them.

[servicpop]

kinktober extra — gun play leon s. kennedy x bttm male reader

ⓘ neighbour (slight ooc) leon ! clothed leon naked reader ! he puts the gun up your ass

The outbreak was doing you no good, and the fact that you were all alone when all went to hell wasn't helping much either. However, being locked in the safety of your home gave you time to hideout while the worst washed over. Though eventually, you were forced outside to scavenge for food. Unlocking your front door as delicate as tip toeing around a sleeping lion, you quietly stepped outside the comfort of your home.

You were fortunate enough to be greeted with desolate streets; only the occasional ripped up paper or trash rolled across the ground. You had almost nothing, not even a gun, just a baseball bat you bought awhile ago to play with your friends once, only to never touch it again until now. At least you took the time to impale nails to add a little more offense to your weapon.

After some soft crunching of gravel under your feet and walking through eerily quiet roads, you were met with a convenience store. The neon signs were busted and didn't glow anymore but you were able to make out some un-raided shelves behind the shattered windows.

You pushed on the front door, the quiet jingle of the door opening made you jump out your skin for a second, why'd the bell still work despite everything else being broken? You tried to keep your footsteps light, navigating around the fallen shelves and racks on the floor. Seeing a few canned foods still untouched and packets of chips as well as some beverages, you felt a twinge of relief wash over you. This was probably enough for you to not go outside for a few weeks.

You decided to walk behind the register, searching for some candy or others that would be stocked there. With no luck your eyes met the employees only door, slightly ajar. Clutching your bat in your right hand, you slowly opened the door before you were met with a light tap on your forehead. A gun, held by a blonde man who seemed to have seen it all.

“A survivor? I feel like its been ages since I've seen another living human being,” He sighed, lowering his weapon and pulling you into the room by your arm. You felt him pause abruptly once getting a good look at your face and you blinked away your initial fear upon having a gun pointed to your head.

“Oh, you're my neighbour aren't you?” The corners of Leon's lips twitched into a slight curve but not enough to be counted as a wholehearted smile.

“Leon? I thought everyone in the neighbourhood turned,” You on the other hand couldn't help but smile seeing a familiar face after fully believing you were the only human left on earth. You take a small glance around the room, noting the equipment stuffed into one corner and a makeshift sleeping bag as well as a first aid kit that had been visibly used.

You knew he was an agent from having small chats over the fence, and from the looks of things, even those who undergo arduous training suffered — even if it was a little bit more bearable for them than others.

Leon's grip eventually loosens and he turns his back to you as he walks to the far wall, sliding down against it into a seated position. From here, the bandaged up gash on his side peeks out from the rips of his shirt. That's why the glass was as broken as it was, it was a sign of Leon's fight with the undead.

Following in his footsteps you go to sit down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest as you turn to look at him. His eyebags have never been darker and there's a frown that stains his face. Leon breaks the silence while pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it, his gun clacking as he moved.

“So, it's just you?” He questions, and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice. He's never been a good talker, everytime you met him while on a walk thr conversations usually ended with a quick excuse to pull away from it. You blame it on him having to see more horrors than the average person.

“Is that a bad thing?” You mean it in a playful way, placing your hands over your knees as a cushion for your cheek to rest on. You almost burst out laughing when you see Leon tense and you can practically see the panic that he's offended you in his eyes.

“No— No, not at all,” he tries to defend himself.

“Would you rather that flower girl who lives down the street?” It's a running joke that the neighbourhood shares of Leon that the big, cold agent is in love with the soft, florist girl.

He shoots you a glare, one that shows just how many times he's heard it over and over again. Instead of replying, he turns his head with a scoff like a bunny stomping its foot angrily. You brush it off as well after seeing his lack of a response and your eyes draw to the gun that's still held firmly in Leon's hand. It would be handy for you to learn how to use one since the bat won't always be useful.

“Do you think you could maybe teach me how to use that?” You ask almost hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers in a nervous habit.

“The gun?” Leon questions, tilting the gun so he could look at it properly. One part of him doesn't want you to use it, it creates an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach seeing a guy like you hold such a murderous weapon. The other part knows it's for the best, for your own protection when he has to part ways with you. After a minute of just staring at the gun, he finalises his decision.

“Sure, I guess you'll need it in the future,” he groans as he stands back up, hand on his thigh like he was an old man getting up from his rocking chair. He tousels his wispy blonde hair, combing it back with his fingers before focusing his attention on you.

His thick black eyelashes flutter as he stares at your face for a second, walking up to you and caging your hands in his. He guides your hands to the pistol, letting you feel the cold metal to familiarise yourself. He doesn't say a thing while he lets you feel the barrel and the grip. The grip feels almost scratchy which he lightly scoffs at your expression when your fingers ghosted over the texture.

“That's why my hands are all calloused,” he faces his palm up, showing you his toughened palm while he flexes his fingers.

“You have to hold it like this, firm grip, two hands.” Leon helps to guide your hands in place, adjusting your fingers and your wrist.

He whispers under his breath “Just like that,” watching as you hold the gun straight, aiming at the blank wall. You know it's best not to fire, though, that would attract whatever monster lays outside. The gun trembles, shaking like a stripped leaf, and you realise that your hands are quivering. You're not cut out for this. You feel the weight of Leon's hand lower the gun and he gently slips the weapon away from your hands and into his.

“You have to get desensitised to it, who knows what might happen without me,” Leon's eyebrows furrow and his nose creases from the pure thought of you getting captured and held at gun-point. It wasn't far from what could actually happen either considering the law was disregarded the moment people started eating eachothers brains.

Leon raises the pistol and presses the muzzle to your adams apple, feeling it bob from your swallows.

“Does it scare you?” It's not a threatening statement, it's him asking how you really feel having the gun pressed up against your skin. The hitch of your breath goes unnoticed as Leon drags the pistol lower to your chest. With the way he's looking down, you can see his dark eyelashes, a sliver of his muted blue iris' peeked through. He really was handsome.

“Or is it because you trust me that much?” The question jolts you out of your little trance, he was only your neighbour yet you didn't seem to react in fear when he held the gun to you.

“Maybe,” you breath out, letting your gaze flutter to the pistol dragging down your chest. Leon pulls it away before bringing it up and tapping the flat side of the barrel against your cheek. There's a certain look in his eyes, its almost pitiful like a hunter watching the deer caught in the net lay completely still, unfazed.

Leon leans closer to your face, his nose practically brushing against yours. You could almost make out the faint breaths if you listened close enough and you see his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he swallowed thickly.

“I think you're liking this a little too much,” he mutters, tilting his head slightly to the right as he looks down at you, his hair falling to the direction he moves his head at. The way Leon speaks now is hushed, sultry even. He's only half joking, he sees the way your eyelids flicker a little too rapidly when he glides the muzzle over your clothes.

Your face flushes, realising that he's caught on your little inner turmoil.

“It's just the adrenaline.” You swallow your lie like it's medication; it's hard to go unnoticed when you so obviously gulp. It's not fully a lie though — you've read in a previous article things like erections can happen due to adrenaline. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost like you're preparing to be scolded by Leon.

But all you're met with is a small sigh and a shake of his head.

“If you want it, do it quickly, we won't have time to indulge in distractions in the heat of things.” Your eyes fling open, caught off guard by the fact that the Leon, your neighbour, just gave you the greenlight. You look up at him through your lashes and he returns your gaze with a small glint of reciprocating desire. The absence of an opportunity for sex really catches up when you're surrounded by infected and never in a safe position.

Before you can even say anything, Leon is already slipping off your shirt; your jacket had already been discarded when you entered the employee's only room. He takes a moment to skim over your naked body, observing all the dips and curves, and the fact that your blush reaches all the way down to your shoulders. He brushes the muzzle over your chest, and upon seeing you shiver at the coolness, a smirk quirks on his lips.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,”

You whine, gripping his forearm in a lousy attempt to stop him from rubbing the metal on your nipple. It doesn't stop him though, he gently grazes your perky buds, chuckling softly as he watches your eyebrows knit from the feeling.

“Sorry then,” he hums with amusement coloring his tone. Leon's breath becomes shallower as he trails the gun down along the line in the middle of your abdomen, all the way down to your pants.

“You're going to be the death of me,” He grunts out, delicately guiding you to lean against the wall. His arm is wrapped so securely around your back like a warm embrace. The warmth of his arm around your bare back shields you from the frigid material of the wall but the second he slips it away from you your back arches off uncomfortably.

“Bare it,” Leon pushes you back against the wall and you whimper at the cold. Its somewhat cruel how he's doing this but you understand its to get your body used to the harsh changes in environments. He mumbled small praises that are inaudible to your ears but you can barely make out the words 'good boy.'

His fingers tug at your zipper, pulling it down but you reach out to stop him, noticing how he's not taking any of his clothes off. Like he was reading your mind, Leon scoffs with a small smirk.

“I can't, it's too risky to have to put anything on if we get ambushed,” He links his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your boxers, stretching it out a bit before pulling them down to rest at your mid thigh.

“But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself,” He places one arm at the side of your head, caging it in, and his other weilds the pistol. He can't take off his clothes so he can't fuck you properly but he resorts to using his gun instead. It's shameless with the way he's spreading the soft flesh of your thighs apart with a gun like he was slotting his dick between them.

His eyes aren't on you, they're on your body, carefully sliding the hunk of metal against your hole. It almost hurts with how dry and cold the metal feels against your skin but you don't complain. Leon muses when he sees your cock twitch when he slides the muzzle up from the base to your pink tip. He quirks an eyebrow at you, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Feels weird doesn't it? Promise once we're out of this shithole I'll give you everything you want,” Again, Leon goes off about something in the future. He's thinking of a future with you after things smooth over, you can't help but bite back the small moan you were going to let out. His bangs are now covering his eyes when he returns his gaze to your lower half.

Your hips instinctively move against the barrel of the gun, sliding yourself against it. Its like the pleasure is almost there but not really, its left you struggling to find good friction. Leon notices your strangled whines and contorted face and he feels slightly guilty for not being able to give you the relief you definitely need.

He spits on the gun, lubing it up and taking a mental note to polish and clean it afterwards. Leon tilts the muzzle up, wriggling it past your tight rim. When the tip of gun enters you, you gasp, straightening your body from the foreign object being stuffed in your ass.

“Leon—” your voice cracks.

“Trust me.”

He can hear the slight panic in your voice and his palm moves to cover your eyes. You're squirming, unsure of whether to lean in or pull away from the sensation. He pushes himself up against you to keep you still since his hands are already full. Leon groans gently at how much warmth he can feel seeping into his clothes from your body heat.

He slowly pushes the gun further, tuning into the soft squelching sounds of the metal making its way through your walls. Leon couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of how his pistol was able to feel your wet walls clenching around it rather than himself.

