#that’s why you don’t bring a knife to a gun fight

[fenrhi]

I love women that can kick my ass *dies*

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I propose an idea! Romantic Yandere Mark Grayson with batsib mc….oh I can feel the chaos that these two worlds would bring😂

A/N: "BIYVjhKDjshuguj" was my inital reaction to this requests because this is tew good. If you've seen my Mark Grayson post then you know exactly how insane this mf is.

Warnings: Pure crack to be honest? Like this is not even a serious post. I was laughing the entire time. Don’t even know where I was going with this but…I had fun

Requests? always open!

Masterlist

Two black haired, attention whore yanderes with the same last name, walk into a room with their darling in it...who's winning?

I mean technically their meeting is not too far fetched. Mortal Kombat and DC had a crossover..and Invincible is also apart of Mortal Kombat which means- nvm, you didn't ask for that.

Here's the thing, everyone in the family dislikes Mark but yan! Mark and Dick HATE each other the most but because they are low key so similar. Mark is obviously way more extreme but i digress. He brings out the absolutely worse out of Dick.

Like Dick has picked up a Knife and contemplated murder.

Mark and Dick's interactions are hilarious though?? Like they both have the exact same fake smile and passive (heavy on the aggressive) behaviors.

"Ahhh, Mark, we're always pleased to host you since y'know your parents obviously need some sort of break from an irritant, such as yourself."

"Thanks, Dick! But regardless of how much of an irritant i am to them, least i still have two biological parents to care for me. Maybe it's because they're not patrons of the circus....?"

*backhands him*

Jason isn't subtle and has whipped out his guns, ready to blast that mf. He's been the closet to causing Mark to blow up the mansion. It was a whole thing and you dumped Mark over it but of course he gaslighted you.

I think the family doesn't like the fact you're dating someone who can easily take advantage of you. (ironic) Mark is clearly dangerous, he's half viltrumite and they may not know everything his people are capable of but they know he can cause a lot of havoc. Mark is not only a threat to you but to them as well. He puts them in a state of constant high alert. They're always staring him down, searching for any signs of danger. I'm sure Batman has a fail safe plan all ready to go. They are eager for the moment they can take this mf down. Do you think they have the supers on speed dial just in case? Ugh even uncle Clark is disapproving of this too.

Your sisters try endlessly to have heart to hearts with you because WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING????? MARK?! They'd rather you date poke-a-dot man or something because why????

Mark isn't a dumbass, he knows they hate him. He also knows just how scared they are of him and it gives him some sort of sick pleasure knowing he could truly have you all to himself if he really wanted to. But there's really no point in that yet, you're wrapped around his fingers. He totally has thought about going back to his planet with you and keeping your pretty self locked up where your family won't ever find you. That'd really stick it to em'

The cocky, manipulation is just oozing off him every time he's around. The way he shoots threatening looks towards your siblings when they try to get your attention or "playfully" insulting them. There's never a moment where his head isn't held high, looking down at your siblings as if they were beneath him...He runs this place when he's over. Which is all the time because Bruce is like okay, if you won't leave him, you have to be supervised.

Can you imagine combined family dinners with Mark's family and yours??? First, there is definitely a fight of who is sitting next to who. I'll say your brothers win this and are sitting on either side while Mark is fuming as he's across from you. The tension is so freaking high. It's rather silent around the table but everyone is looking at each other either like "I'm ready to kill him when you are" or "i'm going to kill you, mark...". I headcanon that even Bruce has beef with Nolan. They clash rather constantly on their differences of how to handle villains. Nolan is a stone cold killer to Bruce, who is rather set in his ways. It's no wonder Mark is his son. You aren't going to be with this kid for long. "So, Bruce? How's things on your side of town? Still letting your boyfriend out of jail so you can keep playing tag?" "The Joker isn't my boyfriend, i'm just not into murder, unlike some "heros" are. I like to set an example for my kids." "Ah, is that why Jason threatened to kill my son at gun point last month?"

You and Debbie are the only ones who like are trying to be civil and are sort of ignorant to everything going on.

"Um, so i made brownies with Mark's mother for everyone! Anyone want a piece?"

"Of course, love. You know your brownies are my favorite, i've been waiting all day."

Your siblings act like savages and eat the entire pan, stuffing it in their mouths so Mark cannot get any. Bruce doesn't do anything to correct his children out of spite.

Bruce is also debating on just handling them right here. He could have Kal-el over in matters of minutes and this could all be over with.

(Okay but Mark and Damien beating each other’s asses???? Damien cannot bite his tongue and Mark is trying to be nice because he’s a kid but he then Damien call him a "little bitch boy" and it pushes him over the edge. Mark just jumps over the table lollllll???? Sad thing is, Damien gets in tons of cuts with the butterknife he was just using for his sweetroll heheh))) "I though you were invincible...guess i was right in calling you a little bi-" "OH YOU'RE DYING TONIGHT"

[silaslich]

Words that melt in your mouth

Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader

Wc - 2k

Summary - Simon is finally home, you show him how that makes you feel.

Cw - 18+, smut

He looks different every time you see him.

Perhaps not literally, but you’ve always seen through the mask. Both real and metaphorical; it’s as if another layer of him is stripped away with each passing footstep through the pools of blood coagulating in the sand and across the broken slabs of concrete that are left in his wake. The splintered buildings crumble and the structures give way around him, yet he never quickens his pace, as if he welcomes it - almost like he’s waiting for it.

“Deserve it” he’d grumble to you, mumbled against your throat when you question a fresh scar or open gash, because his voice is more often than not a grumble or laced with a somber tone that totally contradicts what he might actually be saying.

You’ve learnt to live with that. The self depreciation that comes along with Simon Riley. You’d learnt to live with what little value he puts on his own life and happiness for the sake of feeling like he brought this on himself. He won’t ever change - no. He was made this way, further moulded by the death and destruction he brings with him when he flies over seas and straps a gun to his chest.

He doesn’t talk about it, not much, you never dare to ask. It’s one of those things you don’t talk about, biting your tongue till you taste copper out of morbid curiosity because it’s a basic human reaction when it comes to the life he leads.

Of course you ponder what killing someone is like, doesn’t everyone?

They’re lying if they say no. It’s human. It’s instinct, long ago maybe, but instinct. Fight or flight. Predetermined to be overcome by the adrenaline or fear, so much so it’s often the urge to fight that outweighs the instinct to flee.

If given a chance, a free pass; you’d ask him about all of it.

The bloodshed and the bullets, what it’s like to bury a knife so deep into someones throat that your knuckles meet the thick corded tendons that hold their oesophagus together.

What does death smell like, exactly?

How is it that you make the split second decision on ending someone’s life or letting them live?

The foggy skies filled with rifle smoke and looming rain clouds, washing away the blood splattered stains on the sandstone and what’s left of the men, women and children killed in the line of duty.

Part of you thinks he’d tell you, he’d tell you too much, make you regret asking.

He carries that weight in a way he shouldn’t, but how can’t he? It’s like a chain-link mass of lead attached to his ankle, dragged with him wherever he goes, the clank of metal resonating in his ears as the weight almost pulls him under - soon enough he’ll sink.

That’s why he looks different.

It’s not the scars that tally up with each visit or the way his lungs rasp with the tacky sickness of tobacco hindering them that have caused him to change. Nor the length of his hair, wether it’s newly cropped or he’s let it grow a bit longer, it’s not even the sadness in his eyes that he tries to hide as anger or as lacking any emotion at all.

It’s the way he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. His guilt and his sadness; an ugly creature with jagged teeth and weathered skin, a stench of booze emanating from its skin when it hisses his name in his ear. Hissing like the snakes in his childhood, tormenting him in his bed, when the image of his guilt and resentment build themselves into a tangible image -

He’s that little boy again. Too small to stand up for himself and his mother, too weak to open his mouth and say what he thinks, and too much of hopeless dreamer to pray to god that things will get better. They didn’t. He cared too much back then, now he doesn’t care at all.

It stings, somewhat, knowing he’s not fighting to come back, but at the end of it all - you don’t think you can blame him.

He’s sitting on the sofa, a book in hand, flipping mindlessly through the pages. You linger in the doorway, drinking him in for a second, he sits in his own blanket of silence. You assume he enjoys the quiet, he’s drowned in too much noise for months at a time, it must be a nice feeling to leave it all behind. If only for a few days.

You make your way over to him, he spares you a glance, watching you come close. “Alright darlin’?” His voice is low, it rumbles in his chest when he speaks, it makes your stomach flip. Even now, after so much time has passed you both by, the novelty never wears off. “Much better with you home” you push his hand down, the one holding the book, climbing over his knees and setting yourself astride his thighs. You feel the muscles in his legs tense beneath you, so sturdy, solid.

The book is discarded, tossed aside, all the focus is on you. He tilts his head, the light catches the scars littering his face, the one that cuts through his right eyelid and the one that drives down through his lips at a sharp angle are the most prominent, you tell him that they add character- he disagrees.

“That so?” He asks with a raised brow, you nod profusely, “indeed” you purse your lips “all the other fellas that come over aren’t nearly as fun as you” he pinches the slight flesh over your waistband and you squeal, he doesn’t let up. “You’re a cheeky fucker” he smiles, slightly toothy, he dips his chin when he smiles out of instinct and you wish he wouldn’t.

You cup his face in your hands, mapping out his features, the notch at the bridge of his nose from multiple bad breaks and the speckles of honey that litter the deep walnut-brown of his eyes, everything’s perfect to you. “You’re so pretty Simon” you huff, “it’s unfair” you jut out your lip and he pinches at your flesh again, “don’t start” he groans and you lean forward to bury your face in his neck, drawing him in. You wish you could fold him up really small and put him in your pocket, a keepsake, treasured forever. As long as you remember to take him out before you stick the clothes in the washer.

He searches your eyes, there’s that vulnerability that sticks there, disguised as so many other things, but nothing gets past you, not when it comes to him. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a tender peck. “So so unfair” you say between kisses, dotting them over his face, over his scars and freckles. He groans again in annoyance and his fingers root deeper into your flesh, one big hand on your thigh while the others at the small of your back. He’s had enough, “come ‘ere” he meets you half way, back straightened as one hand moves to cup your jaw, he kisses you in that tender way that makes your bones melt into nothingness.

Simon’s efforts are never halfhearted, he starts as he means to go on, that cruel tongue and those plush lips, a deadly combination. It’s never innocent, he kisses you with intent, with meaning and passion and you can never deny him. You’d be denying yourself, still after all this time you never get tired of this, of him and his ways.

You roll your hips forward, teasing, testing. Simon moans into your mouth. Unabashed, all for your ears to hear, he doesn’t hide it from you. His hand cups your throat, thumb stroking over your neck, tenderly. Your fingers root into his clothes, warping the fabric you’re sure, you need him closer. “Fuck” he rasps, the word travels from his lips to yours, right down to your core, dropping lower. He’s hard, it’s a given, doesn’t take him much when it comes to you, it’s an issue at this point - the two of you had to return home from food shopping the other day because you made an indirect innuendo about the uses for whipped cream and he couldn’t pick his mind up out of the gutter.

It’s not as if it’s still the honeymoon phase, so much time has passed and yet you’re still both horny at the drop of a hat.

You smile against his lips, catching his bottom lip with your teeth. “Can’t wait Simon”, he growls something low in his throat. You both fumble with zippers and pants, shoving layers out of the way, as quick as possible.

It’s a sensation you hope you’ll never have to forget when he pushes home, rooted deep inside you, his cock slicked in his own spit where he wasted only a second to ensure it didn’t sting too much. It’s always too much, there’s so much of him, but you wouldn’t ever change a thing. You gasp, rocking forward as Simon hisses, bruising your flesh in his grip, it’s always so good.

“Fuckin hell” he groans, tilting his head back till the cords of his throat bunch beneath his skin, straining. You preen, “it’s so good Simon” your voice carries off, rolling your hips to a rhythm as he guides you by the thighs. It’s gotten so hot, your brow is sweating and your skin is clammy, you don’t want to rush but you need this so badly. “Wanna cum Si” you moan, leaning forward as you brace your palms on his stomach, he nods. “Yeah? Wanna cum for me love? Gonna cum all over my cock?” he smirks, eyes black as a shark, a predator - you nod like a maniac.

