#gonna give him a bullet belt

[turtletaubwrites]

My Pretty Little Thief

Thank you @wallachianblood for this request! The idea and prompts were so cute, and I had way too much fun with it 😊🔥 I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Ace x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2004

Ao3 Link

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

Summary: Ace knows where he left his hat. But when it's not there, he hunts it down, only to discover the culprit. How can he convince the thief to return his precious hat?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Nipple Play, Cunnilingus, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Wrap it up y'all), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Just a bit of, Rough Sex, Temperature Play, Playful Sex, Teasing, Kind of Mention of Public Sex, (Ace just wants people to hear), Creampie, Maybe tiny Dacryphilia? (you have one tear that he thinks is "cute"), Pet Names, Fluff and Smut

A/N: I adore this man!! This one just feels super sweet and playful to me. Enjoy!

“I swore I hung it up here,” Ace muttered to himself as he scratched his head, holding up a towel around his waist.

He recalled taking off his hat, hanging it on the door, and heading into the showers. 

Narrowing his eyes at the empty hook, he yawned before heading to his quarters. 

I know I didn’t leave it in here…

His room was a bit of a mess, and Ace sucked his teeth at the sight of the clothes on the floor. 

He knew it couldn’t be down there, but he had to check, annoyance building the longer his hat wasn’t in sight. 

Keeping one hand on his towel, Ace got to his knees, leaning down to check under his bed.

“Ahem.”

Ace tensed, flipping around to see his door close, but his eyes were only on you.

You.

“Bam, got ya,” you said, mocking his voice as you pointed finger guns his way. You brought a finger to your lips, blowing imaginary smoke his way.

Ace’s eyes raked over your bare skin, loving the way your breathing hitched when he watched you. All you wore were cowboy boots, a belt around your waist, and… 

“That’s my hat,” Ace teased, just a hint of threat in his words. He sat on the ground, leaning his back against the side of the bed. 

“Are you sure? I think it looks better on me.”

“Oh,” he asked with a laugh, shaking his head at you. “Why don’t you come a little closer, and I’ll take a look?”

You bounced on your toes for a moment, giving him the cutest fucking smile before shaking your head.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust me,” Ace questioned, mock outrage given away by his shit eating grin. “You’re the thief. Guess I’ll have to take it back from you myself.”

He loved the look in your eyes when you watched him stand, leaving the towel on the floor. The way your eyes widened every time his cock sprang loose, as if you could never get enough of him. 

You held your finger guns out to ward him off, but he just grabbed your wrists, leaning down to kiss your fingers.

“Bam,” you breathed, shooting a fake bullet against his lips.

“Oh no, you got me!”

Ace cried out, falling to his knees as you giggled, his warm hands sliding up and down on your thighs. 

“Looks like I’ll have to take you down to get what’s mine.”

Your laughter turned into a gasp as he pushed your back against the door. 

He wrapped one hand into the belt at your waist, holding you firm, then spread your thighs with the other.

“My hat does look pretty good on you from down here, sugar. But I’m still gonna take it from you.”

Your reply was cut short by the press of warm lips against your core, his tongue dipping into your wet folds so fast you felt dizzy. 

You felt him chuckle against your skin as you wobbled, and he gripped your belt harder, forcing your hips where he wanted them. 

“Such a brazen thief, I wonder what kind of punishment you deserve.”

He watched you moan and writhe, pressing yourself up against the door. 

“Who knew criminals could taste this sweet?”

He swirled his tongue around your clit before sucking it between his teeth. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as he shoved his tongue into you as deep as he could go. 

“F-Fuck, Ace…”

“Oh, is my little villain already sorry? Ready to give me what’s mine?”

A cute whimper left your throat, but all you did was shake your head. 

He grinned, then sucked your clit back into his mouth. Then he made his tongue warm, and warmer, and hot, until you yelped, trying to pull away from him. He stopped the heat, but he didn’t let you escape, yanking on that belt while you squirmed. 

“Can’t take the heat…”

Ace teased you, pulling back to kiss your thighs. He looked up at your pretty face, your skin all flushed for him. 

He stood, pressing you against the door, his cock twitching as it traced against your skin. 

“You wanted to be a cowgirl, huh, baby?”

He grabbed your hands again, kissing them while you caught your breath.

Pulling one hand away, you pointed your finger at his heart with another breathy ‘bam.’

Ace let out a surprised, and joyful laugh. You were always so fun, so beautiful, so free. And you always seemed to want him. 

He lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, twisting your fingers into his still damp hair. 

He had planned on taking you to the bed, but when your wet cunt rubbed along his cock, he lost all rational thought, head leaning forward to moan in your ear. 

Your back hit the door again, and you felt the wood groan from the weight. 

“Wait–”

Your eyes rolled back as he rubbed his length along your clit, covering himself in your need for him. 

“Ace…”

His head was buried in your neck, breathing in your scent, and the sound of his name on your lips was everything. 

He lined himself up, holding you against the door. Slowly pushing into your tight, wet pussy, he moaned softly as your body clenched around his with every inch. 

“Ace,” you moaned, this time your voice was high and strained as you fought to stay quiet against the door.

“My pretty little thief,” he rasped in your ear, thrusting so fucking slowly into you. 

There was no better feeling than sinking himself into you, hearing your soft breaths, feeling your frantic heart. 

The aching pressure building in you made you shake, and you were clawing at his back as you tried to stay up, and stay quiet. 

“Please,” you stuttered, moaning again as he tilted his hips up into you. 

“Alright, cowgirl.”

Ace finally took you away from the door, fingers digging into your ass as he slammed you onto him a few times before walking to the bed. 

You had already lost. The hat was about to fall off your head from the way you twitched for him. 

You gasped as he climbed onto the mattress, standing on the edge as he turned. With his back to the bed, your eyes widened at his mischievous smile.

“Wait, Ace, don—“

“Hang on to my hat, gorgeous.”

“No!”

You grabbed his hat at the last second, hand pressing it onto your head as he let himself fall backwards onto the bed.

He laughed as he kept a firm grip on your hips, luckily keeping you in place as you fell.

But even with his effort to keep your body still on his, the slam onto the mattress made you both cry out.

You were reeling from the force of his cock, hitting so deep as you bounced onto the bed.

“Ace!”

You slapped his chest, still panting, trying to breathe.

He couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him at your blown out eyes, your outrage diminished by the desperate way your mouth hung open. 

“Go on then, cowgirl. Take me for a ride.”

You let out what had to be a growl, pressing your hands down on his chest as you tried to fuck yourself onto his thick cock. 

With all that he’d already done to you, your body was limp and shaking. You rolled your hips, running your fingers along the muscles of his stomach, his chest, playing lightly with his nipples until he let out a breathy laugh. 

You gained some leverage, digging your boots into the bed as you started to lift off of him until just the tip of his cock was sunk into you.

Then you dropped down on him, your aching cunt sucking him in, the intense heat of his body filling you up.

“Your cock feels so good, Ace. I need you inside me everyday, baby.”

Needy whimpers left his throat, until your legs turned to jello, and you couldn’t keep up the pace.

“My pretty little cowgirl can’t ride? Do you want me to show you how, darlin’?”

“Mmhm,” you moaned, eyes heavy lidded as you nodded. 