“Shit, you're taking it better than I thought,” He grumbled under his breath, thrusting the metal into you, attempting to push it even deeper to find your sweet spot. Leon finally moved his hands from your eyes and placed his hand on your waist, extending his thumb to rub circles over your stomach. He twists the gun inside you, flushing against your prostate. The sudden jolt of pleasure caused you to cry out and reach to grab his shoulders.

He pushed against your prostate a few times, observing how your eyes would water with each thrust and how your teeth would bite down even harder on your bottom lip the more he hit that specific spot. He slowly pulled the gun fully out with a small pop.

“Didn't know that would work,” He joked lightly, slotting the gun between your legs once more and squeezing your thighs together. He threw the gun from one hand into the other, gripping the pistol in his left hand. Leon slid his ring and middle finger alongside your ass, dipping down the curve to meet your already stretched hole. He dipped his fingers inside, already burying his fingers up to his knuckles.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers up to press against the deepest parts of you. Leon dragged the gun back and forth between your thighs, letting you hump the metal like a dog.

“Attaboy,” he chuckled darkly, moving his fingers faster, practically slapping his palm against your tail bone as he fingered you from behind. Pre-cum started to bead off your slit and smeared all over Leon's gun.

“You're already getting so wet,” he shook his head, feigning disappointment as he moved the gun to trace your tip, ghosting over your skin.

You whined and thrashed from the ticklish sensation, but when you tried to lean away from it, you ended up pushing up against Leon's fingers, letting them reach even deeper.

“Leon,” you mewl, gripping his shoulders desperately as your dick twitches feverishly. “'M gonna cum.”

Your soft whimpers undoubtedly got his dick hard and he swore if you kept up with the whining he'd really just take off his pants and fuck the life out of you. Leon didn't respond, he just swallowed a groan and curled his fingers to your prostate.

Feeling that familiar spark in your veins, your body convulsed and you let out a high-pitched moan, blanking out as you shot ropes of cum out, dirtying Leon's gun with white.

“I got you, I got you, don't worry,” He felt your legs give out and quickly caught you, letting you lean on him while you came down from your high. Leon pulled the gun from your legs, turning it side to side and watching as your semen dripped down the sides.

Would it even work anymore?

[asscaverns]

Long Time Coming - Daryl Dixon x FEM!reader

Synopsis: Reader and Daryl have been together for a long time, but have never been able to have sex. 3.8k words

minors dni/18+

Warnings: smut, fluff. So much praise! Oral f!receiving. Protected sex (kinda? they use a condom but it's expired bc duh). Daryl cums fast. I've never written smut before, I've never published anything either so go easy on me. Probably OOC Daryl. Not great writing, sorry.

“It’s quiet,” Daryl starts from his position on the couch, one of his legs propped up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, it’s a little unsettling. Even back in the prison there was always growling, or Beth singing, or Carol snoring all night,” you joke lightly mimicking her snores. You plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned into him, making him put an arm around your shoulders. “It feels safe though, yeah? Safest I've felt since the outbreak at least,” you wonder out loud, trying to gauge his feelings of your new home. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he pauses. “Just feels like I'm waiting for the shoe, y'know.” 

“The other shoe?” You ask, laying your hand on his knee, glancing up at him.

“Mhm, waitin’ for the shoe to drop.” 

You hum in understanding. “I think. . .” you trailed off thinking of your next words carefully, “I think, there’s no use in just sittin around and waiting. Maybe we should enjoy what we have, while we have it.” 

He sat up and turns to look at you like you were crazy. “And what? What about when these picket fence bastards decide we’re not good enough, we don’t contribute enough, or whatever the hell other reason they decide is fit enough to throw us to the wolves? We just let them blindside us?” he seemed incredulous. 

“No, honey, of course not. I’m just saying,” you take a deep breath trying to make sure you are clear. “This is maybe our last chance, our only chance, to live a life without running from the dead every damn day. We got used to that, it was, or maybe it still is, our new normal, but this can be too.”

“I understand, sweetheart, I'm just. . .” he trails off. 

“Nervous? On edge?” you finish for him after a moment. 

“You could say that,” he answers, picking up a cup of water off the coffee table, taking a sip, and sitting it back down, then leaning back onto the couch and throwing an arm over your shoulder again. 

“I know. You run for your life, hunker down in empty houses, broke down cars, and caves for lord knows how long. Next thing you know, someone offers you not only a home, but a house? To ourselves? And food, water, walls and defenses, plus people patrolling 24/7? It’s a big change, but this is the safest we’ve been for a while. I just think we should enjoy it while we can. We can stay on edge, sleep with a gun under our pillow or whatever, but we should enjoy what we have while we have it. We can live here for a while, when shit hits the fan we can run, like we always have.” 

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right, y/n,” he admits, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Kinda boring though, innit? This whole ‘american dream’ life.” 

You glanced at him and saw a small smile. “Boring?” you giggle, “I can think of something to entertain us.” You slide your hand from your lap over to his, putting your hand back on his knee and sliding it half way up his thigh. 

“Yeah? What’s that sweetheart?” He questions innocently, but you can see the way his cheeks are redder than earlier, and you can see the way he looks at your lips. 

You jumped up and offered him your hand with a wink, “Come with me and I'll show you.”

“Don’ need to ask me twice,” he jumped to his feet, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him up the stairs and into the bathroom. You open the door with your spare hand and spin around pulling at his shirt and winking at him. 

“Oh I get it, you just want to see me naked, don’ ya?” Daryl teased, pulling his t-shirt off. 

“You know I do, baby,” you flirted, grabbing his naked waist and pulling him closer for a moment, before pushing him away and leaning over to start the water, Daryl taking the opportunity to smack your ass. You giggle and turn around with your finger pointed, ready to scold him jokingly, but he grabs your hips before you can. He yanks you into his chest and kisses you hard, trying to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

“At least let me get in the shower first, you horny bastard!” You laugh at him and pull away, yanking your shirt over your head and pulling your pants down and off. You feel the water to test its temperature and upon deciding it warm enough, you turn around to see him still in his pants. You reach towards his belt and pull on it, “You joining? Or are you gonna stand there and watch?” 

“I’m happy to watch but I’d much rather join,” he responds, watching you step into the warm water. He tugs his belt undone and his pants down while you turn and let the water run over you. 

Truth is, you were a little nervous, you knew what you were initiating. Sure you’d spent most of the apocalypse together, started ‘dating’ not long after arriving at the prison. Though you’d never officially talked labels, it’s been long assumed, by you and the rest of the group, that you were together. So, you’ve been ‘together’ a long time, but despite that you’d never really gone farther than oral or handjobs. If you’d had the time, then you hadn’t had the solitude. If you’d had the solitude, then you hadn’t had the safety. If you’d had the safety, then you hadn’t had the time. It had worked out fine, in the midst of the end of the world, sexual frustration wasn’t your biggest concern, you’d go as far as to say it wasn’t even in the top 15. This was your third night alone in Alexandria, your group had all slept in the same house for a while before gradually settling into your own. 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this, huh?” you question, rubbing soap all over your body. You feel his arms wrap around you and pull your back to his chest, you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re sexier every time,” he whispers, nipping at your ear. His hands grab the fat of your hips and grip it to pull you even closer.

“Really? You don’t think I looked better when we were covered in walker guts and months of filth?” You tease him, pushing away and signaling for him to turn his back to you, and begin to clean his back with a soapy towel. 

“You get prettier every day, Y/N, with or without running water,” he hums out, enjoying the soft scratch of the washcloth on his body. It had taken him a long time to get comfortable being this vulnerable, but years of relying on each other has built a trust unlike any other in his life. He trusts you fully, to see him wholly and unfiltered, who he truly was inside and out. 

 Once you both had been scrubbed you wrap your arms around his neck and push him against the wall. You brush your lips over his, testing the waters first. He grabs your face and spins you around, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth and pull him closer. His arms wind around your waist when his tongue slips into your mouth, your grasp the hair at the base of his neck tightly in your fingers when you feel his leg slot between yours. 

You grind down on his leg and gasp, throwing your head back against the wall. He takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking little marks on your collar bones. You feel his hand slide from your waist up your torso to grab at your breast and your hands grab at the strong muscles of his back. He kneads your soft breast before rubbing your nipple with his thumb, he places sloppy kisses on the junction of your neck and down your shoulder. You whimper and grind harder on his leg when he pinches your nipple between his fingers, Daryl kisses back up your neck and puts his hands on either side of your face, pulling it to his to kiss it harshly. 

“Please, Daryl, I want you,” you whimper against his lips, he hums into your mouth and slips his tongue into your mouth. “Daryl, please,” you whine as he willfully ignores your begging. 

You keep kissing, clawing at his back with your short nails, just trying to pull him impossibly closer to you, his arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you down on his leg to help you grind harder against his knee. One of his arms abandons your waist to grab a fistful of your wet hair and he lets it tangle around his fingers, while he kisses you even deeper. 

“You ready to get outta here, pretty girl?” He smirks at you. Before waiting for your answer he shuts the water off, grumbling about how you’re just gonna have to take another one later, and slides open the curtain. Daryl steps out and hands you a towel. 

You rush past him into the bedroom, drying off and discarding your towel, then jumping on your shared bed. He walks in a few moments later, dropping the towel he had wrapped around his waist. You whistle at him teasingly, “How on earth did I get so lucky?” 

He chuckles at you and sits on the bed beside your feet, running his hands up your calf, “I think I should be the one asking that, Y/N.” He crawls up to your body, pressing light kisses from your knees to your neck. If it weren’t for the lust in his eyes and the way he looks at you like you were prettiest damn woman he’s ever seen you might feel insecurity creeping in.

Daryl pecks your mouth, leaving you chasing his mouth until kisses back down your stomach, notching himself between your thighs. He peppers kisses all over the inside of your thighs, avoiding the one place you’re needing him the most. He finally caves, running his thumb up your slit, brushing away the soft hair that covers your cunt. 

“You’re the sexiest damn woman I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, not giving you a chance to respond before he dives in, placing one long lick from your hole to your clit. The surprise movement leaves you gasping and squeezing his head between his thighs, which he softly pushes away. He does another long lick before focusing on your clit, alternating between gentle licks and circling it with his tongue. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, smiling when he hears you whimpering above him. He goes back to gentle licks and sucks, Daryl moves farther south until licking at our hole, he looks up at you for approval and instead sees a sight so beautiful he wonders what he did to deserve this. You, your back arched the perfect amount for him to see the soft expanse of your stomach leading to your breasts that were pushed into the air, one hand grasping clumsily at one of them, pulling at your nipple. With the image of you and your salty taste on his tongue he swore he could bust right then and there. 

Daryl pushes his tongue into your hole, the mix of your wetness and his saliva creating a mess of your groin. He fucks his tongue into you, soft and steady. 