Your skin all but shreds itself to pieces when he brings his hand between your bodies, his touch is like electric, sending sparks right to your nervous system. He knows just how to get you going, just how to bring your to the edge and let you teeter there for as long as he sees fit - today? He’s not playing games. “Oh god” you pant, throwing your head back, digging your nails into his shirt to keep yourself upright. “Right there, that it love?” He asks, tone dripping in sex, “yes- yes!” You gasp. He hums, watching as he pleasures you, his lids are low as he watches his own show. You moan, “I’m so close-god” you groan, you’re so nearly there.

His hips rise to meet your rhythm, fucking up into you, pressing deep - it’s heaven. He’s panting, “m’close love” he grunts, lids low as he focuses on where the two of you meet. You arch your hips and it’s enough to topple you both, the way you squeeze his cock as you cum sends him over the edge just after you and the sounds he makes will forever be engrained in your memory.

You’re both heaving, catching your breath, slicked in sweat as your clothes stick to your skin uncomfortably- no time to even remove them. He leans forward again and catches your lips sweetly, big soft Simon Riley, kissing you gently after fucking on his sofa, what a good day.

[mythmash]

Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 8 - Yorozu

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, toxic situationship, sukuna does not treat yorozu well, minor blood, arguing, sukuna being an asshole, knife/gun mention, a lot of makeup sex A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

(On a note that'll be circled back to, it’s no secret that Sukuna fucks

He had a ton of flings before he went to prison and probably had more after he got out before you came into the picture)

He has a cleaner for his apartment

It’s the old grandma of an old colleague/former cellmate who doesn’t give a shit about who he is or what he does

Whereas your nail tech adores him, his cleaner nags the shit out of him

Why can’t he pick up his own clothes?

He needs to get better flowers for you.

He did a shit job at parking his car.

Etc, etc.

But he keeps her around cause she does a good job, she’s not nosy, and he kinda likes her

(Don’t bring up how old ladies seem to love him, he has no idea what you’re talking about)

It surprises people to learn about that because they picture Sukuna and how he is and imagine he’d probably get some kind of maid/escort service where a hot woman comes over in a barely there french maid costume and “cleans”

Circling back to the first point though...

Throughout his flings he has one recurring fling

Yorozu’s the only one who’s been to his place but only because of the convenience cause she worked close-by and he could make her leave his apartment whenever he wanted

He gets out of prison and doesn’t call her for a while fully intending to string her along because he really doesn’t like her

He’s honestly super toxic to her

He doesn’t know why she keeps coming back

But then you happen and Yorozu who??

He’s never heard that name in his life??

It's months later, a little after you’ve moved in with him and someone knocks on the door while he’s in the shower

You answer it thinking it’s the cleaning lady which - why is she here so late?? That’s weird??

And now there some woman you’ve never seen before shoving her way into the apartment??

She sees you in Sukuna’s shirt and underwear and makes a snide remark about him finally ditching the old hag and getting some good eye candy to clean up

She makes herself at home, saying things along the lines of “Must be missing me, if you’re what he’s going for now. Oh well, I’m here now so you can leave. I’m sure he’s already given you a nice tip.”

You’re two seconds from fighting this woman when Sukuna walks out in just a towel, and he doesn’t even look at Yorozu

He just looks at you like “You comin’ to bed or what, princess?”

You don’t move or say anything, looking between him and a shocked Yorozu while your brain is like I am confusion, Sukuna explain

He finally huffs and gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend. Princess, this is…the fuck’s your name again?”

Yorozu goes through 87 different emotions eventually landing on pissed because not only did he not call her, now he’s replacing her with you?

And since when did Sukuna do girlfriends?

That title should’ve gone to her first!

There's crying and yelling (Yorozu) and disgust and anger (Sukuna) as he tries to get her out of his apartment

It’s almost entertaining until she grabs your face, screaming, “You’d choose this over me?!”

And her nails are fucking sharp so it doesn’t take much for them to cut your cheek

The second Sukuna hears you whine and sees the blood it’s over

He’s dragging Yorozu out by her hair, all the way to her car in nothing but his towel and you can vaguely hear screaming and shouting

It's a wonder no one calls the cops

He doesn’t come back for a good ten minutes and he’s pissed but you can tell he’s trying to keep calm for your sake

You want to tell him you’re fine but the more you think about the angrier you get because what the fuck was that? Who the fuck was that?

He won’t answer your questions because he genuinely doesn’t give a shit about Yorozu and he’s more concerned about your face and seeing the scratches is pissing him off more and more

It turns into an argument because you won’t let him touch you until he tells you about Yorozu and he won’t explain anything until you let him look at your face

It gets heated and there’s a small moment where you think it might turn into hate sex until Sukuna says something about how he should’ve let Yorozu stay if you were going to be this annoying about it

You go quiet, turn, and lock yourself in the bedroom

Sukuna’s banging on the door, yelling at you to let him in until he hears you crying on the side and oh.

Oh no.

Why does his chest hurt? What is this feeling? Is this…guilt? He didn’t even feel this way when he killed someone. This isn’t supposed to happen.

But it does, and he feels fucking awful

Because he knows he’s a piece of shit, he knows you know he’s a piece of shit, but he’s taken care to never be a piece of shit to you

And now he’s messed that up so he gives you space and ends up on the couch in his towel, listening to you cry yourself to sleep

He doesn't get any sleep

In the morning he picks the bedroom lock and carefully, quietly, gets some clothes

He lets you sleep in, does not look at your puffy, sad, clumsily bandaged face, and leaves to go get breakfast

He treats you to breakfast in bed from your favorite place, and his hands are wandering but they’re gentle and not going anywhere inappropriate

He feels a little better being allowed to touch you even if you aren't speaking to him

But then you look at him and thank him for breakfast but you just look so heartbroken and defeated

He reaches for your cheek and you turn away, and he hates it and how it makes him feel so much because you should never look like that and it should never be because of him

Normally this would be where he'd beat someone up for you, but he can't beat himself up so he goes with the next thing that comes to mind

The words “I’m sorry” have never been in his dictionary, but they are today and he says it so genuinely it surprises both of you

Sukuna kinda feels gross about it, but then you’re telling him it’s okay and you’re smiling so who cares how he feels

He convinces you to let him look at your cheek and while he’s doing that he tells you about Yorozu

He assures you she doesn’t mean anything to him and she’s nothing compared to you and you believe him, you do...

But there’s that little voice telling you that he must’ve kept going back to her for a reason

Sukuna notices because he notices everything about you, and decides he knows exactly how he’s going to make it up to you

It starts in the shower, where he cleans you with a reverence you didn't think he was capable of

Then you move to the sink where he has you facing the mirror so he can show you how much he loves you and how stunning you are

Then the bed where he spends so much time whispering about all the ways you’re better than anyone else he’s had and won’t let you cum until he’s sure that you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

After that, he puts you in charge

It’s whatever you want, whenever you want, and however you want it all day

You take him with you to get your nails done

…and take him back when you have to get them fixed after you mess one up clawing at his back when you fuck in the car right after

You get lunch and smirk at him when you order the most phallic shaped foods you can find

Nooo that’s not your foot on his crotch under the table while you’re subtly tonguing a banana split?? What is he talking about??

You take him shopping to make up for it and graciously let him pick a pair of heels for you, some lingerie for you, a vibrator for you, and whatever else with the coy promise of later

Later ends up being the fitting room, and sex shop’s employee break room, and the car again

You make dinner and he’s doing his best to distract you and yeah this has to simmer for thirty minutes? Why is he aski— oh, you’re on the counter.

Oh, he’s on his knees.

Ok, yeah.

You can work with this.

Dinner is pretty good.

Cleanup is better when he “accidentally” spills wine on your neck and insists on cleaning it up with his tongue

And oop-

Now he’s laid out the table while you ride him

Oh well, it was time for dessert anyway

After dinner you model the heels and the lingerie for him

You give him a dance or two and make sure he keeps his hands to himself until he can’t take it and you’re fucking on the couch, the floor, the coffee table, the bookcase, the wall, the door to the bedroom-

You finally get to the bed and you’ve got his knife in one hand, following its trail up his dick with your tongue

He’s about to lose his goddamn mind when you pull out the gun he keeps under his pillow and the vibrator

something something quit torturing the poor boy something something

It’s like 2am, you’re passed out, and Sukuna is still reeling from having his soul nearly fucked out of him

While he doesn’t want to ever hurt you like that again, he feels you cuddle up to him and moan his name in your sleep, and that toxic part of him thinks that it was a little bit worth it

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I have a plan...

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n plans to escape the camp, but she's not running away alone...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ killing people/ burning a building/ Y/n being a dystopian main character/ use of Y/n/ kissing/ not following the story line/

Word count: 1.9k

She was a shy person, never talked back, took the punch the Germans gave her, she was the perfect person. Y/n was at the wrong place at the wrong time, one day, she was coming back from the market, but German soldiers stopped her to check her papers, but she forgot them at home. She was accused of being a spy and was thrown into a POW camp. Bucky didn’t understand her, why she wasn’t fighting, why she didn’t say that she wasn’t a spy. If he was in her place, he would’ve tried to run away.

Buck was ordering the soldiers to pull the stump, Y/n was sitting beside them, on the stairs, reading a book. ‘’Y/n, why don’t you come and help’’ one of them spat. She looked at him, said nothing and continued to read her book. ‘’Whatever, you’re useless anyway’’ he mumbled. ‘’Shut up, Crank’’ Buck defended the woman. She was in her own world, Y/n didn’t even hear Buck. As she read the pages of her book, an idea came to her mind, she didn’t want to run away alone, if she escaped, she was bringing everyone with her. She was reading For Whom the Bells Tolls from Ernest Hemingway, the story inspired her to riot against her captors, she was going to burn this place to the ground.

‘’Y/n, you’re more silent than usual, what’s on your mind?’’ Bucky asked the woman, who was looking outside. She looked at him, smiled and blinked. ‘’Do any of you have a lighter?’’ she asks, with a raspy voice. ‘’Why do you need a lighter?’’ Murph asked her. ‘’Stuff’’ she simply replied. ‘’Stuff, what stuff?’’ Bucky asked as he handed her his lighter. ‘’Just be ready, soon, we’ll run away.’’ she announces. Crank starts to laugh, not believing what he was hearing. ‘’Yeah right, and I’m the Queen Elizabeth’’ he laughed. But Y/n wasn’t laughing. ‘’Thank you for the lighter, Bucky’’ she thanked him. After eating, she quickly cleaned the knife before beginning to chop her hair off. She had long hair, something the Germans could identify her with, now, she cut them off, barely recognizable. ‘’Why did you cut your hair off?’’ Buck asked. ‘’I was tired of having them this long’’ she partially lied. It was true, but it was so that the soldiers didn’t recognize her.

‘’What are you planning, Y/n?’’ Bucky whispered. She turned her head to look at the men. Everyone else was asleep, she was awake to think about every last detail of her plan. ‘’Can I trust you?’’ she whispered back. Bucky nodded, getting closer to the woman. ‘’I don’t know when, but I’ll do something that is going to give everyone a chance to escape’’ she said, not wanting to give away her hole plan. Bucky was confused, she seemed truthful, but she was to shy to do anything. ‘’Can I help?’’ he asked. Y/n looks at him, she thought he was going to laugh. ‘’Can you find me flammable liquids, like alcohol or gasoline?’’ she asks. ‘’Why? Planning on making a bonfire?’’ he chuckles. ‘’Kind of, and can you show me how to use a gun?’’ she asked, seriously. ‘’Y/n, what the hell are you planning?’’ he asked, concerned. ‘’You’re going to help me or not?’’ she asked, kind of annoyed that he was asking 300 questions. ‘’Yes, but – ‘’ they got cut off by another voice. ‘’I’m helping too, what’s the plan?’’ Buck asked as he got down from his bunk. ‘’Is there another person that is awake?’’ Y/n asked, no one else responded. ‘’I can’t tell you everything, just can you find something to start a fire and I need to know how to use a gun’’ she repeats.

It has been 2 weeks since they had their talk, Bucky found some alcohol that could be used to start a fire, and Buck showed her how to use a gun. She was ready, so was her plan. Tonight was the night, she warned Buck and Bucky to be ready to run, but the two of them were really confused. It was about 0200 in the night when the boys heard commotions outside.