“Ya gonna give me my hat back if I make you scream on my cock, princess?”

“Fuck, please, Ace.”

He thrust up into you abruptly, reaching a hand up to touch your beautiful face. He brushed away a cute little tear as you pressed your face against his warm hand.

“That didn’t sound like a yes. Guess I’d better not make deals with thieves.”

He stopped every movement, your own movement falling limp without his support.

“Wait, yes, please! Please make me come on your cock, I swear I’ll give your hat back.”

He rubbed his thumb over your drooling lips, smiling when you didn’t hesitate to suck it into your mouth. 

“There’s my pretty baby. Hold on tight.”

You gripped his chest again as he dug his heels into the mattress. He held the belt tight on your waist, using it to fuck up into you harder and faster than you were expecting so soon, and you let out a small, but filthy scream.

He kept thrusting as he laughed, so fucking pleased to watch you unravel for him.

“Already screamin’ for me, huh, baby? Looks like I get my hat back now.”

He sat up, pressing your bodies together as he rocked into you on his lap. 

Your faces were so close, breaths mixing as he teased raspy words in your ear.

“You look really good getting fucked in my hat, darlin’. You like getting in trouble, don’t ya?”

All you could could was moan, high and desperate. He could tell you were so close to that edge, and he needed it, needed you.

“You want me, baby?”

His question had you clenching on him harder, and he moaned while you answered.

“I want you so bad, Ace. I want you to fill me up. Fuck, please come inside me, I need you.”

His fingers dug into your thighs, body fighting not to give into your words that very second.

“Give me my hat back,” he said in a growl, watching your body shiver at his demand. With shaky hands, you lifted his hat up, your hair so adorably mussed, then set it on his head while he kept gently pushing into you. 

“Good girl.”

He flipped you onto your back, wasting no time. He pressed your thighs toward your shoulders, hunting for that spot that makes you melt.

You came almost instantly, knuckles shoved between your teeth as you tried, and failed, not to scream. 

Ace didn’t care if anyone heard. He loved that everyone knew how much you wanted him, loved hearing you scream his name.

He would have told you not to hide it now, but the sight of your sweet body, writhing underneath him, was too much. 

“Fuuckk... Coming, princess.”

“Ace!”

He used the belt like a handle again, shoving as deep inside you as he could. 

You milked his cock of every fucking drop, his come filling you, a wave of liquid heat inside you.

You were limp as he pressed slow kisses on your chest and face. Finally, you made little whimpers and squirmed as he pulled out of you. His eyes almost rolled back at the sight of his come spilling out of your messy little cunt.

“How’s my pretty hat thief?”

You hummed, a contented smile on your lips making him want to do this everyday. To make you feel good everyday. 

“I think you killed me,” you laughed, voice weak as you reached your hand up to touch his cheek. 

“I could never kill my little criminal,” he teased, kissing your lips so softly as his eyes melted into yours. 

“I love you too much.”

You pinched his cheek, face flushing as you grinned, the sight of you stopping his breath for a moment. 

“I love you too, Ace.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I would like to take him home and protect him from the world, pretty please??

Tag List: @shewrites02

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

#portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #one piece smut #reader Insert #fem!reader #smut #mine #one piece x reader #fic requests #inbox #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece fanfiction #ace x reader

[osachiyo]

imagine shibari/bondage with dark era!dazai 🫣🤭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — n.sfw content (mdni), fem!reader, dubcon just in case, bondage, gagging, reader is implied to be an enemy/hostage of the mafia, overstimulation, spitting, hair pulling, pet names, degradation, all characters are aged to 18+ etc

“you look so pathetic right now, it’s almost adorable,” dazai huffed out a laugh at your sorry state — red ropes keeping you bound against the headboard of the executive’s king sized bed, a small bullet vibrator taped to your little clit as you writhed in seemingly endless pleasure.

the ball gag in your mouth kept you from cussing the man out — who was now kneeling in-front of you with a devilish smirk on his stupidly handsome face. “gonna speak up now, princess, or what?”

dazai reached a hand down to ghost over your drooling cunt, which had soaked the bedsheets underneath you almost completely. a finger traced your inner lips before dipping in your hole — gathering some of your slick on the slim appendage before popping it in his mouth. your eyes widened at the view he was giving you — you wanted to punch that smirk off of his dumb face so bad.

his hands then reached for the gag, which was tied behind your head. “let’s get this off, yeah?” dazai mumbled before opening it with a ‘click!’

“now, you better speak up befo—“ dazai’s eyes widened when he felt a certain wetness sliding down his cheek — did you just fucking spit on him?

“fuck you,” you growled, a smirk splaying on your own lips at the demon prodigy’s bewildered face. unfortunately for you, it took him only a moment to regain his composure.

a pained yelp escaped your lips when you felt dazai’s bandaged fingers entangle themselves in your roots and yanking you close to him — “what the fuck did you just say?”

the low tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine — you didn’t know if it was from fear or excitement — or both.

you didn’t notice he had taken off his belt and slacks until he slapped the tip of his cock, your eyes widening at the sheer length.

“since you wanna act like a bitch, you’re gonna get treated like one. open up.”

#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 #𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝... ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 #dazai.osamu #Dazai smut #bsd smut #Dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut

[suzukiblu]

Tim’s my blorbo so I’ll always take more Tim content

Apparently Cadmus knew Experiment Thirteen was the one to invest in because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Apparently Cadmus also considered terminating Experiment Thirteen because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Tim knows this because he broke into the place and stole a copy of Superboy's file the day after they met.

He also knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like, because these absolute bastards not only took multiple pictures of it, they put those pictures in his fucking file. Not even, like, classified or tucked away behind a firewall or a password or anything. Not even in a seperate folder. Just right there in his standard file where literally any random scientist or doctor or goddamn intern could trip right over them without even meaning to.

Forget the fucking mind control; that's fucked up.

So yeah. Tim knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like. It's a stark, dark red, all sharp angles slung low in the V of his Adonis belt and cutting from one hip to the other, looking not unlike a stylized bird in flight coming at the viewer head-on. Bold. Undeniable. Very much like Superboy himself, really.

And exactly like the mark that came in on Tim when, he now knows, Superboy was first put together in a fucking petri dish. So that's . . . a whole thing, there.

Well. At least his soulmate is only literally fifteen years younger than him, not physically and mentally.

Although that doesn't really seem like a big improvement, to be honest.

Tim didn't even know he was into guys, actually? Definitely didn't know Superboy was into guys, all things considered. Like, he would not expect somebody like him to ever be subtle about who or what he was into.

Maybe they're platonics, Tim tries to tell himself. The fact that his first thought upon learning that Superboy was his soulmate was immediately questioning his own sexuality doesn't really support that theory, though.

Though it does help explain why Poison Ivy putting her hands on the guy had pissed him off so bad.

Like. It very much does.

Tim doesn't actually know what to do about this. Bruce still thinks he doesn't even have a soulmate, due to Tim previously really, really not wanting to deal with the absolute embarrassment of admitting that said soulmate was an actual fucking baby, so Tim never got the Bat-version of the soulmate talk. Bruce'd sat him down to give it to him when he'd first become Robin, but Tim hadn't had a mark then, obviously, so they'd both just assumed he didn't have to worry about it. Tim is pretty sure Bruce had been as relieved as he had to dodge that particular bullet, really. Apparently Dick had needed visual aids and hadn't understood the "gilly talk" version. And Jason had had questions.