It’s so much, his wet tongue sliding in and out of you, his hands gripping your thighs, his nose nudging your clit every now and then. It was too much and not enough. You gasp out, “Oh, my god, Daryl,” between your moans and heavy breathing. “D, you feel so good, I need more, please.” 

He moves one hand from your thigh up to your mouth, pulling away to whisper, “suck on my fingers, baby.” You oblige, leaning forward eagerly to pull his thick fingers into your mouth and moan around them when he uses his other hand to squeeze your thigh. He fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth, coming up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue mingles with yours around his fingers. He pulls his fingers out and drops them to your cunt, using them to circle your clit, then sliding one inside of you, swallowing your gasps and moans in your shared kiss. He works his second finger into your pussy and abandons your lips to kiss down your chest, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth briefly, but then continuing all the way back to your clit. Your hands grasp at his hair and push his face into your cunt, his tongue going back to playing with your clit while his eyes flicker up to see yours squeezed shut and mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Your hands wind in his hair so you have something to hold on to, his tongue and fingers making your head swim. He could ask you anything right now and you’d do it in a heartbeat as long as he didn’t stop. His fingers stretched you open just right and the drag of his knuckles in your pussy had you gasping for air. 

His fingers were fucking into you hard enough in just the right spot that you were breathless, gasping each time they hit that spot. He groaned against your cunt and it left you whining and grinding against him, his spare arm wrapped around your hips drawing you even closer and holding you still against his mouth. He pulled away from you, protests falling from your lips at his withdrawal, “You’re doin’ so good for me, Y/N, sound so fuckin’ pretty. Perfect little cunt too, you know how much I love eating your pussy, don’ ya, baby?’ He draws, pressing more kisses and sucking little marks against the sensitive parts of your thighs, while his fingers slowly thrust in and out of you. You hum in response, hands trying to pull his head back to where you want- no need him most. “I want you to tell me, Y/N, tell me what you want,’ He insists, his dark, brown eyes boring into yours. 

“You- you know what I want, honey,” you reply, face heating up, suddenly feeling almost bashful at your desperation for your partner. He pulls his fingers out of you at your less-than-satisfactory response. 

“Oh, I do, baby, trust me,” he insists. “But I need to hear you say it. I want to hear you. Don’t go getting shy on me now. There’s no reason to, I know you love when I give you head, you know how much I adore buryin’ my head between your sexy thighs, feeling them squeeze me while i devour you,” he pauses to slide his fingers back into you, smiling at your quiet moan. “Hell, you should see the mess my cock is makin’ down here, leaking all over the blanket I just washed. I’m humping the bed like a damn virgin while I’m tongue deep in your pussy, sweetheart. I can feel how close you are, clenchin’ like a vice on my fingers. Now I’d love to have you make a mess on my face, but I want you to tell me what you want first. No need in getting all bashful, sweetheart, we’ve been here a dozen times before. Want to see your pretty face when you tell me, too.”

You lean up on your elbows, head foggy with need. “Daryl, I need you to make me cum, make me- make me cum all over your face,” you manage to stutter out. “Then, I need you to fuck-” your words are interrupted by a broken gasp as he dives back in, licking and sucking at your clit for all his worth. Your arms give out from behind making you drop onto your back, arching it and trying to wriggle your hips against his hold and let out breathless praises for the man eating you out like his life depends on it. 

“Fuck! Daryl, you make me feel so good,” you gasp out when he goes back to licking circles on your clit. His fingers are curling into you just right, his tongue is circling your clit perfectly, your mind is buzzing and all you can think about is him. You feel your orgasm creeping up, warmth building and muscles tightening.  “I- I’m so close, I-, oh my god, just like that, baby. Fuck, Daryl, please!” 

You let out more whimpers and moans, a few nearly incoherent begs, although what you were begging for was unclear, all you knew is that you were so, so close to cumming on the fingers of the man you loved more than anything. Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, which makes him groan into you and grind harder against the blanket under him, the vibrations of his groan make you buck your hips, so he tightens his hold on you. He was lapping at your cunt like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His fingers are pressing harder into you with every little thrust and you’re sobbing out as your orgasm finally washes over you. You can feel the pleasure wash over your body, making chills erupt all over you, the heat that’s been building in your core finally explodes and you’re shaking all over, back almost arching off the bed as he keeps lapping at you. You cunt is milking his fingers, legs shaking around his head as you moan out little gasps of his name. His fingers fuck you through the shock waves of your orgasm, but he doesn’t stop his movements. Your moans turn into little high pitched gasps when he pulls his fingers out of you once you stop pulsing around them, only to slide his tongue into your opening and fuck into you. It’s all too much, you can feel the rough drag of stubble on your soft inner thighs and his harsh grip on your ass as you come back down to reality. He finally lets up when you start to pull away from him and your grip on his hair loosens. He pulls away from you, his face glistening in the soft moon light peering in from the window. You grab at the back of his head and yank him into a rough kiss, tongues clash and the taste of your fluids on his lips and tongue make you moan into his mouth again. 

“You’re too good for me, Daryl, honestly. You’re so good with your mouth, I’d let you eat me out for hours,” you breathlessly praise him once he pulls away to catch his breath, letting his forehead rest on yours. 

“That can be arranged, darling,” he muses, starting to lower himself back to your pussy. 

“No! No, not right now. I need you. I need more of you. I want your cock, please, Daryl,” you stutter, desperation fogging your brain. “Lay down, let me blow you.”

“No, sunshine, I’m not gonna last that long,” he insists, hissing when your hand wraps around his aching dick, using his own precum to stroke loosely. You reach into your bedside drawer for the condoms you had placed there a few days ago, they were past the expiration date, but it’s not like you can find any new ones any more, you had both decided you might as well try to use the protection. 

“You sure?” You ask, looking at him with hooded eyes, licking your lips and ripping open the condom. 

“Yes, Y/N,” he affirms. You slide the condom down his length and then use that hand to guide his cock to your entrance. 

You can’t help but notice his shaky breath and the way his hands are shaking beside your head, “Daryl, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop now, we can go to bed, or I can jerk you off, if you’d rather wait.” 

“I want to fuck ya, it’s just. . .” he trails off. 

“Been a long time?” You finish for him. He nods to confirm your suspicion. 

Before you can respond he begins to push into you, your pussy aching as he stretches you out, feeling every vein of his cock as it fills you up to the hilt. Above you, he’s grunting, arms damn near giving out as he rests most of his weight on you. He’s grunting into your ear, muttering a quiet “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he adjusts to the tightness of your pussy around him, as you grind and squeeze against him, your body begging for me. 

“Hey, sunshine, look at me,” he’s leaning back to look you in the eye, once he got his bearings He brushes the hair out of your eyes, presses a kiss to your nose. “You feel good, better than I coulda imagined.” 

“Please, Daryl.”

In lieu of a response, he crashes his lips on yours. Pulling out almost completely and pushing back in with a broken moan, your hand flies to his hair as he begins to rut into you. Short, fast thrusts that leave you gasping with your arms tight around his shoulders. He slows his pace when your nails start to scratch down his back. “I-I’m not gonna last long, y/n,” he moans, pulling all the way back and then thrusting back into you hard. 

“That’s perfect, baby, please, that’s all I want. Jus’ want to make you feel good, yeah?” You pant out. Your legs wrapped tightly around him, his thrusts hitting so deep inside of you, you were seeing stars, his hips pushing flush against your own, you could feel his balls slap against your ass. He drops his head to kiss and suck on your neck, you tighten around him and reach down to rub our clit. 

Daryl’s moans and thrusts get more erratic, a sign you know means he’s close. “Fuck, baby, I-” he gasps out. 

“I know, I know, me too.” 

“I’m sorry, you just feel so damn good-” 

“Shut up and let me feel you cum inside of me,” you demand, your voice breathless and broken, he’s stretching you out so nicely and you’re rubbing fast, eager circles on our clit. “Oh- I- I’m cumming. Oh, my god, fuck! I love you so much, Daryl.” 

The rhythmic squeezing of your tight pussy and your blissed out face sent him straight over the edge, he was grunting into you as you both rode out your highs. 

Minutes later he was catching his breath, his legs shaking. “Was that worth the wait?” You joked. He laughed at you and slipped out, shaking his head at your sound of disappointment. Daryl pulled the condom off and threw it in the bin across the room. 

In the morning he awoke before you, the sun shining across your pretty hair, he could see your relaxed face, your tits sticking out of the blanket. He wondered what he ever did to deserve this, to deserve you. He’d fight through a dozen apocalypses if it meant being with you. 

[oathbips]

I'm Sleeping On The Couch Pt. 2 - Gun, DG

summary: how they'll react to you saying you'll sleep on the couch after an argument

part 1, part 2

content: angst to fluff, reader x gun/dg

author's note: this took longer than i expected so there's only 2 instead of 3. it was a lot harder writing these two especially james so i apologize if he feels too ooc

You can feel your nerve rising the more this argument was dragging out but you were trying your best to not let it show. The last thing you wanted was for him to see how much he was getting to you because in contrast to you, Gun was more nonchalant than ever right now. He’s sitting there, taking hits of his cigarette while wearing this unbothered expression as he stares at you with a look that’s silently asking if you were done with whatever this was that you wanted to make a big deal out of. Which just ends up angering you even more. 

“Gun. This is ridiculous.” 

“It sure is.” 

“No, I mean how you’re not listening to me.” 

“I heard you.” 

“You’re hearing me but you’re not listening!” You finally had enough. All the effort of not trying to let him get to you failed, and he actually got to you. It has always been like this. Every argument you both had always ended up with only you being riled up while Gun on the other hand stays unfazed. It makes you feel like you’re the crazy one, always yelling and screaming at him. He never yells back or even gets angry at you for snapping at him but you honestly wished sometimes he did because that way, it’ll show that he at least cares just a little bit. The constant nonchalance and monotone replies he returns hurts you. It feels like he never takes you seriously, that he never cares. 

In response to your outburst, Gun took the last remaining hit of his cigarette before huffing out the smoke — putting it out once he was done. He then discarded it in the ashtray before finally standing up, making his way towards you but you swiftly turned away. You wanted to quickly make an escape to the bathroom as you felt tears threatening to spill out of frustration. A sigh leaving your lips as you try to collect yourself and hold back the tears.

“Whatever. Let’s just go to sleep.” You stated before shutting the bathroom door behind you. 

It was now Gun who was in the bathroom doing his night routine while you’re in the shared bedroom, finishing the last remaining steps of yours. The fight flashed through your mind as you got on your side of the bed. You sneakily avoided him when you got out of the bathroom earlier, so he couldn’t see your red puffy eyes and stained tears from crying but no doubt he will notice them once he joins you in bed. You didn’t want him to see you like this but more than anything, you didn’t feel like sleeping next to him after everything that just happened. It seems so childish and you know it is but you simply can’t help getting up from where you laid, collecting your pillow, grabbing a small blanket from the closet, and making your way down to the couch in the living room. 