Y/n entered the supply building, with the alcohol bottle tucked in her vest. She was dressed in black; she took Bucky’s cloths to do so. She saw a pistol on a wooden crate, she took it as she began to pour alcohol all over the room. She heard German soldiers coming, so she hid behind something, with a mirror she found, she looked at them, they weren’t armed, and they were drunk. She had to think, because if she shot them, it would be too loud, and her plan could fail. It was dark in here, there was no lights, so she took a wooden weapon she crafted and planted it in one of the men’s throats, before the other could realize it, Y/n had already killed him. She was officially a killer, but she killed for justice, she had enough. She took the men’s guns and put them in her pocket, after all she could use them. She continued to put the flammable liquid all over the floor. ‘’Oi! What are you doing?’’ one soldier yelled. Shit she’d been caught, luckily, he was alone. She turned around, pointing the gun at him. ‘’Hands in the air’’ she ordered. The men looked afraid, but as he put his hand in the air, he began to yell and ask for help.

The sound of a gun shot echoed around camp; Buck looked at Bucky. ‘’What the hell did she do?’’ they saw soldiers running to the supply building, so they got outside and ran too. They wanted to see what was going on.

She walked outside, guns in her pocket as she looked at the trail of alcohol on the floor, Germans were running towards her, so she lit the lighter and dropped it on the ground. The building automatically caught on fire and a siren was ringing in the camp. She ran towards the fence she told the guys to meet her. They waited for her at the gate, Bucky saw her running towards them. She had blood on her, she was panting, but she had a knife in her hands. ‘’Move’’ she ordered as she cut open the fence.

Run, that’s what her brain was telling her to do. Her, Buck, Bucky, Murph, Crank, Alexender and Richard were running in the filed next to the camp. Y/n was smiling and laughing, even if it was for a minute; she was free. German soldiers were running after her, dogs too. ‘’We’re going to reach a bridge, trust me and jump in the water’’ she panted. ‘’You’re crazy!’’ Alexender said. ‘’Hey, I got you out! Do as I say!’’ she mentally rolled her eyes as they reached the bridge. ‘’C’mon don’t be scared’’ she breathed out. But they all hesitated, that gave time for the Germans to catch up a little bit. They were shooting at them. ‘’You want to get shot or what?’’ she asked them. She didn’t wait for their answers as she jumped in the water. The water was deep enough so she wouldn’t hurt herself. When the guys saw that she jumped, they followed her. ‘’Stick to the side and don’t move’’ she whispered to them. They all got closer to the side of the river, they wanted to wait for the German to see that they drowned.

The sun was rising as they continued to walk in the forest, they didn’t know how far they were from the camp, but they’ve been walking all night. No one had said a thing since the river, only when Y/n asked who the better shooter was to give the 3 guns she grabbed from the supply room. That was the only time they’ve talked. ‘’Okay, we can take a break’’ she announced as she sat on a rock. They catch their breath, looking at each other, laughing in relief. ‘’What the hell did you do?’’ Murph chuckles, looking at the woman. ‘’I made the supply building blow up, killed 3 guys and escaped’’ she sighed, smiling. ‘’So, that was the gun shots we heard?’’ Richard asked. Y/n nodded, wiping off the sweat on her forehead. ‘’I only shot one, the two other I stabbed them with the wood weapon I crafted’’ she explains. ‘’Thank you, Y/n, I can’t say how much I want to kiss you for getting us out’’ Bucky chuckles. They all start to laugh. ‘’Not so useless after all, right Crank?’’ she teased. ‘’Useful as fuck’’ he exhaled, smiling. ‘’C’mon, we have to walk more, we’re going to unoccupied Slovakia, or someplace where we can find American soldiers’’ she explains. ‘’You thought about everything, didn’t you?’’ Bucky smirked. ‘’Told you I had a plan’’ she smiled.

They.ve been walking for 4 days, taking little breaks to rest, hunting animals to eat, but the main goal was reaching American soldiers. As they reached a small village, they heard soldiers talk, they stopped to talk and began to listen to the voice. They caught small sentence, but it was in English. ‘’We did it’’ Buck smiled. They got out, with their hands in the air, to show that they weren’t a threat. ‘’We’re Americans!’’ Buck announced. The soldiers turned around and looked at the group. ‘’Keep your hands in the air!’’ one of them ordered. ‘’Tom, calm down, they look like POW’’ one of his colleagues announced. ‘’Where did you guys come from?’’ Tom asked. ‘’Stalag Luft 3, Poland’’ Y/n explains. ‘’What?’’ the Americans soldiers couldn’t believe it, they traveled that far, it was impressive. ‘’You guys are safe now.’’

Y/n head was leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, they were in the plane ride back to his base. ‘’Where are you going to go?’’ Bucky asked the woman. ‘’I don’t know, I can’t go back home, anyway, there’s nothing left for me there. I’ve been gone for 6 months; my village probably thinks I’m dead’’ she vented. ‘’They’re not going to let me fly again, why don’t you come live with me on the base?’’ he suggested. Y/n lifts her head up and looks at the men. ‘’Is this a twisted way of asking me out?’’ she smiled. Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Y/n giggled before getting closer to him. ‘’I’ll gladly come and live with you’’ she said, against his lips. He was flustered and red like a tomato. His instincts kicked in as he closed the gap between them and kissed her. She immediately kissed him back as she put a hand behind his neck. ‘’Argh! Get a room!’’ Murph gaged in disgust. Y/n smiled as she pulled away from the kiss. ‘’We will’’ Bucky whispered, only for Y/n to hear. The woman blushed and giggled. They escaped the camp, without any important injuries and now they were tied together for life. Even if they didn’t tell her, each man was grateful for her, she saved their lives. Bucky was going to repay her by spending the rest of his life with her, because he was in love with her. And she was in love with him…

[actualbuckybames]

Another scene from that fic I haven't posted. Excerpt of this scene under the cut

---

Bucky falls the instant he steps inside the facility. Vertigo takes hold and then he’s falling, falling away from himself and away from the howling storm trying to tear him apart. He falls and the Soldier weathers the storm, the memories hitting him like hail. It’s just pain. Pain and noise. He’s done more under worse conditions.

He takes the pain and burns it like fuel as he plunges into the depths, puts the noise where it can’t disrupt his focus. The mission is to confirm this facility’s purpose and purge it. No prisoners. As always, no survivors.

A quarter of them try to fight. They die.

A quarter of them try to run. They die.

The rest beg for their lives. They die.

The last makes a stand in the bare concrete room housing the cryo unit. He manages to separate the Soldier from his guns with a kind of stun baton that leaves the metal arm jolting and uncooperative, but on his next lunge, the Soldier grabs the baton halfway down the shaft with his right hand and crushes it.

His left arm resets and locks in for a punch that sends the man crashing into the cryo pod. Though blood streams from his nose, he fumbles at his waist and unsheathes a knife. The Soldier almost smiles. When the Soldier draws one of the tantos from his back, the man pales. He’s fast enough to dodge when the Soldier whips it at his head and just barely quick enough to catch the second tanto on his own blade when the Soldier closes the gap.

Caught up in the flurry of blows, the Soldier lets the grin twist his lips under his mask. This man is good. Very, very good. As good as anyone can get with unmodified flesh and bone.

But he is unmodified. Sweat gleams on his face and he pants with each lunge, parry, and dodge. The Soldier feels no exhaustion and gives no quarter, chasing him around the small space and ensuring he never has any delusions of reaching the door.

For a minute, the man thinks he’s holding his own. The Soldier lets him think that. It feels good to stretch these muscles, to wield a knife in a way he hasn’t since fighting Captain America—

Fighting Steve—

“Перешеек,” the man gasps, and the Soldier freezes. That is what that word means: silence and stillness. The land between shifting waters, immovable and eternal. His muscles lock. The arm’s plates lock. Everything locks and his thoughts break against his body in waves.

The man doubles over with his hands on his knees and heaves for breath. Drops of sweat splatter on the floor, joining the blood he’s shed from the dozen small cuts the Soldier has inflicted on him over the course of their fight.

They’re fighting. Right. But the man said перешеек—he’s a handler. The Soldier obeys the handler.

“Fuck,” the man straightens and glares at the Soldier, “you are fucking terrifying.”

The Soldier cannot respond, but his muscles are starting to itch with a need to move. There is a headache crawling out from the base of his skull with a sound like a scream.

“You killed all of them, didn’t you?” He peers past the Soldier, towards the door. “I don’t understand why they keep saying to bring you back alive. You’re not worth this.”

He knows: the knife in his hand belongs in the man’s eye, in his brain. But перешеек holds him fast. Can’t disobey the handler. Can’t move. Can’t do anything other than watch as the handler steps close and lines up his own knife.

“Fuck that,” the man says, face contorting in anger. “Fuck you.”

He drives the knife into the Soldier’s chest.

Pain crashes through the Soldier’s mind in a tsunami that rips away the shackles of перешеек. Clarity, as it always does even without the burn of electricity, follows in its wake: this man isn’t his handler. He doesn’t have authority to override the mission. The mission is to take no prisoners and leave no survivors and he is still alive.

The Soldier’s left hand slams into the man’s chest and throws him back. Something cracks on impact; a rib, from the man’s grunt and subsequent gasp. With his right hand, the Soldier rips the knife out of his chest. The man’s next sound of pain is cut off by that knife when Soldier drives up into his brain through the fleshy underside of his jaw. A puppet with its strings cut, the man crumples and the Soldier lets him fall. Even lets him keep the knife.

For just a moment, the room is silent, no more echoes of combat bouncing off its bare gray walls. The Soldier’s breathing is the loudest sound.

He spares the next moment to examine the tear in his jacket. The wound beneath is bleeding heavily from him pulling the knife out but, upon inspection, it shows itself to be narrow and small. At the angle he struck at, the blade must have hit bone, to be stopped from going any deeper. Or the man underestimated the Soldier’s muscle density and the force required to rip through it.

The wound requires cleaning, but he halts his steps toward the exit and the medical supplies beyond when a quiet beep reaches his ears. It’s a sound he knows, a sound deeper than anything a knife can reach. He turns and faces the cryo pod. The beep comes again. Underneath it is the soft hiss of air through narrow tubes. His left hand twitches and he crosses the room in three long strides.

There’s a man in the cryo pod. That doesn’t make sense; this is the Soldier’s pod, even if he has no intention of using it ever again.

He wipes at the fog on the small window and frowns at the pale, gaunt face framed with ice crystals that rests on the other side. That frown deepens when the face and its tousled blond hair tugs at frosted strings of memory in his mind. As the monitor beeps a soft and infrequent report on the man’s vitals, recognition gives way to vertigo and the Soldier—no, no, James, Bucky, my name is Bucky—nearly collapses against the pod. Frigid metal bites into what little exposed skin makes contact but he doesn’t feel it because his eyes are fixed on Steve. Steve, who’s stuck in the pod. Steve, who’s stripped of his serum and small and week and frozen. Steve, whose vitals are sounding off ever slower while Bucky’s own heartbeat thunders in his ears.

GET HIM OUT. The order screams through his thoughts and tears up everything else on its way. He’s slamming his fist on the emergency release before he even thinks to move. But the pod doesn’t open. Doesn’t open when he hits the release again. Doesn’t open when he tries the actual command sequence for defrosting. Doesn’t open when he slams his fist into it with a shout. And still Steve's vitals are slowing.

Static bites at his focus and black creeps in at the edges of his vision. All he can see is the cryo chamber. Steve. Steve. That cold—he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It never leaves. It’s enough to kill Stevie. More than enough.

God, he might already be dead. When was the last beep?

“Stay with me,” he begs the silent figure while he claws at every seam in the pod, hunting for purchase. “Don’t you dare quit, you’re too stubborn to stop now, you hear me? Too stubborn by half. Stay with me, don’t leave.”

He hasn’t heard a beep in—

In—

His metal hand smashes into the side of the pod, denting the metal enough to expose a lip he can fasten his fingers around. He rips the panel away with a roar but it’s just an exterior support. There are so many more. So many.

He’s yelling at Steve, now, so Steve can hear him over the sound of Bucky tearing apart the pod. Screaming for him to stay, to wake up, to stay god please stay, because the monitor isn’t beeping anymore and—

The last hinge gives way with a shriek and the pod door goes crashing across the room. Searingly cold air blasts over him, forcing his eyes into a squint, but he reaches in blindly with his left hand and finds—

Nothing. The pod is empty. Blinking away tears, he stares at the unoccupied restraints in mute confusion, the adrenaline pumping through his veins only making that confusion spiral faster as frigid mist spreads across the floor. A blink and that mist is gone. The cold is gone.