Lots of questions.

Creative ones.

Sometimes Tim suspects Jason might've been an asshole. Like, just a little bit of one.

So no, Tim does not blame Bruce for deciding to skip that particular talk with him, especially when they'd both thought he wasn't gonna need to know any of it anyway.

So . . . yeah. He doesn't know how he's supposed to approach this situation. Obviously telling Superboy that they're soulmates would compromise Tim's secret identity and therefore Bruce's, and everybody and their damn mother knows Superboy himself doesn't even have a secret identity so it's not like Tim can figure that out and approach him that way.

On the other hand, not telling him that they're soulmates isn't a great start to being soulmates, now is it.

Crap, Tim thinks.

Then he calls Dick, because if he has to sit through the Bat-version of the soulmate talk, at least maybe Dick will be slightly less embarrassing to hear it from.

As long as there's no visual aids involved, anyway.

"Hey, Tim," Dick greets as he picks up the phone. Tim has a carefully crafted plan of attack, of course; several, in fact. He's got all sorts of subtle ways to lead the conversation without revealing anything too damning or too specific and while keeping everything in hypotheticals. Just making the whole thing either a quick thought exercise or casual curiosity from an unmarked kid who's heard one too many soulmate stories and wants to know more. So Tim's prepared. Tim's ready.

Tim panics.

"Poison Ivy kissed my soulmate and I want to burn down her entire life," he blurts.

"Uh," Dick says. "You're . . . gonna have to catch me up a little here, baby bird. For starters, I thought you didn't have a soulmate."

"I didn't," Tim says as he starts to pace back and forth across his bedroom, because he's already screwed this up so there's no point in playing coy now. "Then some dickheads in Metropolis decided to steal Superman's dead body and make a cocky asshole with douchey shades and a leather fetish out of it."

"Ohhhhh boy," Dick says. "What'd B say?"

"I found out like half an hour ago and you're the only person I've told, so nothing yet," Tim says. "What's the Bat-protocol for finding out your soulmate is somebody in the community, exactly? Specifically somebody in douchey shades?"

"Depends," Dick says. "How'd the kid react?"

". . . I don't know how to say this without sounding like a total creep, but he doesn't know," Tim admits with a wince. "I broke into Cadmus to make a copy of his file after I met him and they just . . . had his soulmark in it. Like. There wasn't even a password. It wasn't even in an isolated folder. It was just there."

"That is the most fucked up thing I've heard since the last time I had to talk to Jervis Tetch," Dick mutters in obvious disgust. "Alright, well, how are you reacting, then?"

"My soulmate is a baby," Tim grumbles disgruntledly, dropping into his desk chair. "A baby who is also a teenager."

"Tim, you're a teenager too," Dick reminds him wryly. "You are very much so a teenager too, in fact."

"Yeah, and it sucks," Tim says emphatically. "And I have, like, actual legal guardians and a home and a trust fund. Superboy just lives somewhere in Hawaii with a sleazy businessman and his kid and some random guy from Cadmus!"

"That's, uh, actually not great," Dick says, sounding a little troubled.

"You think?!" Tim demands. "He's a baby! An infant! And he lives with his frigging manager!"

"What the actual hell," Dick says.

"Just–is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway?" Tim mutters speculatively, drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment and then booting up his computer. "I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?"

"Wait, Superboy's not legally a person?" Dick asks incredulously.

"Nope," Tim says. "Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean."

"Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation," Dick says.

"Good point," Tim says, frowning consideringly as he pulls up his browser. "Do you think if I just do it as Tim Drake I can avoid compromising my identity?"

"I have no idea but if I were you I'd already be booking my flight and thinking up a cheap excuse to 'accidentally' flash a teen heartthrob superhero my soulmark anyway," Dick says.

"I am already booking my flight," Tim says mid-click of said booking. "Although, uh, flashing him our particular soulmark might require, like . . . third base, and I don't even know if he likes guys. I don't even know if he knows if he likes guys, he's like five minutes out of the cloning tube and like, I'm literally fifteen and don't know if I like guys, so why the hell would he?"

"Okay, yeah, that could be an issue," Dick says. "Hm. Wardrobe malfunction? Slutty beach day? Wet T-shirt contest?"

"I'm not above any of those options at this point, frankly," Tim grumbles, even though those ideas are all very "Nightwing" and not very "Robin". Technically he shouldn't be approaching this like Robin would anyway, because god forbid Superboy recognize his methodology.

Slutty beach day might have to be a thing, Tim realizes with resigned dread. He is really not comfortable with slutty beach day being a thing.

. . . maybe if he just gets lucky, he can catch Superboy having his own slutty beach day. Not to make any assumptions, just Tim's pretty sure if either of them were ever going to be the type to wear a speedo or low-waisted swim trunks or just walk around with their soulmark out in general . . .

Which, in Superboy's defense, well–his soulmark is already on file with Cadmus, so yeah. He might not even care if other people see it or not, considering that.

Then again, if Tim knew that a bunch of random strangers who'd wanted to mind-control him had all seen and taken pictures of his soulmark, he'd never wear anything that risked exposing it again. Like. Ever.

Possibly he'd just live and die in a wetsuit. Or coveralls. Overalls. Or just–whatever. Something like that.

. . . come to think of it, Superboy's costume is all one piece, isn't it.

Cadmus is full of assholes, Tim decides as he confirms his booking, then gets up to throw together a go-bag. He has no plan whatsoever, but whatever; it's a twelve-hour flight. He's gonna have time to think something up.

One go-through with airport security and a twelve-hour flight later, Tim has not thought anything up.

Dammit.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc robin #superboy #anonymous #rinfic #long post #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

[entitled-fangirl]

They're not gonna hit you.

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: The three travelers find themselves back in the QZ and get attacked. The reader gets injured.

Words: 2,370

Warnings: gunshots, blood, car crash, lots of cursing.

Author's note: I literally went word for word from the scene, adding a few pieces here and there. Enjoy :)

Masterlist <3

.....................................................................

“Don’t look at the state map. Look at the inset.”

“I don’t know where we are in that either!”

Y/N turned to look in the backseat, “Here, El. Let me see.”

“No, no. I got it. I mean… this is my second day in a fucking car, man.” She looked back to the map again, “I think we’re heading north?”

The truck continually moved through the seemingly abandoned road. Y/N looked out of the window, seeing that rusting cars and buildings that can begun to grow vines up each side. It was eerie, seeing a once heavily populated place be left completely untouched. 

Joel looks over slightly, “It’s gotta be the right….” He turns the truck wheel gently. “…What the fuck…?”

Ellie’s eyes widen as she looks to the left, “STOP!”

Joel hits the break, the tires screeching slightly. Y/N held out her hand to stabilize herself. 

“Is that the QZ?” Ellie asked.

Joel curiously peered over to where she was looking. It was. But it was abandoned.

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she pressed her body up against the glass, “Where the fuck is FEDRA?”

Joel and Y/N’s eyes held a cautious look to them, unsure of what to say.

A voice broke out from outside the car, “Hey!”