You laid there, twisting and turning trying to get comfortable while the distant sound of the sink running could be heard in the background. It took a good minute or two before you finally settled, getting comfortable. All the stress and tension earlier soon follows, crashing down on you and your body gives in to exhaustion. Half lidded eyes finally close as you drift into a slumber sleep. 

A sudden jolt shook you awake from your slumber. You tried stirring around, heavy eyelids fighting to open and see what’s going on. To your surprise, you soon realize your attempted stirrings are futile once it finally kicks in that your body is currently being lifted up in the air right now, held tightly by a pair of strong arms. All drowsiness finally subsides as your widened eyes finally lay on the person causing all of this. 

“G-Gun?!” You yelped, surprised.

“You’re awake? Go back to sleep.”

“What are you doing?” 

“What are you doing sleeping on the couch?” His question made you remember the fight you guys just had earlier, why you were sleeping on the couch in the first place. 

“Oh…”

“The bed is this way.” He said before you could even find an appropriate reply to his question.

“I know that.”

“Didn’t look like you did.” A pout formed on your face from that and you decided to just stay quiet the whole way to the bedroom. When you both finally arrived at the bed, he gently placed you down on your side before going back out to fetch your pillow. Coming back, he walked towards you and placed it under your head while you stared at him longingly. You really wanted to try once more to talk it out for once instead of getting brushed off like always. 

“…Can we please talk about it tomorrow? Seriously this time.” 

He paused at the question and the room fell silent for half a minute before he finally let out a sigh. “Fine. But go to sleep first.” He stated, then plants a kiss on your forehead. 

“Okay. Goodnight, Gun.” 

“Goodnight.” He said when he finally made it to his side, laying down and pulling you towards him as he placed another kiss on your lips this time.

“I thought you said you wanted to start anew and leave your past behind you?” 

“I do.” 

“It doesn’t seem that way to me, James.” 

It’s been 30 minutes since you and your boyfriend have been going on about this. You were one of the few that knew the truth behind his identity and his life in the past. You knew that he has abandoned that old life and has been starting anew or so he said he was. Because looking at him right now, it looks like he is still very much involved in indulging his past life, and you hated it. It was dangerous and you’re not particularly proud of the choices he was making back then. When he told you before you both started dating that he wanted to forget his past, you were in full support of it. You would not have agreed to even be by his side like you are right now if that wasn’t the case. So, you’re having a hard time trying to understand why these days, you’ve been catching him in the act of meeting up with Eugune and even involving Daniel in whatever it is he’s trying to do involving his old past. You tried confronting him about this before but your attempted confrontation always ended in vain with him dodging and changing the subject. 

“It doesn’t involve you, so don’t worry about it. Just trying to clean up some mistakes in the past.”

“What mistakes are you talking about? You said you were done.”

“If I was actually done, I wouldn’t have to be doing all this would I, Y/n?” 

“Then what are the mistakes that you’re not done with, James? Why won’t you tell me?”

“I told you it doesn’t involve you so don’t worry about it.” 

You really didn’t have the energy anymore to keep continuing this argument after that statement. That’s what he always says and if you have to hear that sentence one more time, you really feel like you’ll lose it. Truth be told, it hurts you every time he would say that. You’re more than aware of how shady his past was, but if it was all behind him now, why can’t he trust you enough to tell you? 

“Okay, whatever. That’s fine. I’m going to bed now.” You stated, ending the argument there. It was no use trying to push an answer out of him when he has been avoiding it for months now. Today wasn’t going to be any different. 

From where James stood, he could see your defeated expression as you started to walk away from him. He felt a pang of guilt rising in him. Of course, he trusted you, more than anything if he were to be completely honest. It’s just he doesn’t want to involve you in his reckless past, especially this one. James told you he was a changed man and he meant it so he didn’t see the need to bring his old sins into your life. He’s about to follow you to apologize until he sees you walking out of the bedroom with your pillow and a blanket around your arms. He couldn’t help but widened his eyes in shock and confusion as to what you were planning to do. 

“What are you doing?”

“I think I’ll sleep out on the couch tonight.” You replied, deadpan. New waves of shock overtake James’ expression as he stares at you in disbelief. “...Seriously?” Was all he could ask in return. This issue was bothering you that much for you to do something so petty as sleeping on the couch instead of with him? He thought it was childish, he really did, but he felt more sad than anything that he had upset you this much. For the first time in his life, he finds himself scattering his brain to find anything he could say to reverse this. 

“Wait.” He managed. You looked at him in expectedly, waiting for him to continue on with what he has to say. You’ll be lying if you said you weren’t hoping for him to finally tell you what you’ve been wanting to hear, for him to finally open up to you. But a part of you knew better than to get your hopes up. Still, you patiently wait for him to elaborate himself as the silence continues to drag out. 

“... I’m sorry.” You stayed silent to that, expecting more than just a “I’m sorry”, but before you could speak up, he beat you to it, cutting you off.

“Just trust me. Please. Once this is all over, I’ll tell you everything you want to know but for now, just trust me. That’s all I’m asking.” 

You stood in silence, taking in what he just said. His statement held such a desperate plea and he looked more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him right now. You’re sad he’s not telling you more, but you can tell that this meant greatly to him and whatever he’s doing must have a bigger purpose than you can understand. You finally exhaled a sigh, accepting the situation you’re in.

“Okay. I trust you but please, be careful.”

“I will, you don’t have to worry.” 

A smile finally appears on his face before he pulls you close to him, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Still going to sleep on the couch now?” He said teasingly, resulting in you rolling your eyes. “And if I said I am?” 

“I can’t let that happen.” He countered and reached out to place his hands on your soft cheeks. He gently strokes them and then leans in to finally plant a deep kiss on your lips, leaving you breathless.

[juneberrie]

bad timing ꩜ ellie williams

⋆.˚ based on this prompt list by @/scealaiscoite

summary: ellie decides to bring up your relationship status at an incredibly inconvenient time; exes to lovers

ⓘ author's note: first ellie fic who cheered!! this may be ooc but oh well! (in my defense i havent finished watching the second game but i've read enough fic that i kinda get her vibe)

word count: 1.1k || masterlist

"duck!" ellie yelled. she fired off a few shots into the head of an infected behind you.

the two of you had been put on patrol together, sent out into the warm summer evening to check for any infected roaming around jackson, when you stumbled upon a large group of them.

you looked around, pistol in hand, shooting a few infected that came too close for comfort. you spotted an abandoned cabin in a clearing, covered in overgrown foliage. it didn't look too far from where you were, the only obstacle being the swarm of infected that were slowly getting closer. "there!" you yelled. her head whipped around to see where you where pointing, butting an infected in the head with her elbow before nodding.

ellie shot another infected before she grabbed your arm with her free hand and started sprinting towards the cabin. as you two ran, you shot blindly in front of you, hoping to hit as many as you can.

you ran ahead of her, throwing your shoulder against the door as you tried to get the rusty thing open. she stood in front of you, shooting as many as she could. “there probably isn’t a worse possible time in the world for me to bring this up," she yelled over the gunshots, "but i wanted to tell you how sorry i am for how things ended.”

you faltered for a second, eyes flickering towards her back before you continued throwing yourself against the door. "what?"

"i said—"

as soon as you managed to swing the door open, you grabbed ellie by her backpack, cutting her off, and pulled her in, slamming the door shut. the two of you quickly spotted a dusty old armchair, the red fabric stiff from years of abandonment. you helped her pull it in front of the door before quickly doubling back and grabbing a metal chair and placing it on top of the armchair, hoping it would prevent the infected from breaking in.

ellie doubled over, hands on her knees and chest heaving as she gulped down as much air as she could. you collapsed onto the floor, leaning your back against the dusty couch. you coughed, reaching into your backpack to grab your water. the door shook, the remaining infected screaming and banging on it in an attempt to get inside.

eventually, the noises quieted down, the infected seemingly losing interest in you two. ellie straightened up, slipping her gun back into its holster. "holy fucking shit," she panted. "that was intense." she rolled her shoulders back, groaning quietly.

you nodded, gulping down your water. you sighed, slipping it back into your bag. "definitely," you replied, head falling back against the couch. you closed your eyes before asking. "what'd you mean?"

"huh?" ellie collapsed onto a chair, leaning her elbows on her knees and letting her head fall forward.

"that- that thing you said. about being sorry."

she glanced up at you through her lashes. "oh. yeah, that." she coughed, sitting up straighter. "i meant that, y'know. i'm sorry for how things ended." she winced slightly, reaching up to scratch a cut on her cheek.

"um.. okay? thanks, i guess?" you laughed awkwardly, not really sure how to respond to that.

"i mean it. you didn't deserve that. i shouldn't have..."

you opened your eyes, turning to see her green eyes staring intently at yours. "i get it," you replied, looking past her at the forest outside the window. "you said you didn't think it was working, it wasn't, we're better as friends. easy." you shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, as if that night you hadn't sobbed your heart out.

ellie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "no, i mean it." she huffed slightly. "i.... i didn't really think we're better off as friends," she admitted. "i just.. i was scared. i'd never been in like, a real, actual relationship before."

"what about cat?" you asked. she shrugged, lightly scratching at her tattoo.

"that was... mostly out of convenience. we were the only two girls who were out at the time, and.... something with her just always felt off."

you raised your eyebrows, confused. "then... why would you..."

she cut you off, running a hand through her hair. "because. i didn't think.... i didn't think i was good for you."

"why?" you asked, twisting your body so you were facing her.

she shrugged. "did i ever tell you how i got this?" she said, pointing at the scar beneath her tattoo.

"chemical burn, you said."

she shook her head at your response. "actually..." she explained the entire story to you, avoiding eye contact entirely. she explained how she got bit, the trip across the country to find the fireflies with joel, and how he had taken her from the hospital after finding out that the procedure to make a cure would kill her. she took a deep breath before finishing with, "so yeah.. i'm immune."

you stared at her for a moment, her words swirling around your mind.

"that's why you broke up with me?" you asked, confusion lacing your tone.

"i thought... i thought you would hate me," she said quietly, eyes just as confused as you. she stared at you blankly, brows slightly furrowed.

"why would i hate you?"

"because there could've been a cure!" she huffed. "and there isn't. because of me."

"no... not because of you," you said slowly, getting up from the floor. "joel's the one who stopped them."

"but—" she attempted, sitting up straighter.

"it's not your fault, els." the nickname slipped easily off your tongue, catching both of you off guard.

her green eyes blinked up at you, confused, as you stopped in front of her. the two of you just looked at each other for a few moments, unspoken words flying between you.