A glance to the right: no vitals monitor. A glance back at the pod: no Steve.

There’s blood roaring in his ears, the ground is swaying under his feet, he can’t get enough air, and he's falling.

---

He comes to after a few seconds, finding himself sprawled on his right side. Another few seconds pass before he pieces together what happened and why his right shoulder and head ache. The wound in his chest is still bleeding. It’s the easiest thing to focus on with his mind fogged by confusion and pain.

Thick drops of blood pool around the fingers of his hand when he brings it near and then fall to the floor. He watches them, transfixed. And then notes how bright red his blood is. A good sign.

With a bit of effort, he gets his left hand braced against the floor in front of him and, fingers scraping on the concrete, slowly levers himself up while putting as little strain on his core as he can. He uses the cryo pod for support as he gets to his feet, leaving a bloody handprint on the metal. The front of his jacket is shiny with blood and the room spins a bit when he stands straight, but it’s manageable once he leans against the wall and takes a few measured breaths. He looks to his right; the cryo pod is empty.

Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

[reiwanwan]

Whispers of the Tide

On a peaceful shoreline, Y/n Shelby awaits her executioner, Luca Changretta.

This is part 2 of Beneath the Streetlamp

content includes: Mentions of guns, blood, mentions of killing

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the water as the waves lapped gently against the shore. Y/N stood at the water's edge, her feet bare, toes sinking into the wet sand. The sea had always been a place of peace for her, a place where she could let her mind drift away from the chaos of life. It reminded her of simpler times—playing with her siblings along the shoreline, laughing, running, and forgetting, if only for a moment, the troubles that always seemed to chase them.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed the footsteps approaching from behind. But she wasn’t surprised either. Luca Changretta was the type of man who always found his way to her. It had become almost routine, this quiet dance they shared, knowing what was coming but never acknowledging it outright.

"Always finding me, aren’t you?" she said, her voice calm, as if greeting an old friend rather than a deadly enemy.

Luca smirked as he stepped closer, his hands in his pockets. "I’ve got a knack for it," he replied smoothly, his eyes studying her. There was something about her calmness that always unnerved him.

"How’d you find me this time?" she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips as she turned slightly to face him.

He shrugged, glancing out at the sea. "I’m always finding you, Y/N," he said softly, a strange note of affection in his tone. They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the waves, two people who should have been enemies but seemed more like two weary souls sharing a quiet moment of understanding.

"Do you like the sea?" he asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving the horizon. "I do," she replied. "It makes me forget about everything. Just for a little while, it’s like none of it matters."

Luca stared at her, and for a brief moment, he saw a glimpse of something—something he wasn’t sure he had ever seen in her before. Peace, maybe. Or acceptance. He wasn’t sure.

Y/N’s next words cut through the air like a knife, casual but heavy with meaning. "So," she said softly, "is today the day?"

Luca’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at her, the faintest hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Today’s the day."

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t try to run or fight. She just nodded, as if she had been expecting it all along. "I didn’t bring anything to protect myself," she said lightly, almost like it was a joke, but there was no humor in her voice. "Maybe it’s just my time."

Luca’s grip on the gun tightened, though it remained at his side for now. "I prayed for you once, you know," he said, his voice low.

Y/N’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I remember. I told you to pray." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thank you for that."

He let out a short laugh, though it held no real amusement. "What are you going to do? Will you tell my father I’m a good boy?" He tried making one last attempt at a joke.

Y/N turned to him fully, her expression soft. "Maybe I will."

"Don’t," Luca said quickly, shaking his head. "That’d be lying. And anyway, he’s probably watching over me right now, seeing everything I’m about to do" He said pointing to the sky.

Silence hung between them again, heavy and suffocating. Luca knew what he had to do, and Y/N…well, she was ready. Or at least she acted like she was. He didn’t know why she wasn’t fighting back, why she wasn’t begging for her life like everyone else had. Maybe she was just as tired of all this bullshit as he was.

The time had come. Luca raised the gun, pointing it at her head. Y/N met his gaze, her eyes unblinking, calm, and full of acceptance. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. And in that moment, Luca realized she wasn’t afraid. She had resigned herself to this fate long ago.

He pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed along the shoreline, the seagulls flying off in startled flocks. Y/N fell, her body crumpling to the ground like a rag doll. Luca stood there for a moment, staring down at her. He felt something, but he wasn’t sure if it was regret or relieved. Maybe a bit of both.

After a moment, he knelt down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She was gone, her eyes closed peacefully, as if she had simply fallen asleep. He carried her to the nearby hospital, placing her gently on the steps, making sure her body was arranged in a way that looked respectful. Then, without a word, he took off his coat and draped it over her, covering her completely.

It was only when he walked away that he allowed himself to feel anything. He lit a cigarette, his hands shaking slightly as he smoked. He didn’t feel bad exactly. He had to do it. He wanted to do it. It was part of the plan, part of the life they both lived. But there was something about her—about Y/N—that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she had been as lost as he was.

He stared at the sea for a long time, thinking of her, of the calmness in her eyes, the acceptance in her voice. He exhaled a long breath, letting the smoke drift away with the wind.

"Maybe she was just as broken as me," he muttered to himself, flicking the cigarette into the sand before turning and walking away from the sea, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly understood him.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi dear! Love your writing 💗

what about a vampire villain x hero where the hero gets hurt and starts bleeding and the villain can smell the blood and wants to taste the hero? Make it spicy if you want, no pressure!

The villain’s eyes widened involuntarily. Although they tried their best to fight their instincts, they knew this feeling all too well. They were losing control.

“Shit,” the hero cursed. They took off their cape — heroic yet inconvenient — and pressed the fabric into their shoulder, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

The villain’s mind zeroed in on the blood. They could practically taste it on their tongue already when they imagined pushing their teeth into the hero’s soft skin, holding their neck in place.

Biting the hero was, they had to admit, a long time desire they had been pushing away. Feeling their skin against the hero’s, hearing them breathe, watching them move…it was something the villain dreamt about at night when their bed was empty. It was something they thought about on dates with other people.

The villain didn’t understand those feelings, not really. They weren’t sure if they wanted the hero to themselves or if they wanted them dead or if it was something completely different.

“You…” The villain squeezed their eyes shut and pushed the hero against their couch. They tried to be gentle but they were stronger than they wanted. The hero gasped when they hit the pillows. The villain hadn’t expected to find their enemy injured. Actually, they had wanted to rob the hero. “Don’t move.”

One hand held the hero in place, pushing their hips into the couch whereas the other took the cape.

“Knife?” the villain asked. “Or is it a gun shot?”

“I got stabbed,” the hero said and they cursed again when the villain removed the cape. They looked pale already. They were still in their sweaty suit.

“There’s a lot of dirt on your cape,” the villain said softly. “Not good for the wound.”

They stared at it, stared at the blood and allowed themselves to be transfixed by it. God, they had never felt anything like this for a human being. They weren’t supposed to fall for someone so…weak and mortal.

Suddenly, the hero grabbed the villain’s wrist.

“I think I need to go to a hospital,” they said. “Hurts like a bitch.”

The villain scrutinised them. Looked at their tired eyes, their dirty face. Whatever the villain saw in them, they realised they didn’t see any imperfections. What a scary thought. They knew they could never allow themselves to be in a relationship.

“Your identity, though?”

“I’d rather live and be exposed than die here,” the hero said. They pushed themselves off the couch and tried to walk through their living room, heading towards the kitchen. Their laboured breaths scared the villain and the wound didn’t look good. It was still bleeding, still a threat.

“…l’m good at stitching. I have some years of experience,” the villain confessed. “I’ll bring you to a hospital if you want to but I can also provide some aid.”

They followed the trembling hero who was struggling to stay on their feet. Without a second thought, the villain grabbed their waist and held them up. Holding them close as the hero gasped for air.

There were tears in their eyes.

“I…I don’t want to die,” the hero whispered. “Please…”

They grabbed the fabric of the villain’s suit, searching for some stability. It was awkward — the villain hadn’t planned on having the hero in their arms tonight, although that was a distant desire of theirs.

But weirdly, the villain’s body told them to protect the hero.

Why was a mystery to them. Whatever had happened, something deep down inside them forced them to act, forced them to take care of the hero.

The villain bit their bottom lip, trying to think.

“I understand,” they said. Their eyes jumped towards the blood. God, they could smell it. They could almost taste it. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“No.” The hero cupped their enemy’s face and pulled them even closer, making the villain panic. Both lost their balance and once again, the villain pushed the hero into the couch. This time, they held them and made sure the hero wouldn’t hurt themselves. It was much gentler. And way too intimate. “Please, I want you to handle this.”

“I— I can’t tell if that’s what you really want,” the villain said. “You’ve lost a lot of blood already and I am not sure if I can control myself…and I’m here to rob you.”

“You’re not a monster,” the hero whispered. “Please help me. I trust you. I need you.”

“Fuck.” Drinking blood satisfied the villain to an unbelievable degree. They could barely keep themselves at bay once their teeth sank into prey. What were they thinking? Offering their help when they couldn’t even hold themselves back?

Were they really that desperate to have someone to take care of? Did they love that? Did they love feeling needed? Or was it the hero who made them feel this way?

“Please,” the hero begged. Something close to a whimper escaped their mouth. Quite adorable. They pulled the villain closer, close enough that their lips almost touched. It was probably a thoughtless action on the hero’s part. However, it meant the world to the villain.

Suddenly, they realised how suggestive the position was they found themselves in. They were on the couch, on top of the hero. Close enough to kiss and lick and bite.

Maybe the hero was worth more than the villain’s own desires.

“I’ll do it,” they said, whispered almost. “Lay still, please.”

[samandcolbyownme]

Killionare Part 4

Killionare part 4

Killionare part 4

Killionare part 4

Warnings are for the WHOLE SERIES | SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons, knives, guns, gunfire, KNIFE PLAY, blood, injuries, wounds, arguing, some physical fighting, mentions of drugs, smoking weed, mentions of car accident, fbi!reader, reader being restrained, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m rec), violence and filth

Word Count: 2.5k | unedited

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“You may not have done the killing, but there’s blood on your hands, too, sweetheart.”

You stare at your hands, rubbing your thumb over the pads of your other fingers. Jake’s words constantly replaying in your head.

It’s been two days since you’ve seen Jake, he did say he’d be gone for a few, but you never how many a few is with him.

“Good morning.” Ben sets a coffee down on the desk, “You left early this morning.”

“Yeah, I wanted to get a jump on the day.” You bring the cup to your lips, “When do you go back?” You look up at Ben as he sits down across from you.

He shrugs, “I think I’m going to see about staying.”

“Do you think that’s the right idea?”

He furrows his brows, “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not want me home?”

“No I do, I just-“ you sigh, “I just think there’s more to your shooting than anyone thinks, Ben.”

He leans in, “What are you saying?”

You stammer over your words and he cuts you off, “You think they did this to me? Y/n, my shooter is in prison.”

“I’m just saying that we can’t be.. too careful. Not with something like this.” You push the folder over towards him, “They struck again. And again. They’re ahead of us.”

“What the hell.” He stretches over the desk, pressing his fingers into the folder and drags it over to him, “These are people-“

You cut him off, “That Cody called about protective custody.”

“One of the wives this time?” Ben looks up at you, shaking his head, “We need to get more patrols in the area. This is..” he sighs, “Fuck.” He slams his hand down on the folder and you tilt your head, “Why don’t we go talk to some of the people that are on the list to be taken into protective custody?”

“Think the chief will sign off on that?” Ben raises his brows and you shrug, “Worth a shot, right.”

——

“You have zero faith in me.” You laugh as you get into the cruiser. Ben chuckles, “I just didn’t think you were up for putting yourself on the line just yet.”

“I’ve been dying to get back to work. Plus, if I’m here then I can’t hear you and-“

“Okay, okay. Okay. I get what you’re saying.” Ben laughs, “Sorry about that.”

You shrug, “I just turn my tv up.” You laugh, letting out a sigh as you watch out the window, “Where to first?”

“Um, I belive it’s the home of Robert and Emilie Kearson.” Ben checks the paper and nods, “Yeah. Then I think, right next door if I’m not mistaken is Charlie and Heather Drivot.”

“Did you want to stay together on this, or did you want to take one and I take the other?” You look over at him and he shrugs, “I’d prefer if we stick together.”

——

“Hello, Mrs Kearson?” You smile at the woman standing in the opening of the door, “I’m agent y/n y/l/n and this is officer y/l/n.”