All three people stopped, staring out the windshield at the interruption. 

A man stumbled towards them, a look of pain on his face, “Please, Help!”

Joel immediately went into action, his face hardening, “Put your seatbelt on.”

Y/N immediately listened, her voice soft, “…Joel..?”

Ellie wondered, too, “Aren’t we gonna help him?”

“No.”

Joel hit the gas, turning the wheel in the man’s direction.

He jumped out of the road with a loud, “Fuck!”

Y/N leans back in her seat, grabbing the handle on the ceiling in a death grip.

Ellie peered out of the window, “Joel!”

A barrel was dropped from on top of a building by someone. It hit the windshield, cracking the entire thing. 

Joel swerved, struggling to stabilize the car and get them back on the road in a straight line. 

Y/N looked over to him, watching his eyes focus with a murderous glare, one he only saved for serious situations. 

It scared her. 

The truck hit a small bump, what seemed like nothing. In reality, it was a row of spiked that had flattened their tires. 

Joel kept swerving back and forth, determined to get them out of there.

A man steps out with a gun, and Joel began to swear under his breath. 

He jerked the wheel, sending the truck drifting to the side. It crashed into a building, the glass shattering loudly.

He leaned down, grabbing Y/N’s thigh, dropping his voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think so.”

“You’re not hurt? Nothin’?”

She placed a hand on his, “…no.”

He relaxed slightly before turning to Ellie in the backseat. She nodded, not even making him ask the questions.

A bullet hit the truck. All three survivors ducked.

“BELTS OFF. FAST!”

She always did what Joel told her to do. He had saved them many times before, and she would be a fool to doubt him now. 

Y/N opened the door, carefully getting out. She pulled herself to the ground, reaching a hand out to open Ellie’s door. The girl slid out, joining her on the ground. 

Joel got out on her side too, resting his hand on her back in comfort.

“Let’s see you, motherfucker!”

Joel let out a soft breath, controlling himself. He opened Ellie’s door again, reaching in to grab his weapon. He cocked the gun, sitting back down on the ground. 

“Give us your shit, you make it through this!”

Joel was slightly panicking now. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them. To her and Ellie. Never. 

He looked up, noticing a hole in the wall. He leaned over to Y/N, his voice soft and calm, “Hey, you see that hole? Can you squeeze through..?”

She stared at it in thought, the sound of gunshots being the only noise. 

“Hey,” he reprimanded, getting her attention again, “Hey.” He said a little sharper. He grabbed her jaw in his hand, bringing it close to him, “Look at me.”

Her eyes met his. 

“When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don’t come out until I say, okay?”

A bullet pierces through the truck window above them, dropping glass on them.

“…and they’re not gonna hit you.”

She looked over to Ellie, grabbing her hand. Joel could feel her anxiety.

“…LOOK AT ME!”

The two look at him, their faces close, “They’re not gonna hit you.” 

She could tell how serious this was by the look in his eyes. They were focused, serious, deadly. She didn’t know how this would end up for the three of them. 

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet.”

Ellie nodded, tightening her grip on Y/N’s hand. “…okay.”

Joel looked back to Y/N, “…okay?”

She nodded, her voice barely heard, “…okay.”

Joel stood, peering his gun over the top of the truck with a loud, “GO!”

Ellie was the first to move, pulling Y/N behind her. The two dropped to the ground, crawling over the glass, not caring of the scratches it could leave behind. 

When they near it, Ellie throws her bag in, crawling in behind it.

When Y/N’s hands touched the wall, she looked back.

Joel was crouched behind the truck, his body pressed against it tightly. He was waiting for the moment to strike, like a panther who had seen its first meal in weeks.

His eyes flickered to hers. 

She turned, pushing herself through the hole, disappearing from his view. 

The two girls sat against the wall there, listening to the gunshots, praying none of them hit Joel.

It went silent.

And that felt much worse. 

The two sat in silence, their eyes wide.

They heard soft footsteps, the glass crunching beneath someone’s feet. 

Y/N prayed it was Joel.

She leaned toward the hole, peering through it.

It was not Joel.

Right as she made eye contact with the man, a finally gunshot rang out.

The man dropped dead.

But that joy was short-lived by the sound of the door swinging open and physical fighting beginning.

She could hear Joel’s grunts, her heart calming slightly. But she knew she couldn’t stay that way. They needed to help him.

Ellie peered out, seeing for herself.

Joel was pinned to the ground, a gun pushing down on his neck.

“You’re gonna fucking pay. What you fuckin’ did, you fuckin’ killed yourself, motherfucker!”

Joel’s legs tried to push off the ground, his soft grunts filling the air. 

Y/N was unmoving. She didn’t know what to do. 

Ellie, however, took matters into her own hands. 

She left their safe hiding place.

And Y/N heard another gun shot ring out.

Joel’s soft grunts were heard as he tried to catch his breath.

Y/N peered out of the hole, lightly stepping out. 

Ellie stood over the man that attacked him, her gun in his face. He was begging her, his bloody hands out in surrender.

Y/N looked over to Joel, who sat on the ground, watching the interaction himself. He finally stood, staring at the gun in Ellie’s hand angrily. He stepped over to her, holding his hand out. She handed it over to him.

Joel stepped forward, listening to the man continue to beg. He turned back to Ellie, his voice a growl, “Get back behind the wall.”

Ellie hesitated. She knew what would happen if she did so. What Joel would do to him. But she listened anyway.

Joel’s gaze turned to Y/N, who was staring at the man with a compassionate expression. But Joel wouldn’t give it to her. His gaze hardened on her, as if commanding. 

Her shoulders slumped slightly, moving her body towards the hole again. 

When Joel watched her body disappear from his sight, he leaned down to the man.

On the other side, the woman leaned against the wall, trying to control her breath.

Joel was ruthless. Unforgiving. And Merciless. She knew the man didn’t have a chance. Not a man. He was just a boy. And Joel would kill him for what he did.

Ellie seemed to be thinking the same thing. She wrapped her arms around Y/N for comfort, her head pushed against the woman’s shoulder.

They listened as the boy’s cries were immediately stopped.

Silence filled the room.

“Sweetheart, I gotta get in there. I can’t fit through.”

Ellie pulled away to answer for her, “There’s some stuff against the door.”

“Well, can you move it?”

Y/N wiped the tears that fell from her face, moving towards the door.

…

Once Joel was in the room and the door was re-barricaded, they simply stared at each other. 

Ellie broke it, pulling her backpack up, “I’m good. I got some food in here still, and I got your light…still.”

Joel let out a breath, “Let’s go. Up. Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.”

He moved toward the back of the building, stopping in front of Y/N, his hand reaching up to lightly brush the cut on her forehead before moving on.

“Stay close.”

They carefully walked through the alleyways, checking each corner. 

…

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.”

Joel, Ellie, and Y/N were currently tucked away in a building in a town. Newspapers covered the windows, where they peered through the torn ones carefully. They couldn’t risk getting caught. 

All three sat down in thought, the silence falling over the room.

Ellie sat up slightly, “Are you okay?”

Joel turned to her, “I’m alright. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

Joel began to shake his head, “Thing is, I didn’t hear that guy comin’. And you shouldn’t have had to… you know?”