"i miss us," she said quietly, looking down at the floor. "is that weird to say?"

you gently took hold of her shoulders, her gaze flicking back up to you. "maybe a little weird, but..." you smiled softly. "i miss you too."

her eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips. she gently placed her hands on your waist, pulling you closer so that you were standing in between her legs. "i want to try again," she murmured, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin.

"yeah?" you asked, placing your hands on her cheeks. you leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

"yeah," she replied. she hooked a finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you into a kiss. it felt so right, after months of polite small talk and awkward avoidance of their past relationship. it felt so familiar, the way her lips moved against yours.

eventually, you pulled away, resting your forehead on hers. "i've missed this."

ellie chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "me too." she paused for a moment, before adding, "sooooo... we're good?"

you laughed softly, glancing down at your girlfriend. "better than good."

the alt ending to this was supposed to be "sooo we're back?" "we are so back" lmao anyways!

[musamora]

𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 「𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

characters. bungou stray dogs. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma.

content. f!reader. mentions of violence, mentions of suicide attempts (dazai), alcohol (chuuya), harassment (chuuya), cussing, general sappiness. not proofread.

author's note. this started as a writing exercise to get my writing inspo flowing again, and then i began working on it on and off for a week. so enjoy! this is also an attempt to nail some of their character's down, so hopefully it isn't too OOC.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. what nicknames do the bungo stray dogs boys call their girlfriend?

𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 ⋆ (𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘)-𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

The darkened alleyway had become thick with the stench of gunpowder and smoke, streetlights barely illuminating your path in the hush of night. You patrolled the area with quick, swift feet, hovering your gun near your hip in case of an ambush. Each step made your heart pound, sweat mixing with humidity to drench your skin as you inched toward the corner.

However, to both your dismay and prediction, Dazai wasn't taking this mission seriously—though he rarely did. It both aggravated and appeased you, knowing that if the situation became dangerous, he'd straighten up in a heartbeat. That didn't mean that his blissed smile and the skip in his step as he went on about the euphoria of death and the many methods he could die from didn't unnerve you.

Knowing him, he wouldn't mind getting shot.

"You know, my dear," he smirked, leaning close to your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "You're very sexy when you're serious." "Dazai," you chided, face stilled into an unamused expression. He fell back dramatically, flailing his hands into the air in surrender. "Oh, belladonna! That stern stare — I hope that beautiful expression is the last sight I see in this cruel world!" he cried, but much to his disdain, you had already rounded the corner, completely done with his antics. "(Name)-channnn!~ Don't leave me hereeee!"

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗘 ⋆ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬 ⋆ 𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗬

It had been a strenuous day at the office for everyone, including you—a plethora of insane missions always followed by mountains of paperwork that never seemed to end. It was almost too much to bear. You huffed, leaning against your hand as you desperately tried to not fall asleep due to your exhaustion.

A pair of large, warm hands rested on your shoulders, massaging just the right spots in your taut muscles. You sighed, allowing yourself to lean back in your chair and enjoy the temporary reprieve. However, the owner of those hands had different plans, hot breath blowing against your ear as he bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Dazai chuckled to himself, enjoying your immediate reaction to straighten up, eyes pointed to the screen in an effort to avoid reacting.

You were just too cute.

He cooed out a plethora of sweet nothings in a low, hushed timbre as he tempted a flustered expression out of your face. And one thing that everyone should know about Osamu Dazai—he always gets what he wants when he puts his mind to it.

"Heyyy, sweetie. How's the paperwork going?" You continued to type. "Why won't you pay attention to me!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he slumped against you. "Come onnn, honey. Don't you love me anymore?" You typed harder. He sniffled. "My little wifey doesn't love me anymore." You paused. "Whaat? Too forward?"

𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟

Only strays wandered the streets at this time of night, but Dazai found himself itching to join them with each passing second. Sleep never easily came to the former demon prodigy. He found that each time he closed his eyes, he was only met with flashes of the past and disillusions of the future. His sharp mind would continue to turn like a machine, processing every granule of information as if he were inspecting an hourglass—a process that had become routine for him.

"Osamu..."

However, your intrusion into his nightfall rituals had soothed his instinctual aches. His eyes glazed over your drowsy figure, admiring the displacement of your hair and the heaviness of your eyes with an emotion he could only describe as awe.

Because in these moments, you didn't even have to be awake and looking at him to make him feel invigorated—feel alive. And with you, he didn't hate being alive anymore, didn't hate acknowledging his human flaws and issues. He just embraced it, even for only a second.

The rational part of his brain dissipated when he felt your warm, bare skin brush against his bandages, snuggling up to him. He knew his brain became useless in your presence, overcome with pure adulation for your mind, your body, and your very soul. So instead, he pulled you close, nuzzling his face in your neck and listening to the rhythmic pulse of your heart as it worked to soothe him to sleep.

"Good night, beautiful."

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗘

The murmurs of the restaurant had been dampened by a luxurious and vast velvet curtain, enclosing the entire booth to separate you from the other patrons. Lights sparkled from a dazzling chandelier, creating ribbons of gold and white on the tablecloth. This was a special occasion since you rarely had dates outside of your apartment. Chuuya always wanted to take you out more often, to show you off and treat you to the finest, but there never was time. So even when you insisted you could stay inside for a date this evening, he had already planned on spoiling you rotten.

He watched your expression between folded hands, hiding his smirk as the waiter set down an extremely expensive bottle of red wine. You had insisted on getting the more recent and cheaper version, not wanting to splurge too much—which, of course, insulted him. How could he not provide the best for his partner whenever he got the chance?

"Stop gaping, babe," he tutted at your widened eyes, tone lighter than the biting edge it usually held. "Whaddya say we snap over the 1959 Chateau Latour, hm?"

𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 ⋆ 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

You had been working the late shift at your office building, slaving the day away only to come out on the other side with an aching back and a small paycheck. Despite Chuuya's suggestion that you could quit your job and let him take care of you, you wanted to maintain your independence and some additional money, which he understood. So here you were, trudging home from the train station with heavy feet and tired eyes. Seeing the apartment complex in the distance made your heart soar, a pep in your step as you started to practically glide down the sidewalk.

"Heyyyy, baby. Lookin' good tonight. That outfit for me, huh?"

Grimacing, you ignored the disgusting cat-calls from the random stranger in favor of increasing your speed to reach the building. You could practically smell the woody cologne coming from Chuuya's jacket, but your blissful thoughts were interrupted by a set of hefty footsteps behind you. This would've been normal during the day, but no one else is out this late at night—except one person.

With tremoring fingers, you lifted your cell phone ever-so-slightly, finding that strange man walking at a brisk pace behind you in the reflection. It set off too many alarm bells in your head, and your walking turned into sprinting.

It just so happened that Chuuya was leaning on one of the pillars outside of your apartment complex. He never liked when you worked the late-shift, and he definitely didn't like when you walked home by yourself—however, you had insisted that you would be fine. He relented, enjoying the independent aspect of your personality, but he still had his precautions.

He straightened up with a passive expression when he saw your shadowed silhouette in the distance, but his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed once he spotted the man who was running after you. Using his gravity manipulation, he pulled you closer to him and had the pervert sink into the ground, sizing him up with burning eyes.

His gloved hand went to your back, easing your trembling body. "Go inside, baby. You don't need'ta be involved in this shit." He watched carefully as you rushed inside the lobby, before slamming the man onto the hard concrete, a foot digging into his spine. "Listen, shithead. You ever look at my doll again, I fucking swear to God—" He never let you walk home alone after this, not like you were complaining much. And that man would never bother you again, if he was even still capable of walking.

𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦

It had been an absolutely draining day for Chuuya. With his position as an executive, you would assume that he wouldn't have to deal with the low-life freeloaders that the Port Mafia was bound to have, but it was exactly the opposite. He had been stuck for hours finishing a bunch of incident reports due to the destruction of properties on the southwestern side of Yokohama—incidents he was somehow not involved in.

He groaned as he entered the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it with his hat before a hearty aroma hit him. He followed his nose to the stove, finding an intricately wrapped dish with a note taped on top.

Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You need to grow big and strong. Love you! ♥

If it were from anyone else, he would've ripped the note apart when he hit the jab at his height—and he definitely scowled a bit—but there was a hint of endearance in his expression. He lifted the tin foil covering the food, feasting on the sight of penne alla vodka.

A raspy sound took him out of his ogling, his eyes scanning the darkened living room to find the one person he had been dying to see—you. And what a sight you were, drool trailed down your chin, a half-empty dish of pasta lying limply in your arms, and hair tousled as your neck bent at an awkward angle to rest against the cushions.

He couldn't help a small laugh at the sight, placing your plate on the coffee table and wiping the baby hairs out of your face, leaving a fleeting kiss on your forehead. In moments like this, with the disarray and train wreck his life had been, he found himself grateful for such simple, domestic sights. It enveloped him in a sense of peace, feeling at home for the first time.

"Hey, princess," he whispered with another peck to your temple. "I'm home."

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗘𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗬 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Russian.

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥

Fyodor rarely, if ever, used nicknames of any kind in public. With his specific occupation, it would be detrimental to reveal any kind of attachment to anyone, regardless of whether you were capable of defending yourself. However, rarely does not mean never.

It was an unusual occasion; a completely public date at a local café—you knew that he loved his tea and suggested it in the off-chance that it would possibly sway him to join you. You assumed that he'd say no, but he always found himself having a hard time denying you when you proposed it so sweetly.

However, you knew that you needed to be efficient with your time. You enjoy each other's company in a secluded corner of the café while also multitasking on your own work. The room emitted a wonderful ambiance that made you feel productive and inspired, though it was simultaneously cozy enough to relax in—for you, that was. Most of Fyodor's work required him to be in seclusion, so instead he enjoyed the view—both of the skies outside and a couple of stray glimpses at you.

"Drink for (Name)," a barista called.

Fyodor looked toward you expectantly, but you were far too in your own little world to notice. He would've normally broken your workflow, but he found himself oddly compelled to let you continue—he was awfully fond of the way your brows narrowed as you concentrated. So instead, he retrieved your drink, settling it on the table with a small clink.

"Here you are, dear."

𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔 (милая) ⋆ 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗡𝗔𝗬𝗔 (радная) ⋆ 𝗟𝗨𝗕𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗔 (любимая)

It was in the privacy of your shared home that his native tongue came out, engrossing you with his rich Russian accent—he knew the effect it had on you, so sometimes he toyed around with you by slipping it into everyday interactions.

You walked into his computer room, careful to not trip on wires as you carried in a steaming thermal mug of fresh black tea. He was often far too engrossed in his work to eat or drink, so you found the least you could do was to make him some tea whenever you weren't busy.

You placed it next to him, leaning over to take a curious glance at the screen—not understanding a word of it—and you were about to silently exit when he placed a cold hand on top of yours. Your brow raised, watching the smile that appeared on his lips.