“Is this about the-“

“Yes.” Ben cuts them off, “It’s about what happening to other men, and now women, like you and your husband.”

You glance at Ben and take a breath, “May we come in and just give you the rundown of what we want to do to keep you and your family safe?”

“Robert won’t-“ the woman shakes her head, “He won’t. He thinks he’ll make it out of this.”

“I don’t want to scare you any further, but this is your best chance at-“

You cut Ben off, “Here’s my card, Mrs. Kearson. Please, if you change your mind or have any questions, please call.”

“Is your husband home?” Ben asks and the woman takes your card, “No. He’s next door with Charlie.”

“Thank you.” You nod, subtly pulling Ben with you, “Why would you-“

Gunshots catch your attention and you and Ben run to the house next door, “Robert Kearson! Charlie Drivot!” You yell as you slowly open the door, “Ben, call for backup.”

“Already done.”

You nod, the sound of painful screams fill the house and you huff, “I’m going on.”

“Y/n, no!” Ben grabs your arm and you rip it away, “They need help.”

“You don’t know if they’re still in there or not! You can’t fucking go in there.” Ben yells and a woman, covered in blood, opens the door fully.

She’s panting, sobbing, completely losing it.

“What happened?” You wrap your arm around her shoulder and she falls into you. You look at Ben, “We need EMS, now!”

You try to console the woman, but nothing is calming her down.

You peer into the house from the doorway and your breath is hitched in your throat as you see Jake standing at the top of the steps, giving you a smirk before he walks back the hall.

Not even a minute later, another gun shot was heard and everything fell completely silent.

The slowly woman turns back around, her body jolting with her silent sobs.

“Ma’am. Ma’am.” You try to pull the woman back but she breaks from your grasp, rushing into the house and upstairs to where you saw Jake.

Her blood curdling scream fills the house and a chill goes down your spine, “Go around back.. I got this covered.”

You heard sirens in the distance and the only thing you could think was, run Jake, run!

The squad cars come to a screeching stop, guns drawn as they run towards the house.

“Tell me what’s happening, y/l/n.” One of the officers says and you freeze.

“C’mon, y/n. What happened.”

“Ben and I went next door, talked to Mrs. Kearson. Heard screaming. Ran over here. The woman, Heather, she went back in, but I-I don’t know. I sent Ben around back.” You switch your gun to your other hand and wipe your palm on your jeans, “I didn’t see anything. Just.. heard the shot.”

“Are you okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

He nods and looks around, “Going in.”

You rush in with the other officers and agents. You right up the steps and you come to a hard stop when you see the room, “Guys.” You turn your head slightly, keeping your eyes on the wall, “Guys!”

“What? What is-“ the officer stops, “What the fuck.”

In what you assume is blood, Killionaires is written across the wall.

Your eyes move to the woman laying next to the man, dead.

“Oh, Heather.” You look up, taking a shaky breath, “Fuck. I could have-“

“No, don’t do tha-“

“I could have stopped her. I could have saved her.” You bend down, head between your forearms, “Fuck!”

“Hey is every- what the hell.” Ben takes a second before looking down at you, “Hey, hey. What’s going on?”

“She’s kicking her own ass for Heather.”

“Don’t do that, y/n.” Ben drops down, his hand rubbing your back for comfort, “You tried, okay. I saw. She made up her mind.”

“This isn’t your fault y/n.” The officer says, “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”

They pull you to your feet and you push them away, walking down and out of the house as you wipe away your tears.

You can normally handle death. You’ve never broken down about a case, maybe two times in your career but they were, special cases.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You walk over to the one car, slamming your hand down on the hood. You were strung out.

Burnt out from playing two games at once.

“Y/n?” The chief walks up, “What’s going on?”

“No matter..” you sniffle, “What I do..” you laugh, shaking your head as you take a deep breath, “I can’t keep anyone safe.”

“You tried your best, y/n. Some people.. just can’t be saved.”

You wanted to so badly spill everything. Stick your hands out and let them cuff you, but you just couldn’t.

Not yet.

“We were right there.” You motion to the house next door, “Right here. Damn it.”

“That’s the job. Always being one step behind the perps.” The chief reaches out and rubs your shoulder, “Until you’re not. That’s what motivates me.”

“How do we get a head of them?” You sniffle, “I just-“

“I’m putting out a mandatory order for protective custody. More units patrolling. I’ll put an officer at each door if I have to.” The chief sighs, “Well get these assholes, y/n. I promise.”

You nod, “Do you need me to write a report?”

He nods, “I’ll need everything you saw, heard, felt. You know the drill.”

You nod, “Am I clear to go back to the station?”

“Oh my god, y/n. What happened?” Cody runs up, “Are you hurt?” His hands wipe over the blood on your clothes and you shake your head, “Not mine.”

He pulls you in, kissing the top of your head, and you just sob.

You hated Jake, but at the same time, a sick part of you missed him.

That was a deadly combination.

You pull yourself together and lean away, “Can you take me to the station?”

Cody nods, “Of course. Come on.”

You make your way to his car and the whole ride there you refused to talk. You were afraid you’d say the wrong thing.

He assured you multiple times that nothing was your fault, but in reality, it was.

You get out, not waiting for him and walk into the station. You brushes people off, saying it wasn’t your blood, something happened.

You walk into the one conference room and close the door.

As you’re writing your report, images of Jake just smirking at you flash and you squeeze your eyes shut. Hoping and praying that he can just let his grip on you go, even if it’s just a little bit.

But you didn’t see that happening. Not until one of you is dead.

——

As you and Ben pull up to your house, you look over at him, “You don’t have to babysit me your whole life.”

“Who said I was doing that?” He parks the car and leans back, “I’m just looking out for my sister.”

You nod and Ben sighs, “Are you trying to tell me that you want to be left alone for tonight?” He chuckles, “I’m not going to be bad at you for needing space, not after..” he shakes his head and looks back at you, “I’ll stay at Nat’s place tonight. No big deal.”

You nod, “Thanks for being so understanding.”

He shrugs, giving you a smile before getting out of the car, “I’ll just get a bag quick and then I’ll go.”

You nod, walking up to your door, “No rush. I’m going to get a shower.” You walk into the bathroom and stand at the mirror.

You stare in the mirror, unable to recognize what you’re becoming.

Tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head, walking over to turn the shower on. The room fills with steam as the water grows hotter, and you discard your clothes before getting in.

You rest your shoulder and head against the wall as the water washes over you.

This is when you wished the shower would, quite literally, wash the day away. You wanted to forget. Not have the image of walking into the room in your memory.

Hearing the screams. The gunshots. Everything.

After washing up and turning the water off, a familiar voice causes you to freeze.

“How was your day, sweetheart?”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you pull the curtain back slightly and reach out for your towel, ignoring Jake.

“It’s like that now?” He scoffs, “I didn’t mean to-“

“Is my brother gone?” You ask as you wrap the towel around your body before moving the curtain.

“Would I be here if he was?” Jake tilts his head, “Stupid question, I don’t need a stupid answer.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the door knob but Jake’s hand grabs your wrist, “I’m sorry.” You continue to ignore him, eyes staying glued to the knob.

“Y/n.” He reaches up to grab your chin and you wince at his touch, “Don’t.”

“A few days ago you were practically begging me to touch you. What happened?” Jake drops his hand to his thigh and you snap your head towards him, “What happened?” You scoff, “What happened is today. What you did. To me, today.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He rests his head back against the mirror, “I didn’t know you were going to go door to door, baby. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Or, should I say.. right time for you and your little cop buddies.” He smirks at his own words, his eyes moving down to look at you.

“Just..” you sigh, “Just leave me alone.”

You open the door and Jake follows you to your room, “You know I can’t do that, baby.”

“Stop. Calling. Me. That.” You walk over to your dresser, pulling out clean clothes, “And get out or at least turn around so I can change.”

He chuckles and shakes his head as he turns around, “What are the next steps?”

You ignore him until you dress, “With what?”

“You know what.” He turns back around and leans against the wall.

You walk past him, out to your kitchen and he follows, “C’mon. Don’t ignore me. Shit drives me crazy.”

You stand at the counter, hands laying on the edge and you think for a moment.

Jake walks up behind you and presses his chest to your back, “Tell me what the next move is, baby. I’ll leave after that.”

His hands slowly find their way to your hips and you sigh, “I’m pulling out of the investigation.”

His hands grip your hips and he spins you around, “What.” His tone is harsh, “Y/n. You do realize there is a shit ton of shit on the line, right? Like you do understand that, don’t you?”

Your voice is barely audible, breaking as you try not to cry, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jake forces your chin up with his fingers, “Listen to me, and listen fucking good.” He stares into your eyes and you can’t help but stare back, mostly out of fear.

“You pull out of this investigation. I’ll kill your brother myself. I’ll make sure it’s slow and painful. Am I clear?”

Your heart was racing, “Don’t. Don’t bring my brother into this.”

Jake chuckles, “You already did.” He lets go of your chin and sighs, “See ya around, baby. Probably tomorrow. Who knows.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Thanks for reading. I love you all. See you in the next part 😉

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 13: BreathPlay with Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1749 Warnings: Choking/Breathplay, Threats, Cannon typical violence, Dirty talk, Pet names, P in V sex, Ghoul sex, Teasing, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Slightly Soft!Cooper.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

“Goddamn it, Cooper! You couldn’t play nice for one fucking day?!” You screamed over the sounds of screaming and gunshots.

 “Why I gotta play nice? They were the ones bringing up old shit!” He countered before firing a round at a bandit hiding across from you both.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I wanna get paid without taking a shot to the ass for once?!” You peeked around your cover and fired at a woman who was heading for the mounted gun on top of their perimeter wall, sending her sprawling.

As you returned to cover you were met with Cooper less than a foot from you, his gloved hand suddenly around your throat to silence you. “Quit bitchin or I’ll give you somethin’ to bitch about.”

He growled the words, but the threat was lost on you as your world went slow motion and your pulse raced for a whole new reason.

You watched as his eyes narrowed at you for a moment, flickering down to your parted lips as your breaths picked up.

Then, with a light squeeze, he smirked and let go, returning to the carnage he wrought like nothing had just happened, leaving you to find your wits and return to the fight.

These were thoughts and feelings for later.

And you maintained that for the rest of the day, then the proverbial “later” came in the form of taking shelter for the night in a ramshackle husk of a house.

You watched as he built the fire for the night wordlessly, flicking his knife against the flint till the sparks caught and filled the space with heat, then sat back on the other side of the fire from you.

He leaned his head forward and closed his eyes like he was going to sleep, not sparing you a single glance, but the faint smirk on his lips told you he knew exactly what you were avoiding thinking about right now as you stared at his hands, still hidden by his ragged brown gloves.

Your brain supplied you with the memory of the heat you could feel through the material, and wondered if he could feel your pulse racing.

Then you wondered if he would do anything about it if you said something.

So focused on his hands were you that you didn’t notice two things.

First, that you had been fidgeting in place this whole time, thighs clenched and hands running up and down the tops of them as your breaths turned deep, causing your chest to heave slowly with every inhale.

And second, that his eyes were no longer closed, simply half lidden and watching you, waiting.

Cooper isn’t blind. He knew you’d been pinning after him pretty much since you started traveling together. At first, he found it entertaining, then later he found it annoying. Now he finds himself wanting to act on it for both your sakes.

Maybe if he fucks you, it’ll sate whatever curiosity you seem to have and you can move on and find someone worthy of what you can give.

“You gonna say somethin’ or keep starin’?” He asked finally, tired of your pretty eyes burning holes in the back of his hands.

“Huh?” Your gaze snapped up to meet his and he watched in the flickering firelight as you flushed. “I don’t have anything to say…” You lied, tearing your eyes away to look down at your own hands, picking at the dirt under your nails.

“Really? So, I didn’t see you get all hot and bothered when I wrapped my hand around that pretty neck today?” He taunted unabashedly, smirk widening as he watched you flounder for a moment.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish before you swallowed thickly and shook your head. “Nope. Not at all. You surprised me, that’s it.” You answered before a wide shadow was cast over you.

Looking up, you saw him towering over you, when had he gotten up?

“Lie again.” He said lowly, sounding a little annoyed with you, but something about it sent a shiver down your back in a good way.

When you didn’t say anything else he knelt in front of you, watching you like a predator stalking prey, tilting his head as he examined you carefully.