Ellie looked up at him, “Well, you’re glad I did, right?”

Joel sighed, “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to— It’s not like you killed him. But… I know what it’s like the first time that you hurt … someone like that. You shouldn’t have had to. And… I’m sorry.”

Joel turned to Y/N, noticing her silence, “…sweetheart, you alright?”

She stood, leaning against the cold brick wall. “I…uh…yeah,” her hand was pulled into her jacket, her breathing shallow, “…I…I think so.”

Joel didn’t like that answer. He stood up, approaching her. “You sure? You’re… little pale, there.”

She stood up straighter. “Joel… stop. I… I’m fine. Fine..”

His eyes scanned her body, resting on the hand that laid in her jacket. “Let me see.”

She pulled herself all the way up, standing from the wall, “…leave me alone. I… I’m fine.”

He sighed. She wouldn’t like this, but he had to do it anyway. “I said ‘Let me see.’”

She shook her head, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.

He started to get angry now. He rushed forward, grabbing her forearm, pulling it from her jacket. 

Her hand was covered in blood.

He stared at it in shock, his body trying to calculate what to do. “Sweetheart… what….?”

Ellie sat up straight, her eyes wide.

Joel wrapped his arm around the woman, pulling her to sit. He kneeled down in front of her. “Alright, baby. Let me see the damage, yeah?”

Her eyes were glossy with tears. Her heart was breaking. 

Joel peeled back Y/N’s jacket. 

Blood gushed through her shirt. Her stomach was covered in the red liquid.

Joel felt an involuntary breath leave his lungs. Jesus, this was not good. “Oh… okay, honey. It’s gonna be alright. Just…let’s lay you down.”

He gently pulls her down, her body resting on the desk that barricaded the door. He looked over his shoulder, “Ellie. Get my bag.”

Y/N began to panic. She couldn’t handle the look in Joel’s eyes, the horrified look he had given her. Her breath began to pick up, the blood leaving her body faster. 

He notices. 

“Hey, hey…shh… it’s alright. Listen… you’re gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of that.”

He peeled her shirt up, revealing a huge chunk of glass that resided in his stomach. Thank God it wasn’t a bullet.

Ellie brought his bag, setting it on the desk next to the woman’s head. 

“Hold her hand.”

Ellie turned, “…what?”

“Hold her hand. She’s gonna need it.”

Ellie listened, gripping the woman’s hand in her own.

Joel gripped the glass in his fingers, pulling it out slowly.

Y/N yelped slightly, her body jerking.

“Hey, hey…you gotta be quiet now. Shh…”

She grunted, pulling her other hand to cover her mouth.

He pulled it out, quickly pressing one of his spare shirts against her stomach harshly. It hurt her, it hurt him. He hated seeing her in pain.

Especially when she started to cry.

He reaches his other hand down around her back of her neck, pulling her up slightly and dipping his head to make their foreheads meet. He felt her soft breath against his face. “Good… you’re doing so good for me… just… just… stay like that.”

He then wrapped a cloth around her stomach, making sure it was tight against her stomach. 

Her eyes began to close.

“Hey. Hey. Stay with me, now.”

But it wasn’t working.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You gotta stay awake. C’mon.”

She let out a grunt, her eyes now closed.

“Goddamnit. DAMN IT!”

Elie gently touched Joel’s shoulder, a silent reminder to be quiet. “She’ll be fine. She’s still breathing.”

Joel sighed, stepping away, brushing his face with his hands. He sat on a crate, his focus back on Ellie.

She sighed, sitting where she had been before. “…Wasn’t my first time.”

Joel’s eyes hardened, his hand reaching back to take out the gun that he had taken away from her, handing it back. “Show me your grip. Finger off the trigger.”

…

The two spent a few hours in each other’s company, Joel teaching her the rules of gun safety. But they couldn’t help but peer back over to Y/N occasionally, checking her breathing.

........................................................................

Author's note: how do we feel about a part 2????

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller imagine #tlou imagine

[teambyler]

Will's anti-Vecna song should be David Bowie's "Heroes"

We know from the new BTS pic that he has headphones and a Walkman. Like Max, he might be fending off Vecna:

Max's anti-Vecna song was highly personal to her. It helped her through her guilt and depression and feeling like she deserved to die.

For Will, "Should I Stay or Should I Go" is cute, but it doesn't have emotional weight. It might have helped a child Will in the Upside Down in s1, when it made him think of home and Jonathan, but he's all grown up now. He's changed.

If Byler becomes realized, David Bowie's "Heroes" is the perfect song for Mike and Will's relationship that would help Will resist Vecna. It's canon that Will likes David Bowie: kid Mike prefers the androgynous rock star over Kenny Rogers (s2e1).

@surferbeto on YouTube comments:

This is a heroic love song. Bowie starts out crooning but pretty soon he ramps up and belts it out hard. This song is about risking getting shot by East German border police and dragged over barbed wire for love. This is about young love against impossible odds. It's about that gloriously tragic fantasy... of giving our life in some grandly romantic way to save the life of our beloved. Maybe by taking a bullet for them and dying in their arms in the shadow of the Berlin Wall.

Having David Bowie's "Heroes" in the show would call-back to Peter Gabriel's somber 2010 cover from s1, when Mike hugged his mom thinking Will was dead. But Bowie's original is defiant, triumphant, and bittersweet. (Seriously, if you haven't yet, listen to it before reading further. It's perfect.)

It would play when Mike and Will have their first kiss. Their song of losing each other is now of finding each other.

If Byler is realized, it could play as Mike and Will dare to hold hands in the school hall, as we fade out to the end credits.

Will would put it on his Walkman. If Will and Mike are bullied for their relationship, "Heroes" perfectly expresses their defiance and willingness to love each other despite the harm that might come to them.

It's the song that would most help Will in case he gets Vecna'd. It doesn't just remind him of Mike; it culminates his journey over the five seasons. As a kid he told Jonathan he's not a baby, not just a victim. Despite seeming shy and weak, he has a huge amount of quiet courage, but his struggle in s3 and s4 was largely internal. ("I'm not gonna fall in love.") Show creator Matt Duffer says about s5: "Will's going to be a big part and focus... We're starting to see his coming of age, really... You're starting to see him come into his own." If Byler becomes real, then his fight becomes external, confronting the homophobia in Hawkins and the literal hell threatening his friends. He will rise to the occasion.

"Will really takes center stage again in [season] 5," Ross Duffer told Variety. "This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality – it’s Will coming into his own as a young man."

In s2, Will only allowed Mike to protect him because he didn't feel pitied by Mike; Mike saw his strength. A stronger Will will pay him back and protect him from the twin dangers they face.

It's Will's turn to be the hero. His fight for others is his fight for himself. "Heroes" perfectly expresses his journey of defying all odds to fight for HIS RIGHT TO LOVE.

P.S. Follow me and read my blog! I have so much to say!

#byler #will defends mike with a gun #stranger things #vecna #speculation #song #should i stay or should i go #david bowie #heroes #headphones #walkman

[raffe156]

@deadbranch When I said give me a few hours I meant give me a few days haha!