"Thank you, милая." You sputtered over your words at the praise, watching in anticipation as he took a sip. He hummed at the nectarous flavor, slouching as the tea worked to soothe his throat. The tea circled in the mug as he swirled it, watching carefully as he could feel your composure melt away. "Delicious as always, радная." You mumbled a quick thank you, turning like a gazelle on your heel to escape his predatory gaze, but his hand pulled you back. Completely captive in his hold, you looked back, a knowing smirk on his face. "Stay for a moment, любимая. I'd like to hear your thoughts on something."

𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗛𝗞𝗔 (мышка)

You honestly had no clue how you had gotten into this position.

One moment, you were cleaning around various rooms, making sure everything was dusted and organized. The next, you were sitting in Fyodor's lap—though you couldn't say you minded. An occasional hum vibrated against the top of your head as Fyodor concentrated on a book in one hand, the other fastened securely around your waist, rubbing circles into the clothed skin.

It took every ounce of self-control you had to limit your face to a neutral glance, staring at the words in his Russian novel as if you were trying to decipher them—you were; you didn't know a lick of the language. You leaned against his shoulder, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat as it lured you into relaxation. His eyes began to drift from the page, finding your internal struggle incredibly amusing. He titled his face, holding back a smirk when you made a startled noise from a kiss to the temple.

Cute.

In these moments, he felt human again. Everywhere else in the world, he was either treated as a god or a demon—and that was the way he had orchestrated it. But here, in the home you both created, he felt that he had finally received his sanctuary. A place where he sat, welcomed and unjudged for his sins.

"You're quite warm, мышка," he teased. "Perhaps you are developing fever. Hm?"

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗚𝗢𝗟 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Ukrainian.

𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗞𝗔 (ластівка)

The fluorescent lights above burned your eyes as you scoured the aisles of the store aimlessly. You were on your weekly grocery run but had decided to make something different for dinner this week. There was only one problem—you didn't know where the ingredients were. You normally would've just asked one of the staff members, but you had unfortunately come into the store at a very late hour. Every time you looked at an employee, their eyes were glazed over as if wishing for the sweet release of death. So you decided to search on your own.

You scanned the shelves for a particular dressing, not finding it in its usual spot. It was only with a quick glance to the top shelf that you found it, teetering on the edge as if tempting you. Gritting your teeth, you outstretched your arm as you braced your other one on a lower shelf, only to shriek at the feeling of two hands supporting your hips. You whipped around to find the pervert who had touched you but found nothing. And then you looked down.

Damn him.

Two familiar gloves emerged from golden portals, and a mischievous chuckle accompanied their exit from down the aisle. You looked the white-haired jester up and down, crossing your arms with a pout.

"Did you have to startle me like that?" "Ohhh, sorry, ластівка," he cooed. "I only want to say hello!~"

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (маленька моя) ⋆ 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔 (моя кохана)

How did you manage to get into this mess?

Oh yeah, Nikolai suggested it.

The classic jester, in his hobby of wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, suggested a fun date-night idea—to light bin fires around the alleys of Yokohama until the police caught on. At first, you had been chasing after him in an attempt to stop him, but it had all been in vain. He would let you grab him, only to chuckle as he teleported away with his cape. So instead, you opted to stick by his side and make sure he didn't cause too much harm.

You stood a couple of feet away from the blazing fire, your body resting in the tranquil glow of the chaotic light. Despite the oddities that came with the situation—and every situation that involved Nikolai—there was something so welcoming about the discord. Perhaps you had finally become used to Nikolai's antics. The aforementioned jester had been gaping at you for some time, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched your features through the fire.

"You look breathtaking in the glow of a flame, м��ленька моя."You stilled at his serious tone, fumbling over a response, but a crescendoing wail of sirens broke the silence. Nikolai smirked, grabbing your arm with one hand as the other went into his overcoat. "Oops!~ Looks like the police caught on. Come on, моя кохана! This way!"

𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (душа моя)

A refreshing breeze rushed past your face as you settled, watching the sun make its descent below the horizon of the city's harbor. Your legs dangled dangerously over the edge of a steep cliffside, yet you found no fear remaining in your heart. Perhaps you have become accustomed to a life of chaos; find beauty in the entropy and contradictions of life.

Nikolai couldn't help but stare at your face as it was outlined by the shadows of the dying sunbeams, awe-struck by your beauty. You were ethereal to him, everything he ever wanted to be and wished to have—so grounded and yet freer than ever. He knew that the relationship between you two, something neither of you had dared to label, should've made him feel constricted. It tied him down to the ground, and he should've been fighting for the skies.

But he didn't.

He felt free. And he knew that it was most likely his heart tricking him, stringing him to a relationship that would disappear with the wind—that he had truly become the fool everyone thought of him as. But he didn't care. Not anymore. Not with you by his side.

He snapped out of his philosophical contemplation as a soft hand cupped his cheek, thumbing at the performative mask that he wore. And he folded it like a deck of cards, removing it before placing a chaste kiss on your palm.

"Somehow, I feel freer than ever before. And it's all thanks to you, душа моя."

𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧

It was a known fact that the Casino's manager had a rigid schedule, packed with meetings and event dates that he had to prepare for. Everything had to run perfectly inside his casino, and he would be damned if it didn't. However, Sigma always made it a mission to purposefully bump into you throughout the day. He had memorized your schedule easily, finding that there was only so much you could do in a finite building in the sky.

He would often find you either in the library or viewing deck, either in your own world reading a book or watching the real world from the skies. Even he had to admit that he could never get tired of the sight of the Earth from down below, contemplating the lives of those who lived on the ground.

"Good morning, dear," he greeted you at the entrance of the viewing deck, noticing a stack of books in your arms. "I see your trip to the library went well." "It was. I'm going to thumb through the newest shipment of fiction novels this afternoon," you replied, your hand already tapping on one of the hardcovers in anticipation. Sigma always made sure to buy the best books for the casino, and you knew he was often swayed by your own favorites. "I'm glad you're so interested in them." He knowingly smiled before a memory came to mind. "Could you hold off your reading for one moment, dearest? I've received a new layout for our casino's fliers and was hoping you'd take a look."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⋆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⋆ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧

The anxious casino manager often forgot to eat because of his destructive work habits, often going hours without consuming anything in order to constantly maintain peace in his casino. It was a terrible habit that caused more stress for both of you, so you decided to enact a plan. Whenever you noticed his workload was becoming too much or he seemed too frazzled, you'd step in to make sure he was getting everything he needed.

A small (underlying word: large) part of him secretly reveled in this, both having the opportunity to be doted on—and be simultaneously scolded—while also relishing in a couple stress-free moments with you. And he also gets to enjoy your cooking, which he personally found better than the casino chefs'—but that's because he was biased.

On his worst days, you'd prance into his office after the casino lunch rush, carrying in tow a small bento packed with his favorite comfort foods and a cookie for dessert. He would look up from whatever paperwork he was slaving away on, a small smile on his tired face.

"Thank you, my love." "You really need to eat more, Sigma," you lectured, placing the bento on his desk to take his face into your hands, analyzing his eye-bags with a concerned expression. "You're gonna get sick." "I'm fine, lovely," he replied, cupping your hands with his own. "You don't need to worry about me." You struck him with a pointed glare, crossing your arms and tapping your foot as he began to work on paperwork again. The clock ticked by a couple of seconds, your maternal scowl deepening with each moment that passed where he didn't reach for the food. "Sweetheart," he sighed before relenting and reaching for the bento. "Fine. For you, I'll eat some. But only until C4276 finishes his blackjack game."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘

The casino had been blasting with the sounds of the band in full swing long into the night, people dancing and chatting amongst themselves as the casino reached the peak of its ability. This new gala had been an exhilarating success, drawing in new patrons as cash flowed out from dealers' hands. It had been perfect, but it was obviously a lot on Sigma.

That was the reason you insisted on co-hosting it with him. He watched in amazement as you worked the crowd tonight, acting in concert to keep the patrons happy and to maintain order. You had been his perfect match, which showed just how much you watched over the casino.

He found you later that night standing on your private balcony, pausing at the entry to fully take in how beautiful you looked in your formal ensemble. The stars seemed to drift to your body like a satellite, casting you in a distant heavenly glow. But everything was silent as if you two were the only ones left to watch over the world as the clouds wandered by.

The anxiety and fear he always felt had been pushed to the side, melting away with the utter sense of belonging that you had engrained into him. You had shown him that he wasn't a mediocre man but a capable and strong individual capable of loving and being loved. You turned as the balcony door shifted open, welcoming him into both your arms and heart.

And he fell for you even more.

"Ohh, love of my life," he mumbled, nuzzled into your shoulder. "What would I be without you?"

милая = dear/darling радная = dear любимая = beloved мышка = mouse ластівка = swallow (bird) маленька моя = my little one моя кохана = my love душа моя = my soul

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat @kotysluny

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[nosyrobin]

THE WHITE BAT

prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Warning: blood , canon violence, ooc for Damian(?)

Summary: again the bat fights crime, the bird comes to help. Ending in a bird’s injury, and bat’s protectiveness. Making the relationship bloom even more between the two young heroes.

Gun shots rang out in the alleyway, a swish sound connecting as a criminal falls straight onto their ass.

The knight strides towards their foe, glowing pink eyes as their hand graze the brick walls. Sharp claws, scraping the damned bricks that dare to make any sound other than nails on a chalkboard. The criminal shake before getting up and running making the white bat smile.

“Oh I love it when they run…” they said before they disappeared within the shadows. Smiling their sharp fangs….

Meanwhile Robin, aka Damian was crouching on a roof. Patrol, well more like a sneaked out one as his father try to ban him from patrol until he can get his “act” right. Dick had called it a “rebellious teen phase” making Damian scoff at that. Damian was mostly out on patrol to catch a certain white knight that caught his heart and attention. He hated that he won’t admit that he had secured the white cloak he kept somewhere else.

Okay so maybe he sleep with it some nights (every night) when he wants to think of white knight. But that doesn’t mean he’s that attached to the bat. As he uses his binoculars to scan the area out, that’s when he sees a suspicious person running. But he’s eyes widen when he sees a flash of a white cloak that belonged to a certain knight. His knight. Damian immediately pulled out his grapple hook, ready to meet the person he was destined to meet again.

Back to the bat, they followed the damned criminal. Coming out of the shadows. The shadows belonged to a warehouse, an abandoned looking one as the bat narrowed their pink eyes. Scanning the area, a bright light shined on them. Making them tense as they pushed their cloak off their arms, ready to take on whoever was trying to jump them.

“Hah! The little bat fell for it!” The same criminal said as he smiled with a gold tooth. There were five more guys around, surrounding the young hero who definitely didn’t give a fuck how many there were. They were gonna kick their ass.