“I knew you had a little bit of a freak in ya, have to if you wanna see this mug every day.” His voice was a raspy purr.

You were shaking, but not from fear or the cold. You were shaking from the strain it was taking not to grab him by the collar and press your lips to his.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to insist but it was cut off at the very end as his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat just like before.

“Then why’s your heart racin’, Sweetheart?”

Your lip quivered as you tried to find the way to chicken out, but then the little voice in your head asked why you would do a dumb thing like that when he was handing it to you on a silver platter?

“Because I’m waiting for you to squeeze a little tighter.” The words felt so far beyond bold to you, and it seemed to strike Cooper as his brows shot up and his grin widened.

“Oh, yeah? This ain’t enough for you?” He asked before his grip flexed, pressing where your pulse points raged and you felt a wave in your head, like dizziness half formed.

It pulled a soft gasp from between your lips.

“I’m a lot of things, Sweetheart, but I’m gonna need to hear you say what you want first…” He said, forcing you to meet his eyes to drive home how serious he was being.

It took a few seconds to get your tongue unstuck. “I want you.”

That was all he needed before he was dragging you onto your back and straddling your hips, pinning you down with his whole body. “You sure about that, Darlin’?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it again?” You countered with a huff.

“Maybe I want ya to beg.” He teased.

“I’m not going to beg for something I don’t know is worth it.” The words felt sharper than they were, you were too busy forming a puddle under him.

Rather than respond he leaned down and hovered like he was going to kiss you before diverting to your neck at the last second, attaching his lips to your soft flesh and sinking his teeth in every so often.

The sound you let out was high and airy, and it took effort to keep them in lest you attract any number of things lurking out in the darkness.

He let out a pleased hum as his hand returned to your neck, resting just along the curve of your jaw to turn your head how he wanted, giving him better access to more unmarked skin.

His free hand roamed up and down your body, gripping your hip, squeezing your side, cupping your breast before seeking out your nipple through the fabric to give it a mean pinch.

Your hips bucked up into his as your hands gripped his duster, unable to let go lest you be cast adrift.

“Coop…” You moaned quietly, too wound up after the day you’d had and unable, and unwilling, to wait even a second more.

“I gotcha, Darlin’…” He rumbled as he sat back and helped you shove your pants and panties down to your knees before he was using his teeth to yank his glove off.

Before you could ask what he was doing there was a hand, rough with callouses and scars, between your thighs.

His fingertips ran through your drenched folds, gathering your moisture before bringing them up to circle your clit.

Your thighs tried to snap closed around his wrist, but his other hand held them open. “Now, now. None of that…” He purred, grinning like the cat that got the canary.

You whined as he continued his ministrations before, sending little shocks of pleasure tingling through your body. “Coop, please…” You begged softly, trying to roll your hips into his touch but he wasn’t letting that happen.

He pulled his hand away before flipping you onto your belly, tugging you up onto your hands and knees. “Last chance, Sweetheart.” He said and you heard the sound of his belt being undone and the zipper of his pants rasping.

“Ask me that one more fucking time, and I’m putting my pants back on.” You growled before letting out a gasp as he was suddenly behind you, pushing his thick cock into you.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” He groaned as he rolled his hips, pushing in bit by bit till he was seated all the way, pressing his chest to your back, one hand holding your hip while the other curled up under one of your arms to cross your chest, hand returning to your neck.

You were shaking under him, feeling so full but it wasn’t enough, you needed him to move.

And it seemed he wasn’t interested in waiting anymore either as the rocking of his hips ramped up into proper thrusts, skin slapping skin with every movement.

One of your hands shot up to cover your mouth as you fought to keep from screaming in ecstasy, he felt too damn good, rubbing up against your G-spot on every thrust, the way your thighs were forced together by your pants around your knees meant that there was a consistent pressure on your clit.

But what really had you riding that edge right away, was his grip on your neck, pressing on your pulse points harder than before, giving you a proper floating lightheaded feeling rather than that little taste of dizziness, which served to heighten every sensation deliciously.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower tummy fast, but the words to warn Cooper were lodged in your throat by the desperate sounds he was also eliciting from you.

So, it took both of you by surprise when you came spasming around his cock and yanking him right along behind you, filling you with hot spurts of his cum while your body gripped him like a vice.

He kept going till he was sure both of you had ridden it out, then he was pulling out of you with a teasing caress to your neck.

“Can’t deny being a little freak anymore, Sweetheart.”

[corazondebeskar-reads]

all I did was what I had to - part two

all I did was what I had to miniseries

part two: this world is not made for you

series masterlist | part one | part two | part three

dark!raider/hunter!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a near-death experience, you thank Joel on your knees in an abandoned Burger King. (This takes place before parts one and three but is best read in this order.)

Warnings: dark, dub-con, dark!Joel Miller, raider/hunter!Joel Miller, muddled themes of captivity, attempted sexual assault (not by Joel), canon-typical violence, dead dove do not eat, watersports, piss drinking, oral (m receiving), d/s dynamics if you squint, humiliation, punishment

Inspired by this prompt list from @absurdthirst. I did not come up with raider/hunter!Joel or dark!Joel and many great writers have built in this sandbox before me

also on ao3

“What's got you all riled up, huh?” Joel asks as you’re drying your face off on the back of his shirt. He had done the same with yours, given that it was essentially the only unsoiled spot on either of your outfits.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah? You haven’t kept your eyes off me all afternoon. What would I find if I checked your panties?”

“M’not wearing any.”

He should know, he provides all of your clothes.

Joel laughs, turning around and grabbing you by the bicep. “That’s right.”

He pushes you down, but you go willingly. He wasn’t wrong. You’d been buzzing with unspent adrenaline, the image of him haunting you. The blood on his shirt and arms is still wet from when you encountered the first man at the edge of the woods. Joel, with wild curls and wilder eyes, had crept up behind him, wrapped an arm around his chest, and slit his throat.

From your knees on the muddy, chipped tile, you can see blood splatter under his chin, barely visible in his beard. It probably shouldn't be making you wetter.

The men's bathroom of an abandoned Burger King is as gross as it sounds, but the windows of the restaurant were busted out, and you needed a place to breathe after the fight.

Well, he needed a place to breathe after the fight. You needed a place to breathe after, well. After.

He looked down at you and shook his head. “Bein’ good now ain’t gonna save ya from being in trouble.”

Damn. You knew he was still mad.

When he had finished carving up the fourth and last hunter, still in the throes of bloodlust, he had rounded on you.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you out here. I told you it wasn’t fuckin’ safe.” He shook the blade at you like a teacher waggling a finger at a pupil.

“I’m sorry,” you had whispered. But you weren’t as meek as you should be, not as cowed. Because he had killed them all for you. “Maybe if I could—”

He stalked up, grabbing your (his) shirt in one fist, the bloody knife still clutched in the other. “If you could what, huh? If you could pay attention to your fucking surroundings? If you could stop wanderin’ off?”

“I wasn’t wandering! I was just trying to give you a little privacy; I only went around the corner.” You tried to look at him, but all you could see was the knife. And the blood on his forearm by your face.

He shook his head. “I told you to stay close. You wanted to go out so bad. Ain’t any bathrooms outside, sweetheart. What did you fuckin’ expect?”

“If I could just have a-a knife or a—”

“Shut up. You know you ain’t gettin’ a gun or a knife. Jesus.”

“You could teach me, I could do it.”

“I said shut up.” He shakes you by the fist in your shirt, and you purse your lips shut, eyes infuriatingly wet.

He let go, letting you stumble back. “Good girl. Now let’s get going.”

Neither of you spoke until you reached the Burger King.

Now, you wait patiently for his cock, with your mouth open, tongue out, just like he liked, hands clasped behind your back. “M’not trying to get out of trouble.”

“Oh yeah? Just need my dick in your throat?”

You nod.

He grabs your head and starts to unbuckle his belt, and you can’t help it; you jerk and scramble backward, catching yourself on your hands.

He’s so surprised that he lets go. You’ve never once tried to pull away, never refused him anything. Sure, you’ve hesitated for a moment, or flinched, but he’s not a monster, he didn't count those against you.

He puts his hands up, belt hanging loose, but you don’t see. You’re tensing every muscle, eyelids squeezed tight.

“Hey,” he says.

You startle and look up at him, and start to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise, I’ll be good.”

He finds he likes your tears a lot less when he hasn't caused them. He crouches down in front of you. The blood dried in your hair and soaking your shirt is enough of a reminder of what must have happened right before he found you. “Shit, sweetheart, I didn’t think about it. C’mere.” He pulls you in, and you let him wrap his arms around you while you cry.

Later, you’ll look back on moments like that and what comes after, and wonder why you don’t care more. Why it’s okay when it’s Joel. Why it didn’t even occur to you to try to take his gun when it’s just the two of you out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, with no one around to avenge him.

It’s not a hard question to answer, but it’s a hard answer to admit.

When you’ve calmed a little, he stands back up. He’s scowling, brow furrowed. It’s not a good omen, but there’s nothing to do but settle back onto your knees and wait.

He shakes his head. “I think we gotta do it, sweetheart. Gotta erase it from your mind. Should only be me you think about when you’re down there.”

It’s not a surprise, really. You had known, when he found you at the hunter’s mercy, that you’d pay for it somehow. For getting yourself in that situation after everything he does to protect you.

So, even though a few more tears slip free, you open your mouth, tongue out, and wait.

“Knew you were still my good girl,” he says, and grabs you. He gets his cock out and holds you there, two inches from the thick, drooling tip.

It's hard not to fight, at first. You have to take tattered breaths through your open mouth. But it helps, somehow, that he doesn't take his eyes off you.

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the longer you kneel here, forced to relive this morning, that you feel better. You’re not scared. It’s Joel. And he didn’t let that man hurt you, wouldn’t let him keep hurting you in your mind.

After a few more minutes, your traitorous brain sees nothing more than his hand around his cock and how the same hand had been wrapped around the knife, had slit the hunter's throat. You’re desperate for it. You beg, and he grins.

“See? Nice ‘n easy. Alright, go ahead.” He lets go completely. For now, at least. He usually likes to fuck your face to finish, no matter how it starts.

You swallow him down, pushing until you choke and struggling to stay there. You give him your gratitude the best way you know how, the way he’s trained you to. You only pull off for a moment to ask permission to use your hands, which he grants you.

You wrap one around his thigh for leverage, pulling yourself closer and holding tight. You roll his balls with the other, squeezing gently and caressing. It’s wet and noisy, but you’ve long since shed any embarrassment about sucking him off.

He was mean, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t humiliate you about the things he wanted you to do with fervor. And he liked you begging and desperate for his cock.

He only holds you down at the end, when he cums down your throat. When he lets go, he steps back and looks at you.

“If somethin’ like that ever happens again, if anyone else tries to touch you, you bite ‘em.” He wipes spilled cum from the corner of your lip with his thumb and pushes it inside your mouth. “You bite their fuckin’ prick off if you can. They’ll make enough noise that I’ll be able to find you.”

He withdraws his thumb, and his face turns to stone. “Not that it’ll happen, ‘cause you’re never leaving the goddamn house again.”

Your face falls, but you nod.

“Speaking of which, sweetheart. You have somethin' to make up to me still. Now, I don’t want to punish you. You’ve had a hard day.”

The pause is bait, but you don’t fall for it. You don’t whine or thank him, not yet. The glint in his eye tells you he’s not really sparing you.

“I think, instead, you need to learn a lesson.”

There it is. Lessons and punishments weren’t very distinguishable—to you, at least, since they usually ended up with you crying.

“What lesson do you think you need to learn, sweetheart?”

“I shouldn’t wander off.” You keep your voice quiet, head lowered, and hold still. If he thinks you’re already halfway there, he might go easy on you.

Or not.

“And why’d you wander off?”

“Because I—you were—”

“Spit it out, sweetheart.”

“Because you were, y’know, using the bathroom.”

“You mean takin’ a piss out in the open.”

“Yeah.”

“You scared of seeing a little piss? ‘Cause I know ya ain’t scared of my dick.”

“It’s private, I just—”

“No such thing with you and me, honey. You kissed that goodbye a long time ago. You’re just spoiled at home.”

Oh no. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault, sweetheart. I spoiled ya. We’re just gonna have to get you used to it.”

You can tell when he decides what to do. His lips curl at the corner, and he strokes your cheek, so you know you’re in for it.

“Tell ya what. We can do it right now. Seems like the perfect place.”