Here the shortest smut I’ve ever written haha inspired by your little snack of smut from the other day 💖✨

NSFW duh 👍🏽✨

“It’s gonna have to be a quick one kid” Price was already unbuckling his belt, as you hopped on his desk your gym shorts and underwear already round your ankle, you opened your legs wide for him to get a good look at you, your fingers spreading yourself open demonstrating to him just how wet you were, the sight so beautiful it was enough to make him take a bullet straight to the heart.

“Fuck me…” his hand joined yours his thumb rolling over your clit. It sent a jolt up you spine.

“That’s the point of this ‘meeting’ Captain…”

Price grinned as he moved in closer, a quick wet kiss before he shoved you backwards on his desk, folders, stationary even an empty ashtray went flying he didn’t care he wanted you pinned underneath him. You felt the head of his cock bully it’s way inside you, you shifted your hips to try an accommodate his girth but Price wasn’t giving you a chance like he said it was going to be a quickie an with one slam he was in.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #call of duty #captain john price x reader #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #cod mw #modern warfare #john price smut #captain price smut #price smut #captain john price x you #john price x reader #daddy price #captian price #price x reader #john price x you #cod price #john price fanfic #cod smut #smut drabble

[house-of-kolchek]

Ghosts Behind The Falls (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

SUPRISE EVERYONE ITS A GHOST FIC

Everyone say thank you to @kawaiiwitch224 for getting me hooked onto this son of a bitch and inspiring FOUR THOUSAND WORDS of smut. I love you. Now back to your regularly unscheduled programming.

WARNINGS: This is literally just smut. There's like zero plot. Enjoy a very naked Ghost talking dirty to you in a cave.

Word Count: 4k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be an easy mission. A quick drug bust - taking out the leader of one of the heavy-hitting cartels. The plan was solid, with a clear entry and exit plan, and intel on each and every soul that would be in the building. It was simple and covert, easily attainable with two agents.

So, how you became the target, you’d never know. 

It had all happened so fast - one second you were sweeping through a freshly cleared room, keeping your senses tuned for the target, the one from the pictures you’d spent hours studying. 

And the next you were turning tail and fucking running. 

“When did the entire fucking cartel decide to show at the door?!” You shrieked, skirting sideways to dodge a stray bullet in your path. 

“Just fuckin’ run!” A deep voice called from behind you, followed by a spray of gunfire towards your attacker. Ghost’s hand wrapped around your bicep, guiding you to the door and kicking you off in a sprint. 

You cursed, stumbling over a few steps before shooting towards the tree line. Ghost was hot on your heels, grunting curses of his own under his breath. The thundering shouts of the cartel echoed behind you, no doubt giving chase as you ran with your tail between your legs. You aimed for the trees, taking solace in their protection. 

Until of course, the ground decided to drop off.

“Hang on hang on hang on!” You shrieked, digging your feet in and skidding to a stop. Your balance threw you off, and one leg was sent flying over the cliff edge, your arms flailing for any sort of purchase. 

Just before your stomach could officially drop, Ghost’s strong hand found your forearm, tugging you away from the ledge and into his side. You gasped, stumbling for a moment as you found a death grip on his vest.

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning over to survey the water below. “We’re gonna have to jump.”

“What! No!” you yelped, tightening your grip on him. “I can’t!”

“Wait you- what?”

“I can’t jump from this height!”

“Sweetheart, you haven’t got much choice,” he hissed, glancing back towards the growing shouts and gunshots. You stiffened, creeping away from the edge. 

“I’m scared of heights,” you all but whispered. Your fingers flexed, hovering over the pistol tucked in your belt. Ghost gave you an incredulous look, seemingly baffled that you would rather stand and fight an obviously losing battle. He was right of course - you stood no chance - but that rational part of your brain had long since left the premises. 

The shouts grew louder, the outlines of your attackers growing into focus. A stray bullet struck the ground a few feet away, and for the first time in a long while, you jumped at the sound. 

It was at that moment Ghost decided to take matters into his own hands. 

“Ah for the love of- hold on,” he growled, holstering his gun. Your breath left you again as his arms found your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.

“Wait shit what are you- RILEY!” You shrieked, digging your nails into the sides of his vest as he leapt off the cliff edge. Your scream was muffled as he braced the back of your head, burying your face into his armoured chest. His other arm tightened around your waist as cold air swept past you. 

And then, like a sharp jolt to your system, you hit the water. After a short moment, his arms loosened, his hand keeping hold on yours to guide you back to the surface. 

You coughed, sucking in a large breath of air as you broke from the water. Blinking, you glanced up, towards the cliff you’d been standing on mere seconds ago. 

“GHOST!” you hollered, muffled behind the large, gloved hand that slapped over your mouth. 

“Scream at me later, yeah?” he hissed, kicking through the water until the two of you were nearly pressed against the rocks. His voice was low as he muttered next to your ear. “If they think we’re dead after that fall, let’s keep it that way.”

Your face grew warm, your breath leaving you from the combination of his arm falling to tighten around your waist, and the echoing shouts of others above.  

“There.” He nodded towards a towering waterfall, a small corridor just peeking out from the side. “We can hold up there while I call for exfil.”

Finally releasing your waist, he held a finger towards the mouth of his mask, before dipping his head under the water and swimming towards the falls. With a heavy sigh, and a slight tingle between your legs, you followed suit, diving below the water as you swam towards the cover.

The waterfall was roaring, audible even below the surface of the water. As you broke for another breath, you startled at the spray. Blinking the drops from your eyes, you made brief contact with Ghost, paddling to meet him at the edge of the small corridor. 

Heaving yourself back onto solid ground, you coughed, wiping the spray of water from your lips. Ghost wasn’t far behind you, flicking on his flashlight to survey the space. He hummed his approval, barely heard over the water as he stepped further into the expansive cave that stretched behind the falls.

It was dark, musty and cold. But it was safe, and that was all that mattered. Combing a hand through your dripping hair, you followed the Lieutenant into the cave, dropping to a seat on a rock farther back. Ghost remained on his feet, glancing around the space once more.

“Should do for now,” he hummed.

“Yeah. It’s good,” you commented with a shrug. “At least there’s no more cliffs for you to throw me over.”

“Hey. You weren’t gonna jump and-” he sucked in a breath, only to choke on some of the water that soaked through his mask.

“Jesus Chri- you’re gonna waterboard yourself!”

You were met with a sharp exhale, and a spray of water from the mask where his mouth would be.

“I’ll be fine,” he commented, his eyes darting sideways to ignore your pointed look. The two of you were silent for a moment, Ghost muffling a few lingering coughs behind his hand.

“and I was gonna jump. Eventually,” you hissed. His gaze found yours again, cutting straight through the wall you were struggling to keep up.

“Not before gettin’ shot.”

“Well that seems more like a me problem than a you problem.”

“Would you rather I’d left you to get filled with bullets?”

Your mouth fell open and closed a few times as you struggled to find a quick response. You heard the barely-there rumble of a chuckle from the man, as he stepped back towards the cave entrance.

“S’what I thought,” he quipped. He was right, and you both knew it. His actions had saved your life, as much as you hated to admit it. You heaved a long sigh, the thread holding up your pride finally snapping.

“Thank you,” you uttered, causing Ghost to stutter in his steps. His head turned to the side, flashing a short stripe of white from the skull shaped plate across his face. With a short clear of his throat, he nodded.

“Right. Gonna call for exfil.”