As one ran up on the bat, they swiftly dodged the rush and grabbed the crook’s arm. Twisting it before kicking the crook towards another one. As an another enemy was sneaking up behind the white knight, a bat-a-rang slashes their hand that dare tried to touch them.

“Not on my watch.” Robin said as he swooped down and drop kicked the criminal down. “Robin? What are you doing here” the bat says as Robin dusted himself off, immediately putting his back against their as a few more crooks showed up.

“I’m helping you. Isn’t that obvious?” He said with a bat smirk. The white bat laughed out loud, showing their pearly white fangs. “Ah I see…well. Welcome to the show birdy.” The bat says as Robin nodded. They both put their fists up and got to work.

Robin uppercut an enemy before slamming them to his knee, the bat swooped around. Back flipping onto an enemy’s neck and bringing them down to crack their neck on pavement. Smiling as they got up and go to work on the others.

Robin gave a nimble roundhouse kick before you appear above him and gave a nice axe kick. Completing the combo move as you landed gracefully by the bird. It seemed you beat the other up as Robin and you finished his last one. Your cloak covered your body as you looked at the boy wonder. “That was amazing….we should do this next time we meet up. The bat says as they look down at the bird. Robin didn’t say anything other than nodding. The bat nods and goes to walk off.

Meanwhile Robin sucked in his lower lip before grabbing their cloak, prompting the white knight to stop. “Wait….would like to patrol with me? Watch over Gotham, til it’s time for me to go?” He asked softly. The white knight smiled, their pink eyes glowing softly.

“Sure i would—”

Robin’s eyes widen as he immediately jumped in front of you, a shot rang from the air as the bat’s and bird’s ears rang. Robin falls to his knees, making the bat’s eyes widen with fear.

“ROBIN!” Immediately they turn to the person who shot the Batman’s sidekick. It was the criminal from the start of it all. The bat glared as they opened their mouth. A piercing scream came out like a wild tornado at the man. Throwing him across the stone wall of the warehouse.

The man tried to sit up only to get knocked down by a boot to his chest. Blazing pink eyes look at the man with rage as they open their mouth.

“You dare harm him…I shall not be the one to spare your life.” Wide bat wings sprouted from their back. The criminal whimpered as the bat attacked. Leaving screams and blood splattered, but after that was done. There were no traces.

Now it was only Damian moaning in pain and an angry bat’s protectiveness took place. The bat grabbed the boy and head off with a quick leap into the air and onto a roof..

“Fuck” the white knight says, dragging the word as they hopped roof to roof before jumping through an open window of their hide out. Holding the injured bird close to their body.

Lightly putting Damian down as he moans and groans. The bullet wasn’t made to just hurt you, it was made to kill you. And Damian could handle a bullet..or could he? Your thoughts was moving wild as Damian’s eyes were shut tight. Still making noise and gripping onto you as if you would disappear. You shush Damian, lifting his uniform shirt to get a look at the bullet wound.

It wasn’t too deep, but it was stuck. “Sorry Damian…this might hurt you.” You softly say as you used your sharp nails to dig it out. Damian yelled out loudly, making you cringe as you keep digging and digging. The squishy sounds of flesh and his agonizing screams made your heart sink a little. But it ended when you pulled it out perfectly in one piece and started to disinfect the wound.

Damian hissed with slight open eyes now, he felt embarrassed. He could take swords going through his arms by Slade , and practically anything he had to go through when being in league of assassins. But a bullet wound in his stomach that was meant for you.

And somehow he couldn’t handle the pain. That bullet was laced for something that was meant to kill you. But it couldn’t kill him, so he had to jump in front of you and take it. His eyes flutter looking at you, reaching a hand out and touching your cheek.

“You okay?” He asked as he tried to sit up, even if you had just bandaged him up and stitched the wound shut while he was stuck in his thoughts.

“You’re asking if I’m okay after literally taking a bullet for me.. color me stoke..you sure are something birdy..” you said in a low tone, your voice raspy from yelling his hero name as you got up from the bed side. Putting away the med kit. Damian slightly chuckled as he watched you carefully, “of course I have to ask for your wellbeing..we’re…partners..aren’t we?” He asked. He tried to make his tone not so obvious that he was nervous about the fact he said you two were technically friends.

You slowly turned your head around before turning it back at the door out of the room you both were in.

You smirked, “yeah.. I guess we are..”

White bat!reader tag: @minkyungseokie @amber-content @chibiduck

A/N: the more chapters go on, the more longer the story gets…awesome isn’t it?

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Take Your Medicine Sweetheart.

Summary: Going behind Tommy's back you decide to terminate your pregnancy as you did not want to raise a child around him or around the company he keeps. When Tommy finds out he ensures that you will be pregnant, and you will carry to term, on his terms.

Warnings: Noncon, very Dark!Tommy, blood play, gun play, p in v, anal sex, physical abuse, Tommy is very OOC, misogyny, abortion, breeding, forced pregnancy, forced marriage.

GIF credit: thesoldiersminute

This is a very dark fic, please don't read if any of the warnings are triggers for you.

“Darling, are you alright? You look rather pale?” Your surroundings began to spin, and it looked as if there were three of Tommy. Something wasn’t right.

“I-I- think someone put something in my- my-“

The last thing you remembered before your eyes closed was Tommy’s hand on your thigh while he looked at you in satisfaction with a sadistic smile.

When you awoke Tommy was standing before you shirtless at the end of the bed, cigarette hanging from his plush lips.

“Good morning sunshine, how you feeling?” Your head was pounding as fear entered your body at the sight of your intimidating husband Tommy paced the room, letting you gather yourself.

“All you had to do was follow my orders, eh? But you couldn’t do that. Instead you thought it would be a grand idea to go behind my back and dispose of our child.” A lump began to form in your throat.

How did he know?

Who told him?

“I have eyes and ears everywhere I know your every move Y/N. The perks of my reputation in Birmingham, people crawl on their hands and needs to please me, you know that more than anyone. Whether you like to or not is not of my concern. You’re my wife. Nonetheless Y/N.” He aimed his cigarette at you.

“Nonetheless. You have duties that you will learn to bare.” His eyebrows etched together, yet he hasn’t broken eye contact with you once.

Placing his cigarette down in an ashtray on the dresser, he settled his hands on the soft, delicate mattress. He leaned in so he was directly in front of our face.

Pressing your lips together firmly, trying to hold back tears, you attempted to look in a different direction, anywhere but him.

“You are going to bare my fucking child. If you even think to attempt this little stunt again. I will put you in chains to this god damn bed until you give birth.” In a quick fight or flight moment you jumped up off the bed and ran for your life to get out of this house.

Tommy chuckled darkly to himself, he always loves a challenge, and you hadn’t known of the little side medication he put in your tea this morning. Once you reached the stairs, your head started to feel like it was going to explode from how fast and hard it was pounding.

All energy in you seemed to evaporate, making you almost drop to your knees at the top of the stairs.

The floors creaked behind you, he took his time approaching you as if you were his prey and he wanted to see how far you could get. The sight of you so weak and fragile, sent Tommy into overdrive.

You were his little play toy that he could use however he please. Leaning down behind you, you felt his jaw rest right in the crook of your neck. His frigid skin against yours almost felt soothing to how much you were sweating and out of breath.

“If you want to play games my love, I can play games.” All of a sudden you felt his foot kick into your back, sending you dwindling down the hardwood steps, taking the breath out of you.

Once at the bottom, you managed to turn yourself around so that you were facing the steps but your foot felt like every bone was shattered within.

Tommy stood at the top of the staircase, the moonlight peeling in through the windows behind him, creating a menacing, dark silhouette. “You’re only making things harder for yourself my love.” He paced down the stairs slowly toward you. “If you had just complied with what I wanted we wouldn’t be here now would we?”

In a fast motion, his hand was gripping your delicate hair, causing you to yelp out in pain. As you kicked and screamed, he slammed your head into the ground. All movement in you froze when the sound of a gun cocking echoed throughout the house, as though it seemed to your ears.

“Tommy- please-please don’t do this.”

“Do I have your attention now sweetheart?” You stayed silent.

His free hand slid up your dress, revealing your bloodied underwear. The feeling of guilt and shame washing over you like a hurricane. The sight of it made Tommy’s anger rise.

With a swift movement of his hand the fabric of your underwear and your delicate folds underneath Thomas grabbed between his fingers, twisting them and pinching them while you screamed. “You feel that, eh! This is fucking mine. Your body and what you do with it. My decision.” His grip tightened, sending a burning sensation running through your stomach, he tugged at it over and over.

“Do we fucking understand that, you little fucking whore!”

“Yes! Yes! I understand! All yours Tommy.” He released his grip, and tugged down your panties. The blood was still oozing out of you, slowly starting to create a puddle on the floor. He tossed the gun to the side. The sound of his belt unbuckling came from behind you. You couldn’t stop the tears as they were still continuously falling.

“I’m gonna fucking breed you over and over again, until I’m satisfied and think you’ve learnt your lesson.” You were too weak to fight. Tommy was too strong compared to you, you didn’t stand a chance. Without any warning he plunged his length into, taking your breath away.

The thickness, and length of Thomas was too overwhelming, it often hurt but would start to feel pleasurable and it made you sick to give him the idea that this is what you want.

Vigorously he slammed his lengthy, thick member into you over and over again, while his nails dug into your hips.

You could feel his balls, slapping against your pussy while his length stretched out your tight walls.

Involuntarily your soaked insides were clenching around his dick, making him grin behind you. “You like this you little fucking whore. Like when I fuck your cunt.”

He flipped you over onto your back. He was towering over you, biting his bottom lip. Your pussy was throbbing, as he continued his pace. He filled your sexual needs in ways you’d never felt before, his length, his experience. He knew just all the right places to hit and you hated it.

Grabbing your chin, he forced you to look at all the blood, and more importantly he wanted you to see how much you cum for him, how much he satisfies that tight little hole of yours. It was a reminder you weren’t going to get this anywhere else.

Your stomach began to twist and you were having an internal warfare in your mind.

How could someone that you find so disgusting, so frightened of, make you feel so good.

How can he do this to you every time.

He knew you hated him, knew you did not want to have sex with him, and he’d put you in these positions to where you’d be moaning for him, moaning his name against your own will.

Lapping his fingers under your dripping hole, he took his bloody fingers and shoved them in your mouth. “Suck.”

A wave of nausea washed through you that you could not hold back, turning your head your stomach dispensed of any remains it contained onto the floor.

Without a moment to think you felt two fingers enter your ass, the same ones he had just put in your mouth.

You writhed in pain on the floor, screaming in agony, cheeks red and tear stained.

Thomas stopped all movement aside from pumping his fingers in and out of your tight ass. Your inner walls we’re screaming at you to stop this. Your ass was stinging, and felt like it was on fire.