You can’t say you’d ever have called a Burger King bathroom the perfect place for anything, even peeing. But he seems very pleased with the irony.

“Where do you want it, sweetheart? In your cunt?” He’s watching you too intently. “On your tits? In your mouth?”

You try to stop it, but you press your lips together sharply, stomach clenching.

“Bingo. You got it, sweetheart.”

You think about begging, but nauseatingly, it’s the best of the choices he gave you. The other two would leave you soaked all the way home.

He taps your lips. “Open up.”

You take a deep breath and force yourself to obey. Your muscles fight you, some part of you still sane enough to scream out against his treatment, but you win in the end.

Or, at least, Joel wins.

You look up at him. He’s full-out smirking now, not bothering to hide his excitement. You wonder if he’s actually turned on by pissing in you or if it’s just the power and humiliation.

Your bet’s on the second, otherwise, he’d have done it by now.

You know you're right when the next order comes.

“Touch your clit.”

“What?”

“Don’t talk back. Do as you’re fuckin’ told. I want you to rub your little clit while you drink my piss.”

You choke back a small sob and slide your hand down your sweatpants. Nausea swirls, and you start to breathe rapid and shallow.

He cups your cheek in his broad, rough palm, pleased when you obey. He pulls his cock back out and sets the tip on your extended tongue, leaving it there for a moment to watch your eyes widen, and your muscles tremble with the effort of holding still.

You’re still working at your clit, fingers rubbing hard as you try to concentrate on the pleasure. He rewards you by pushing his cock further into your mouth before he fills it, saving you the effort of struggling to swallow and sparing you from the strongest of the taste.

When he pulls back out, you sob freely. He crouches down and removes your hand from your cunt to replace it with his own. You’re wet enough that he dips three fingers right into you and grinds the heel of his hand against your clit.

“I got you, sweetheart. It’s okay. You did good. Go ahead and cum.”

And you do. You deny Joel nothing. And when you’re pleasantly dizzy after three orgasms, he pulls his hand out and sucks your juices off his fingers, groaning.

He stands up before reaching a hand to you to pull you up.

“Alright, let’s get goin’ home. I ain’t fuckin’ you on the floor here.”

We didn’t even find any books, you sulk in the privacy of your brain.

Except Joel was right. You have no privacy. When he glances at you, he knows. “Whatever you’re thinkin’, I suggest ya stop thinkin’ it real quick.”

The next time he returns from a raid, he tosses you a beat-up copy of “The Hobbit.”

*title from "Run Boy Run" by Woodkid, which I listened to on repeat while writing this, if you're looking for an authentic experience lol

[bvckleyydiaz]

a little preview of what’s to come 🫣

“Well,” you hear Derek’s voice call out before you’ve even entered the conference room, “Look at who finally decided to grace us with their presence. Not like you to be late, Y/N.” Your friend grins at you boyishly from his chair. You’re going to miss seeing it every day. Don’t give in, don’t show any resistance. It’s the only thing that will save you now.

You offer as much of a smile as you can. “Guess there’s a first time for everything, Der,” you murmur, trying and failing to sigh away the prick of tears behind your eyes. Your gaze travels to a spot on the far back wall, just between Spencer’s and Emily’s shoulders. You can’t let yourself look them in the eye. If you do that, this will have been for nothing. “I...” You try to swallow the growing lump in your throat, “I want all of you to know that I love you with everything I have left in me, and... that’s what makes this so fucking unfair.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice, tears already seeping through and breaking down the walls you’ve built. “I didn’t want to do this, but I see no other choice.” You unclip your badge and place it and your gun on the table. You then take the manila folder out of the bag hanging heavily on your shoulder and slide it across the table in front of Aaron.

The sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears muffles all other sounds around you, and you fear that you’ll break your hand if you clasp them together any tighter. It’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. Aaron’s voice brings you back, the folder opened and his eyes stormy. “What is this?” The sound of his voice makes you shudder. You’ve known your boss long enough to know that if he raises his voice any louder, all the restraint he has will be out the window.

“My resignation,” you tell him and watch his left eye twitch, “Effective immediately.”

Five bodies stand all at once, spines ramrod straight. Rage, desperation, bewilderment, and a few other emotions that you can’t quite decipher mix into a cocktail of misery on their faces.

“You’re leaving?” Derek demands, his tone harsh. “Just like that, no second thought?”

“I said that I didn’t want to do this, that I had no other choice, and I meant it,” you stress. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life hating myself for what I’m giving up. But... I don’t see any other way out.”

“Can you at least tell us why?” Penelope asks, and you feel the knife in your chest twist. You never wanted it to end like this; hell, you didn’t want it to end at all. You remember the text you got earlier this morning, right before you walked into the building. You’ve made your choices. Now, live with them.

“Somehow, confidential information from one of our cases—one of my files—was leaked,” you lie. “The Brass wants someone to blame. And they’re going to blame me because my name was attached to that file.”

“Do you have any idea who could’ve gotten ahold of that intel?” Emily asks. You shake your head.

You knew exactly who it was.

“Why wasn’t I told about the leak?” Aaron asks, his Hotch voice making an appearance. “That’s something I should’ve known.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you tell him, and you are sorry. Just not for the reason he thinks. “Strauss said that the director wanted it handled quietly. This was the fastest way to do that.”

“So, some asshole is going after one of our own, and we’re just supposed to do what?” Rossi asks, his shoulders tight. “Sit with our thumbs in our asses until he’s brought in?”

“Dave’s right,” Aaron agrees. “Y/N, you’re not going anywhere, I won’t let you. I’m going to talk to Erin.” He takes a step forward, but you place a hand on his chest to block his path.

You feel his heartbeat under the tips of your fingers. It’s quick. He’s angry. “Sir, don’t. Please. I’ve already caused enough trouble. I need to just... take it with grace, I guess.” You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it does nothing to ease him. “Thank you for trying to fight for me.”

With that, you take your hand off his chest and walk out of the room without another word. Your palm still tingles from where it laid on Aaron’s chest.

[kittycatlukey]

“I Love You.” — L.K.

Tagging @alespov ✨

Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader

Part 1/1

Warning: mild language, violence, usage of weapons, death, angst, and some RE4 spoilers!

You and Leon were good friends. Replace good with best. You two confided in each other, protected one another, and were in love but it was left unspoken. But it was obviously felt. There was a pull between you that couldn’t be denied. And anyone with a pair of eyes could see you and Leon cared for each other. You would die if it meant keeping the other alive. That’s what love is supposed to be, right?

“I’ve been waiting for you, rookie.” Krauser flipped his knife in the air and caught it. “Oh, worried about the girl, is that it? Hmm, that’s just like you. You always had poor judgment. You’d better be worried about the one beside you too.” He chuckled, taunting Leon. “But if you think I’m going to let both of you out of here alive… you’re even more naive than I thought. You can’t save them. You can’t save anyone!”

Your heart was pounding against your chest as you stood beside Leon.

“Give it up, Krauser!” Leon yelled at him. “Being a lackey for these maniacs… won’t bring your men back. And what the hell for? Revenge on the government? You think they would want that?”

“Revenge? You think I’m doing all this… for revenge?” Krauser asked Leon, looking down at him.

“Isn’t that what this is all about?” Leon questioned.

“You see, in that jungle, I had a revelation. The most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power! Los Iluminados have given me that.” Krauser stated.

Leon responded in retaliation, “You know, you were always an asshole. But at least you had some kind of code, some honor! And look at you now.”

“Enough reminiscing. Move out and draw fire, soldier.” Krauser did a backflip and drew on Leon with his assault rifle.

And for some reason, time didn’t slow, it felt as if time quickened. As soon as I seen Krauser had his gun aimed at Leon, I moved in front of him. I had moved just at the right time.

And I had been shot, taking not one but three bullets for Leon. One hit my left shin, another hit my left thigh, and the last one hit the right side of my stomach.

In that moment, I felt my entire body go numb. I couldn’t feel anything as Leon dragged me behind cover. He then ripped parts of his t-shirt off in an attempt to stop my bleeding, but we both knew it would be futile.

“Y/N, why would you do that?! Taking bullets for me?! Are you crazy?!” Leon had shouted, tears evident in his now reddened eyes.

“I would never let you die, Leon.” I murmured, feeling light headed already. “Get up and kill that sick son of a bitch. I’ll be fine for now.”

Leon nodded, the color had already left his face.

“And hey.” I grabbed his hand, staring into his ocean blue eyes. “I love you, Leon.”

“Y/N… I love you.” Leon spoke, his voice wavering. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, he had went to fight Krauser. The last thing I heard before I passed out was Krauser’s voice.

“Better run, rookie!”

~~~~

My body was shaken until my eyes opened. My eyes fluttered openly slowly; they felt so heavy. At first, my vision was blurry. My eyes took a long time to focus but once they did, I noticed Leon was the one above me.

“You have to stay alive. Please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded before his bloody, calloused hands released my shoulders and cradled my face.

I wasn’t sure if the blood on his hands were mine, his, or Krauser’s. Maybe even a combination of the three.

“Goddamnit, stay awake!” His loud voice forced my eyes open again that I didn’t realize I had closed again.

“L-Leon. I don’t know how much longer I can stay… Just know… that I’ve loved y-you for a long, long time.” I told him weakly. “I’d do anything for you.”

Leon had tears rolling down his face. “I know. And I’d do anything for you… I’ve loved you for a long, long time too.”

I smiled when he said that. Even though I was dying from blood loss, I was the happiest I’d ever been knowing he felt the same way about me, and that he was getting to live. I didn’t care if it costed my life. I had nothing left to lose.

“You killed Krauser?”

He nodded.

“Good. I knew you could.” I replied before closing my eyes again. At this point the numbness had worn off and I could feel each bullet where they were lodged inside me. It felt like my whole body was on fire. “G-Go save Ashley. P-Please.” I spoke but it was barely a whisper. I don’t even know if it was even audible.

“No, no. Please stay with me, Y/N.” Leon pleaded once again, caressing my face. “I love you.”

It hurt me that he sounded so helpless and sad.

“Don’t die on me!” Leon shouted trying to wake me up again.

And this time, I had no choice but to let go…

~~~~

This was a sad one… Sorry about my writing being rusty. I haven’t written anything in about six months. Hope you all liked it though! Love you all! 🫶

If anyone is wondering, college is going great! It’s hard and stressful, but so fun. Just turned 20, and I start clinicals in May. I made the President’s List (4.0 GPA with at least 12 credit hours) each semester I’ve been going. I have some good friends, and have been staying very busy with homework and studying. I have a very important exam that I’ll have to start studying for so send me some positive vibes! They’re very much appreciated. Then my boards will be coming up. But it’ll all be worth it in the end! I graduate this year: December 2024! So excited about that! 🤍🩺🫀

[moths-are-better]

one time I stockpiled a whole bunch of incorrect quotes and I think I should finally post them

Eva: Why are you on fire?  Dally: This is just how my day is going.

Eva: We have to plan, we have to figure something out.  Yugo: Eva, when have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose.

Eva: How the hell are you still alive?  Ruel: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Adamai : Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

Adamai : What goes up but never comes down?  Eva: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

Yugo, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Yugo: Is that a gun?!  Amalia : It's not what it looks like!  Yugo: It looks like a gun!  Amalia : Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore.  Yugo: ...ANYMORE?!

Adamai , singing: He's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's on thin fucking ice  Amalia , also singing: Santa Claus is calling you out!

Adamai : Can I borrow five dollars?  Yugo: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back?  Adamai : Of course.  Adamai : Not directly, but with my love and affection.  Yugo: So that’s a no.

Adamai : STOP!  *Everyone stops*  Adamai : wAiT a MiNuTe-

Cop: What are your names?  Yugo: Don't tell them, Amalia .  Cop, writing: Amalia ...  Yugo: Crap.  Amalia : Nice going, Yugo.  Cop: Amalia : Uh oh.

Adamai : That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!  Yugo: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!  Adamai : Adamai : What?  Yugo: I need to feed my Neopets!

Ruel: You know, I used to play back in my gory days.  Dally: You mean glory days?  Ruel: Ah, that too.

Yugo: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY] Amaila: What's that? Yugo: Remorse code. Amaila: I'm even angrier now.

Yugo: Amaila and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-  Amaila: Sentences.  Yugo: Don't interrupt me.

Yugo: What’s up guys? I’m back. Amaila: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Yugo: Death is a social construct.