—

By the time he returned, not even ten minutes later, the cold had begun to seep through your skin. In the damp space, you were still dripping, your clothes beginning to feel like ice. 

Of course, the breeze and constant spray from the waterfall didn’t help either.

“You alright there?” Ghost asked, unable to keep the humour hidden from his voice. You shivered, raising a brow in his direction.

“Peachy. What’s the plan?”

Ghost chuckled, low and husky. If you hadn’t been fucking freezing, you might have noticed the slight heat behind it. 

“ETA for exfil’s forty five minutes. We’re staying put till then,” he muttered, stepping close enough that his armor brushed against your upper arm. You shuddered, instinctively leaning further into the warmth you craved. 

“Great,” you hummed. “Forty five minutes to fucking freeze to death.” Ghost sighed, though there was no malice behind it. His gloved hand found your shoulder, prompting you to tilt your head to face him.

“Take off your clothes.”

“I’m sorry- What?” You blanched, your cheeks growing even more flushed. 

“What, conserving body heat and all that,” he justified, reaching to unclip the buckles of his vest. You fell into silence, forcing all the inappropriate thoughts to flee from your mind. Though, as you found yourself mirroring his actions, you couldn’t find the will to tear your gaze away from his hands working at the layers of his clothing, and each flash of skin he exposed. 

It was crazy. Like something out of a wet dream you may have had more than once. And it was happening. Like right in front of you happening. 

Your pants fell in a pile, the last article of your clothing save for your undergarments. Dipping your head to hide your blush, you didn’t even have the time to appreciate him before his hands - his bare hands - found your hips, pulling you flush against his chest.

You nearly gasped at the feeling of his skin, instantly warming your own. It was… effective, in more ways than one, as your cheek pressed into his chest. 

“Better?” He asked, and you could hear the smirk behind his mask. Unable to form the words, you nodded, acutely aware of the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. 

It was a side you hadn’t seen from the Lieutenant before - so openly kind and almost soft. His hands rubbed your arms a few times before falling loosely across your lower back. Your chest flared with warmth as he sucked in a barely audible breath. 

Each brush of his skin sent shocks racing up your spine, to the point where you almost felt too warm. You leaned back - just slightly - turning to meet his. Very. Bare. Chest. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. 

“‘Scuse me?”

“Um- I mean,” you babbled, slowly slipping from his arms. It didn’t help of course, if only the full sight of him clad in nothing but a mask and boxers only fanned the flames in your core. Your face flushed as you choked on every word trying to escape your throat. “I mean just like-“

You sighed. Might as well be fuckin’ out with it. 

“What fucking adonis carved you out?”

Ghost was silent for a long moment. It would have been comical, watching him flounder for words if you weren’t stuck in the exact same position. You couldn’t place it, the new, sudden shift in his demeanor, until he started taking long strides towards you.

“Wait what are you doing-” you were cut off as his arms found your waist again, pulling you even closer than before. Your hands flew to either side of his chest, and you nearly gasped at the half hard pressure against your hips. 

“You really think that?” he hummed, letting one hand brush up and down your spine, hovering dangerously close to the clasp of your bra. With a complete lack of words on your tongue, you nodded, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his skin.

“Well then. I might have an idea on how we can keep… warm.” You nearly keened from the growl in his tone, his voice growing even huskier as his hands fell back to squeeze at your hips. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed, surprised at how quickly you were falling apart. The man had barely touched you and you were on the verge of snapping. As if he’d heard your thoughts, Ghost chuckled, low and husky, clearly enjoying the way you stroked his ego. 

Without another word, he had you walking backwards until your shoulders hit the damp stone wall. You yelped at the sharpness of the cold stone, curling your hips further into his and accidentally grinding against him. The clipped groan he let out had you seeing stars, your arousal only fueled by the deep baritone of his voice. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Doll,” he husked, brushing his fingers along the skin of your stomach. Your head fell back against the stones, your mouth falling open to let out hot breaths as his other hand slid down to grip the back of your thigh. Hoisting it over his hip, you gasped at the sudden rush of air over your clothed core. Through your panties, Ghost slid one finger in a stripe across your core, brushing with delicious friction against your clit. 

And you whined.

“Ghost-”

“Simon,” he cut you off. Finding your eyes through the mask, you studied the intensity of his gaze, almost feeling shy under its heat. 

“Simon,” you breathed, and he blinked, unable to suppress the slight shudder in his shoulders as you used his name. His real name. 

“Now that’s better.”

His head fell against the stone, his chin brushing against your shoulder. With another swipe of his finger across your panties, he pulled another clipped whine from the back of your throat. Letting his finger drag, he moved to circle over your clit through the fabric, increasing the pressure and forcing the friction across your nerves to amplify. You dug into his shoulder, panting a short breath as shocks of pleasure traveled up your spine. 

“Simon, that’s-” you shot out another exhale. “That’s so good.” At your praise, his pace quickened, and he added another finger to the mix. There was a pressure against the skin of your shoulder, and you barely processed the outline of his lips through the rough fabric of his mask, pressing kisses against your collarbone. 

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, biting you through his mask. You took a sharp breath. “I know how to make it even better.”

Oh how did you end up here. Stuck in a cave with your wildly attractive colleague practically naked and grinding against your hip. Muttering the filthiest things in your ears. Hooking his thumb to slide his mask up to his nose.

Wait, what?

“Simon?” 

You were met with his shining grin, and the beautiful sight of his fair skin, all the way up from his chin to the bottom of his nose. His lips looked absolutely delicious. Full and sporting the perfect shade of pink. As you squinted, you were just able to make out a scar that travelled to the corner of his lip.

And that was all you were able to catch before his lips were on yours.

His kiss was deep and passionate, chasing after your lips as if he’d been craving them for years. His hands were completely forgotten, moving to simply squeeze the sides of your hips. You kissed him back just as eager, sighing at the taste of his lips. In a daring move, you swept your tongue across his lower lip, squeaking as his tongue tangled with yours. 

He was barely able to catch one breath before he was kissing you again, falling out of the spell enough to slide his hands up the sides of your waist to your ribcage. As his tongue met yours once again, he found the clasp of your bra, struggling with it for less than a second before the garment was sliding off your shoulders. He wasted no time in finding your breasts, his calloused palms catching against your nipples and drawing a high pitched moan from your throat. 

Your lips broke from his in a messy groan as you arched into his chest. His eyes fluttered shut, his bottom lip pinching between his teeth at the feel of your skin. One hand drew to the back of your neck, his pinky finger curling under your jaw to tilt your head back. You shivered at the graze of his teeth against your jawline, drawing down the column of your throat, where he left a pink bite mark against your skin. 

“Oh, you like that?” he growled, his gaze fluttering up to your face. Breathless, you only nodded, feeling his smile against your skin. “You like when I leave my mark on you, eh?” You nodded again, and his teeth clamped down, just below your collarbone. 

Simon soothed the mark, massaging your skin with his tongue and his lips until a dark bruise formed. Your hands flew to the back of his neck, your hips jumping against his as he brought his kisses lower, his breath hovering right over your breasts. With a soft, pleased sigh, he brought his lips down to your nipple, teasing and tugging at the bud, drawing an endless supply of clipped moans from behind your gritted teeth. 