“Ride me.” Blinking at him, you were trying to process what he just said, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out.

Gasping from the pain of his fingers working your ass relentlessly, you did as you were told to the best of your ability while you lay still on the ground.

You began to move your hips, doing all the work yourself. Taking his length thrust after thrust. Your walls were starting to clench around him, your pussy throbbing from the girth of him.

A wave of pleasure rode through you, your inner muscles starting to spasm just as the tip of his dick found that sweet spot.

You couldn’t help but close your flushed eyelids, while your breathing began to pick up, along with the movements of your hips.

“Atta girl.”

Tommy stared down, watching you take all of him begrudgingly, licking his lips in amusement as he could tell by your facial expressions your body was betraying you.

“Hate me so much look at you fucking me like there’s no tomorrow.”

Disgusted and ashamed was how you felt. Your own body was working against you, and you couldn't help it.

“Fuck you! You fucking piece of shit!” A stinging pain rushed through your cheek as he sent a powerful slap the side of your face.

“Tell me how you really feel Y/N, with my cock buried in you.” He wrapped his hand around your throat to quiet you as he continued to drill into you deeply and roughly. Causing your breasts to bounce intensely.

“Gonna cum in you and make you nice and full again.” You shook your head back and forth in disgust.

His movements sped up more than you thought possible. Involuntarily, you felt your pussy getting more wet with every time he rammed into your sweetness. You tightened around his rather large member, and you could tell he was close as well by the way he was moaning and the way his thighs twitched against your, bruised skin.

“Let me go Tommy, just- just pull out and we can talk about it!”

Your voice was shaky and hoarse, you did not want to bring a child up in this environment, nor did you think Tommy would be a suitable father just by the way he treated you.

Ignoring your pleas, pleasure rose through his body, his stomach tightening up as the mixture of how wet you are and how much you were tightening around him took over every thought in his body.

Pinning your wrists down, he thrusted into you three more times before you felt his warm liquid ooze into you while his moans became more heavy.

You made it through, you did your job and got him off, now you wanted him off of you and to be left alone.

“I’m not finished with you yet. Now it’s time for your punishment my sweet Y/N.” Tommy placed his hands on your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach, forcing your ass up in the air.

He was kind enough to spit onto his hand, but what came after that you weren’t ready for.

Placing the tip of his dick in front of your hole, he popped the tip into you, making every part of your body tense and clenching up.

Releasing a muffled whine from the sudden intrusion, you had never felt more frozen than you did now. Panic set in, and you tried to wiggle your way out.

“Where do you think you are going to go?” To ensure that you’d stay put, without any hesitation or warning, he pushed the rest of his length into your uncomplying, inexperienced hole.

Your screams filled the house as your ass was being stretched in a way that you wasn't imaginable, it felt like he was tearing your skin a part little by little. “Stop! Stop! Pl-please just stop!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that until I think you’ve learnt your lesson.” Nails scratching at the wooden floors, you seized for this to be over. Tommy placed his hands on both your ass cheeks as they bounced up and down and watched as he forced all of his length in your small hole. Stretching it beyond belief.

Your blood painted his dick and balls a dark cherry red and now he was going to paint your insides that color. “Fuck, such a filthy little whore, taking my dick in your ass.”

Tommy ignored your sobs and continued to drive into you, the girth of his dick feeling like it was obliterating you inside and out.

It felt like the sensitive walls in your ass were being sliced open as Tommy continued to slam his dick into your tight used ass over and over again, until eventually you felt him release himself one more time, covering your insides with his warm seed.

He collapsed onto you, still buried deep within you. Combing back his hair, he was trying to catch his breath. You were a broken woman, the pain swayed within every part of you.

Giving you a light smack on your cheek, he stood up, picking his pants up off the floor, looking down at your fucked out, used body that he claimed as his own. “Let this serve as a reminder. You’re my property Y/N. That’s never gonna change my love.”

The last thing your dreary eyes saw was the wooden clock on the wall, time passing ever so slowly as the pain began to be too much. Your eyes drifted off as you went unconscious on the bloodied floor.

When you awoke, Thomas was at your bedside with the doctor. He informed her that you had, had a miscarriage and wanted to try again, but maybe it was too much too soon for you. “Mrs Shelby, I’m going to be your doctor and this is your nurse. Mr. Shelby has informed me of what’s been going on. The good news is, at this stage even with the miscarriage, if you two have started trying, you are still very fertile from the time that Mr. Shelby told me you had the miscarriage. I-“

“Thomas. Please call me Thomas.” The doctor nodded and smiled, You could tell she was blushing.

Nausea fulfilled you, and your eyes felt heavy.

“It also appears that your ankle, is sprained, Thomas informed me you took a stumble down the stairs. That may have been what have brought on the miscarriage, so we also prescribed you with pain relief medication, and wrapped it up for you.”

You had no one, Thomas charmed his way into every woman, and every man was too much of a coward and frightened of him to do anything to help you. You were certain he did not tell them about anything other than that you had a supposed miscarriage and sprained ankle.

“Now, Mrs Shelby? We’re going to send you home with estrogen pills, that should help with conceiving. Just maybe next time, take it easy, take it slow, and don’t overwork yourself. If you follow all that you should be okay.” You thanked her sarcastically as she exited the room.

Without your consent Thomas helped you change for you to go home. The weather was cold, as the wind blew the autumn leaves around the dying grass.

Thomas was by your side, arm wrapped around your waist walking you out. He didn’t want you to fall, as he knew you were very well still in recovery from the following night.

He was very precautious with you once you were “home”, and you had no energy to fight him anymore.

He drew a hot bath for you and placed a set of towels on the sink while Frances in the kitchen made you a small snack with tea and crackers to help you relax Tommy had assisted you in washing your hair, and cleaning your body, every part of it.

His touch sent shivers down your spine, but you knew it had to be this way. There was no escaping Thomas Shelby.

He tucked you into bed and told Frances to make sure you stay hydrated and eat while he works during the day and to inform him, if you want to go out, see a friend, even come downstairs.

Sliding into the bed next to you, he turned off the bedside lamp and pulled your aching body close to his side.

Regardless of what he did to you, the feeling of being held in warm, strong arms helped you fall asleep as comfortably as you possibly could.

The following morning Frances had made you a full course breakfast and tea, and had your pills placed in a cup next to a glass of juice. “Good morning my love.” Thomas walked into the room dressed in his black and white suit, and his shiny shoes with a smile plastered on his face that money couldn’t buy.

His hair was still wet from the shower he must’ve taken. He sat down in the seat next to you, placing a kiss to your soft lips.

Glancing down at the cup of medication there was a pill that wasn't one your doctor had prescribed. Your eyes began to water, and your hands started shaking.

You eyed the mysterious pill, wondering if that was the sedative he had put in your tea yesterday morning. You glanced up at Tommy, who was watching you intently with his empty, bright blue eyes.

“Do as the doctor instructed.” Tommy unfolded the newspaper taking a sip of his coffee before glancing over at you still staring at the cup. His jaw clenched as he eyed the cup, looking at you without any sign of remorse from last night.

“I need you to be relaxed for later when I breed you more. Take your medicine sweetheart.”

[guppybibi]

𖦹 pairing: Dad!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think, d/n = daughters name, mild cursing

𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, this is bad lmao

And the world’s best husband who constantly makes his wife worried sick, award goes to Simon Riley! May we get a round of applause to commend this man? No? Alright, I’ll see myself out then. Hey, he doesn’t do it intentionally (most of the time). You gotta live a little, it’s not like he’s doing anything reckless. Oh but who can blame your heart when it dropped to the pits of your stomach upon seeing Simon carry your cherubic little toddler on one hand? He’s balancing her there like she’s a trained cheerleader! Maybe in the future, but she could barely even balance her own bobble head! Sure you may have been a teensy weensy bit over dramatic about it but accidents should be prevented as much as possible.

“Darlin’ look it’s fine, she’s even giggling.” He says just a little bit too casually, referring to your daughter who’s currently enjoying the little circus act they were performing. “Nope, put her down right this instant.” You command, and if Simon was scared of one thing it’d surely be you when you're angry. Guns and weapons would never compare to the fury of his wife. With a huff from him and a whiny complaint from your daughter, he sets her down onto the grassy yard.

“Oh what a killjoy, mama..” She puffs up her rosy cheeks, crossing her arms as she feigns hurt. You chuckle, looking up at Simon before speaking. “She’s got your accent. The rosy cheeks too.” You comment, lowering your head down to see your daughter avoiding eye contact with you as she acted offended.

"Which cheeks-”

“Nope, don't continue that sentence.” You could practically hear the way his lips formed a pout, copying your daughter. Pathetic, who knew a burly military man could get so soft for his little girl? “Awh come on eh? Don't be such a killjoy ‘luv.” He teases, using the same tone his little girl used.

Or maybe that one time Simon was blasting music the loudest the speaker could handle, it had a few curses and swear words here and there but his baby girl wouldn't pick up on it. He doubts she's even listening to daddy’s ‘bad’ music taste, so he's in the safe zone for sure!

Oh boy was he wrong…It was one of those days, you two were sharing chores—with you washing the dishes while he vacuumed around the house and hummed along to the song playing. While D/N was happily stacking her ABC blocks, she was silently listening to the song her daddy was playing. Even mumbling some of the parts since her daddy keeps putting this certain song on repeat. She barely knew the alphabet to begin with so she wouldn't even pick up on the words on the song, right?

“Mama!” She calls out, bringing her empty baby bottle as she signals for more milk. “Oh yes baby, I’ll fill your bottle right after I finish these.” You respond gently, rinsing the soapy suds away. “No, now bitch!” And with those words alone it felt like the toddler broke the sound barrier, silence filling the Riley’s usually noisy home when Simon slowly turned off the speaker. You and Simon share a look that plainly said “What the fuck.”, the man set the vacuum aside as it was time for another parenting lesson.

“Kiddo, that's no way to speak to your mum.” He lectures gently, taking her feelings into consideration. “Mama told you she’ll help you after, right? It's bad to call her names, mama sacrificed a lot for you.”

"But-” “No buts, kiddo. Your mum didn't spend 7 hours pushing you out and I didn't have to watch her scream out in pain like a demon just for you to curse at her.” Simon hoped he wasn't too harsh with his child, knowing they're tiny hearts are pretty fragile at this age. But he wasn't going to let it just slide, he watched his baby girl approach her mother and apologize. A smile gracing his face when he sees you forgive her and place a delicate kiss on her chubby cheek, he goes up to you once he sees the child take off to play in the living room.

“I think we should start considering the swear jar now.” You comment, placing a hand on your hip. “Definitely.”

“No more playing songs with any swear words from now on, Simon.” “Yes ma’am.”

[f6bron]

sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol. 

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile. 

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit. 

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs. 

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.