Amalia : You're violent.  Yugo: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Yugo: Amalia and I are no longer dating.  Amalia : Yugo, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Yugo: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Amaila: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

Yugo: How petty can you get? Amaila: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Chibi: You need a hobby.  Yugo: I have a hobby!  Chibi: Hitting Quilby isn't a hobby.

Eva: Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Dally and I are dating.  Dally, Adamai, Amalia , and Yugo: *gasp*  Eva: Dally, why are you surprised?!

Amalia : Dally! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.  Dally: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

Amalia : Dally, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-  Dally: Aww, thanks-  Amalia : But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.

*Dally is fighting a monster*  Adamai: Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!  Dally: The power to believe in myself!?  Adamai: No, a knife! Stab it!

I have more so I’ll post them eventually

[even-disco-baby]

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You’re pretty good with that boy, Cuno.” She says it thoughtfully, as though she’s turning this fact over in her mind as she works at the tangled net in her lap. The sea is a soft roar over the horizon, and the world is tinged a dusky blue.

“Really? It doesn’t feel like I am. He still calls me anything but my name. Usually a slur.”

“It’s tough love, Lilienne, that’s all. A kid like that needs discipline.”

“He’s not that hard to deal with. He just wants somebody to play along with him. That’s all any kid wants.”

“He was good to me first.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She arches an eyebrow. “Really now…”

DRAMA — She isn’t doubtful, sire. Just surprised.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Well, I hope you’ll keep on being good to each other, then. The kid certainly needs it.”

EMPATHY — And so do you, she thinks.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You seem good with the young people around here in general,” she muses. “Cuno, those kids at the church, Lily and the boys… You said you used to be a teacher, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A familiar ache squeezes your lungs. The same ache that drove you to become a teacher in the first place. An incalculable and long forgotten loss.

INLAND EMPIRE — Don’t follow this thread any further. Let it unravel.

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“No, there’s something else… Lost children, a lost Indotribe…” [Follow the thread.]

“I think I wanted to be a father, once.” [Change the subject.]

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She pauses her work, strands of the net wrapped loosely around her fingers, but does not look up. “…Oh?”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Hey, it’s never too late! Now’s your chance to give fatherhood a shot!

“Any chance *we* could make it happen?” [Give her the finger guns.]

“I wonder why I did…”

“It was a stupid thing to want.”

“I still do.”

“I guess it never worked out.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Hm…” She goes back to her work, slowly and carefully. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Can’t remember.”

“In *this* economy?”

“Things never lined up right, I guess.”

“I bet it was *her* fault. She ruined my chances forever.��

“Too poor and drunk and sad.”

“I’d never want to inflict myself on a child.”

“Just look at me.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She does look at you. There is no pity or disgust or whatever other terrible thing you expected in her gaze. Just a quiet acknowledgment.

EMPATHY — To her, you look just like a father she once knew. This only makes her more inclined to agree with you.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “…When I first got pregnant with the boys,” she says quietly, returning to her work, “I was uneasy. Wondered if it was… right to bring them into this world. Into *our* arms…”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A rare pang wracks her. She does not like to think about these things.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I never did decide one way or another. I just knew what I wanted, and so I went ahead with it. *We* went ahead with it. And then again with Lily, even though…”

EMPATHY — Even though at heart she knew, by then, how it would all end.

SHIVERS — Five years ago, a man stands on the boardwalk where the corpse of a different drunken husband will one day be discovered. Bottle still clutched tightly in his hand, he fights the urge to throw himself into the dark water. He wins the battle today, but he will ultimately lose the war.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “However things turned out for you, I’m sure you had your reasons.” She sighs, and cuts a strand of the net with the tip of her knife, then ties it back together. “Though that probably sounds shallow, coming from me.”

“A little, yeah.”

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Go ahead.”

“Do you regret having kids?”

“Uh… never mind.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She smiles, and there’s an uncharacteristic sadness in the lines around her eyes.

“No,” she says softly. “Never once.”

EMPATHY — She wonders if this is proof of her own selfishness.

It isn’t the children she regrets. It’s the world that she brought them into.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Now that they’re here, all we can do is love them. And you’ve got plenty of love in you for the children, it seems. That’s more than a lot of fathers could say…” She sighs, her eyes shadowed and sunken. “Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore.”

DRAMA — But you know what *you* would like to say, sire. Go ahead. Now’s your moment!

REACTION SPEED — No, it really isn’t. Please don’t push your luck.

“Lilienne…”

Don’t push your luck.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She turns to you, expression inscrutable with the light of the setting sun behind her. “Yes?”

“Do you think *we* could ever… try again?”

“Do you think you could ever see *me* as… a father?”

“Do you think there’s any hope in this world for any of us?”

“Do you think the children will ever forgive us?”

“Do you think I’m… a good man?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She looks at you, her chin no longer held high, a tired slump in her shoulders and something searching in her eye. Her hands are all tangled in webs of fragile knots.

“I think…” she says slowly, evenly, “you’re looking for something that I can’t give you.”

-1 MORALE

“Okay. Well. Khm. Right.”

“What the hell does *that* mean?”

“That’s not really what I asked…”

Say nothing.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I know what you’re asking,” Lilienne says frankly. “I’m just not so sure that *you* do…”

EMPATHY — For love.

RHETORIC — For vindication.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a lifeline.

VOLITION — For a future.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — Lilienne sighs, watching the twins in the distance, starting the long march home from the beach before dark. “At some point, Harry, you’re going to have to be okay with your life.”

SHIVERS — You have twenty two years left to reach that point.

[lunajay33]

Brother Trouble❤️‍🩹

Summary: You went out looking for formula with Glenn and Maggie and came across Merle, your boyfriends lost brother and things don’t go well

•Masterlist•

Ive been with the group since the start at the quarry, I first was drawn to Daryl but was always nervous to approach him when Merle was around but once he was gone me and Daryl grew to love each other and have been together ever since the incident at the CDC

“Let’s get Judith a toy, it’ll be good for her to play with something!” I said to Glenn as he went into the store

After we picked up what we needed we loaded it into the truck and we’re about to leave but I still had a basket in my hand

“Well hello, what are you all doing out here” I heard, turning to see Merle with a gun held up to us, making Maggie and Glenn to take out theirs and raise them

“Merle, you’re alive” Glenn stated

“Woah Woah Woah, Glenn and y/n good to see y’all, is Daryl still with ya, is he alive?” He asked as he lowered his gun

“He’s still alive”

“Can you take me to him”

“You stay here and we will tell him” Glenn said with his gun still held up

“Come on just take me to where you are”

“No like I said we will bring him here”

I could see the anger rise on Merle’s face and I knew there was trouble, it happens so fast, he pulled out a gun from his pants and shot, I ducked and when I looked up he hand his makeshift arm knife to Maggie’s throat

“Get in the car now or she dies” Merle said pushing his knife harder against Maggie

I dropped the basket and we all got in the truck and we drove off to god knows where

~~~~~~

We were all in esperante rooms, tied to a chair but I could hear everything, I could hear Glenn get beat to a pulp and Maggie crying then it was my turn when merle came in with the governor

“Now who do we have here?” The governor asked but I didn’t say a word, I wasn’t really one to talk much, maybe that’s why Daryl liked being around me but I knew from the pasted that merle hated it

“She not talk or something?” He asked merle

“Oh she talks, she just a freak that never speaks when spoken to” Merle said as he walked behind me and held his knife to my throat like he did Maggie

“Where is my brother huh?” He asked as he lightly slide the knife across my neck enough to draw blood

I still didn’t break, the prison was our home I couldn’t sell that out

“Untie her” the governor said and Merle was quick to cut the ropes and make me stand

“Now take off your clothes” he said and I was stunned

“No”

“Oh she does speak, you will take off all your clothes or your buddies in the next rooms will be dead by night fall” he said glaring into my soul

I felt sick but I couldn’t risk the lives of my family

I took off all my clothes with shaky hands and covered myself with my hands

“Do what you have to go get her to talk, I’ll be back later and you better have an answer” he said the Merle as he left the room

I looked at merle scared for my life

He was smirking and started to cut me all over my body, leaving blood drip all over my body, the pain was unbearable and he started hitting on me like he did to Glenn, after a while of this torture I was left on the floor feeling like a shell of a person

I still didn’t rat out or home and he left, I sat in the corner naked, bloody and bruised

I heard trouble in the room over and Maggie and Glenn crying then I heard Maggie tell them about the prison

I sighed but understood how hard it was for them

“Y/n! Are you okay?” I heard Maggie yell out

“Im fine” i answered back not wanting to stress them any further

I waited in that room for a while just praying Daryl would come and rescue me and make me feel alright again and that’s when I heard guns, and fighting

The door to my room was being kicked in and that when I saw him, my savior and my love

“Daryl” I sighed feeling relieved

He ran up to me with the others at the door

He looked so mad but his eyes showed hurt, sadness and concern

He took off his flannel and wrapped it around me

“Come on peach, we’re gonna get you home” he said as he lifted me up and supported me by holding my waist and helping me walk out

We followed the others and I tried to keep up even though I felt so weak

Bullets were flying and gun shots were all I heard, axel got hit but the rest of us got out

We got to the truck and I instantly passed out on Daryl’s lap knowing I was safe now

~The next day~

I woke up in mine and Daryl’s cell and tried sitting up but groaned at the pain, I looked down and I was all patched up and dressed in Daryl comfy clothes

“Daryl?” I called out and in a second he was next to the bed

“Hey peach, how’re ya feelin?” He asked as he brushed my hair back, just the feeling of him near me makes me feel better, but I still have that ache inside

“I’m fine”

“Don’t lie to me, how I found ya that’s not fine, what happened?”

“I’m not ready yet” I said looking away feeling guilty, I know I’m evil and sick with Merle but he was the only family Daryl had left and I felt so conflicted

“I’m here when yer ready my peach, now come on let’s get some food in ya” he said picking me up and bring me out to the eating area

~Few days Later~

I got up late still trying to deal with what happened and when I walked out to help Beth with Judith I saw Merle talking with the others

I felt my heart drop and I felt sick again but this time I physically got sick just from the thought of being near him

I ran to a near by bin and threw up, I felt a hand rub my back and I knew it was Daryl

“Ya alright?” He asked

“What is he doing here Daryl?” I asked as my voice quivered

“He left that place I couldn’t leave him out there”

“Y’all seem pretty chummy brother” Merle said from across the room

“Well ya they’ve been together for a long time” Beth stated

“This is yer bitch” he asked shocked

“Watch yer mouth” Daryl groaned glaring at him

“If I knew I wouldn’t ‘ave…..” he trailed off

“What? Wouldn’t ‘ave done what?” Daryl asked standing up

“The governor he….he made me do it”

“You’re lying, he left the room you could’ve just left me” I stated

Daryl looked between me and Merle and it clicked

“YOU DID THIS TO HER?” Daryl yelled

“Dumb bitch put up a fight I had to get answers” that’s when Daryl got up close to him completely vivid

I couldn’t stand being in here anymore, I snuck out the cell block and sat out side

I tried to get the memories out of my head but it just kept playing over in my head

“You know the governor did something similar to me when we were there” I heard next to me and it was Maggie

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to forget, I feel so dirty”

“I think you’ll feel better when you get this off your chest and tell Daryl” she says as she gets up and leaves being replaced by Daryl himself

“I wouldn’t have brought him here if I knew, I’m sorry peach, I hate that I wasn’t there earlier to save ya”

“I feel wrong, I feel so dirty and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better again, what they made me do, what they did to me”

“What did he do peach?”

I sighed realizing I need to tell him

“They made me take off all my clothes, they said if I didn’t they’d kill Glenn and Maggie, then….Merle tortured me, cut me up until I was just blood, beat me until he got too tired, humiliated me and all the others saw me like that when you saved me, I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore” I said crying feeling Daryl pull me close

“I’ll never let anything happen to ya again, I’m s’ sorry, I’ll get rid of him immediately”

“You can’t kick out your brother Daryl, I don’t wanna hurt you by doing that” I said

“He ain’t my brother anymore after doing that to you, to my peach, all I care about is how yer feeling and can’t have that when he’s around, plus I’ll try and kill ‘im if I have to be near him knowing he hurt ya”

“I love you so much Daryl, more than anything” I said looking up at him

“Love ya too, yer my world and nothin’ll ever hurt ya again”

~~~~~~

Thanks for reading everyone lmk what you thought and leave suggestions for more walking dead imagines