You ground your core against him, tightening your leg around his waist as you chased that friction you desperately craved. Simon sucked in a sharp breath, his mouth breaking from your skin for a moment to regain composure. But his lips didn’t falter for long. With a wicked grin, he brought his mouth to your other nipple, brushing it with his teeth. His grip fell to your waist, tightening around your hips and jerking them hard against his barely-covered erection.

You cried out, digging your nails into the back of his neck as he met your hips with a sharp thrust. Dragging against your core, his fingers dug further into your skin as you whined. Your stomach felt tight, every ounce of you wanting to wriggle against his grip, chase after that delicious friction, but his hands held firm. That knot in your core wound up impossibly tight, your face growing even hotter as he bucked your hips into his again, and again, and again.

Until it finally snapped.

“Simon!” you keened, your mouth falling open with soundless moans as your orgasm washed over you. The accused continued to grind against you, riding you through each wave until your twitching stilled. 

You sucked in a heavy breath, letting your hands fall loose, your fingers dancing gently down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders. His fingers flexed against your waist, eyes darting to meet yours again. His pupils had blown wide enough to blend in completely with his dark irises. And in the dark lighting of the cave, you could have sworn you saw a somewhat glossy reflection in them. 

Without a word, Simon leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. His palm slid up your back, laying flat between your shoulder blades to press you further into his chest. His skin was still impossibly warm, slightly dampened with a mix of sweat and sprays of water from the falls. 

You’re not sure when, or how it happened, but your kiss grew fervently heated again. His tongue pushed past your lips, tangling with yours in a messy show of dominance. Simon's hands slid from your back, his thumbs brushing across each of your sensitive nipples before he broke away from the kiss. 

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, yeah?” he growled, his hands finding your waist and spinning you around to face the stones behind you. “Hands on the wall.”

With a jolt, that familiar sense of arousal pooled in your lower stomach again. Already craving what you knew was coming next, you threw your palms flat against the stone, gasping at the coldness of it. Simon pressed his front against your back, and you shuddered at the realization that he’d stripped off his underwear. 

His hands started at your throat. Brushing his fingers against your skin, they traveled down, stopping to give attention to each of your breasts, covering each mound and drawing a shaky breath from you. He skimmed over your abdomen, hooking his thumbs into the sides of your panties and dragging them down your legs. He took his time, inching his way across your skin with feather-light touches, and you just knew he was doing it to rile you up.

“Simon, please,” you begged, subtly pressing your hips back against him. You gasped at the hardness pressing back - it was big. 

Not that you expected otherwise.

Simon chuckled behind you, all low and sexy. Your breath hitched in your throat as his tip grazed your entrance. You shifted your hips, almost trying to seat yourself on him, earning another dark chuckle. 

“Ah ah- patience,” he teased. You huffed, desperate for his touch as his tip brushed across your entrance again, just barely dipping in. As your spine shuddered again, he found a solid grip on your waist, suddenly filling you with one deep thrust. 

You cried, slapping a hand over your mouth as he hit that spot deep within. Your eyes glazed over, muffling another whimper as he gave another shallow thrust. And then suddenly, his breath fanned across your ear.

“Hands back on the wall,” he ordered. “I’m the only one that can hear you. And God, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you keep making.”

He solidified his words with another pointed thrust, and your hands slapped against the wall, a long, pitched whine ripping from your throat. 

“That’s more like it.” You could hear the grin behind his words as he pulled out until just the tip remained, before slamming back into you.

His hand found your hip, tilting it in a way that arched your back until his hips could fall flush against yours. You cried at the new angle, the tip of him brushing against your inner walls in long strokes. You curled your fingers into the rocks, your nails screaming in protest as they scratched against the rough stone. Simon’s free hand caught yours, prying your nails from the wall and curling his fingers between yours. 

He didn’t keep the same pace for long, switching between long, drawn out thrusts, and practically drilling into your core. You let moans and whimpers fly, crying out each time he hit the spot that had you seeing stars. Simon’s own composure started to falter, clipped noises escaping from the back of his throat as he leaned more weight across your back. You felt him everywhere - his hand wandering across your stomach, his chest pressed fully against your back, his pinpointed thrusts hitting your inner walls. Hell, even the smell of him filled your senses, spinning in your head until all that existed around you was him.

“Fuck-” he swore, his voice just barely cracking behind his gritted teeth. “I hope you’re getting close, doll.” His thrusts grew sloppier with each word, and his fingers tightened around yours. 

“Yeah-” you breathed, unable to form any other words. “I’m just-” he tilted his hips slightly, hitting you at a perfect angle. “Fuck! Right there!” Your pitch grew higher with each thrust as he drilled into that spot over and over, your entire body tightening around him as you approached the edge of your orgasm.

Simon growled as he came, pinning you with one final thrust that had you barrelling over the edge with him. You let out a long, drawn out sigh as your muscles finally relaxed. Simon leaned into you, pressing the both of you against the stone wall as he fought to regain his own breath. 

“Well. I’d say I’m sufficiently warmed up.” You said between heaving breaths. Simon laughed, moving to wrap his arms around you in a gentle embrace. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, pressed up against that damp stone wall. It was long enough that the crack of daylight past the waterfall began to fade, leaving the moon to light up the dim space. Eventually, reality called, and you gently slid away from him to collect your still-damp clothing. 

“Hey - This is gonna become a more… regular thing, right?” You asked, unable to keep that shining sense of hope from the back of your voice. Because God, you wanted it to. All at once, you were addicted to the man, never able to get enough. Hell, you were already tempted to jump him again as you watched him slide his damp shirt back on - the fabric clinging perfectly to his body. 

Simon crossed the three steps towards you, his hand cupping your cheek as he drew you into one more long, passionate kiss. His fingers played with the ends of your hair even as he broke away from your lips, reaching to finally slide his mask back over his chin. The radio crackled to life with orders for exfil as he pulled you against his side. 

“Sweetheart, there’s no fucking way I’m letting that stay a one-time occurrence.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags!

@kawaiiwitch224 @kassiekolchek22 @buttermykolchek @obsessedwithtoomanythings @lorebite @yellowroses-world @ageofbajabule

#cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut

[strniohoeee]

Racketeer Pt. 3

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N hates Chris hoodrat lifestyle, but when something goes wrong she’s ready to protect her man👥 Okay this is part 3 of a series I just made for shits and giggles for my best friend, but the fact that so many people like it is shocking and also amazing!!! Love this for us, I’m a hoe for hoodrat Chris even though I’m a Matt girl🧎🏽‍♀️

Warnings⚠️: uhh d*ath threats, Chris with a pewpew, pistol whipping, and uhhh I think that’s all…hope you enjoy 🖤

Song for the imagine: 308-22Gz (this is pure hoodrat NY trap music I LOVE IT)

When we spin through, it’s a D-O-A

We caught a opp at like 3:08

Fuck it and fuck up a B-O-A

Flashback

“Chris I’m not fucking holding your gun, so I’m definitely not fucking shooting it” I told Chris as he had his pistol on the kitchen table

“Baby why not? We literally got targets on our back because of who I am. I want my lady to be able to handle her own if I’m not there” he said in a matter of fact way

“Yeah a target on our back because of the life YOU chose to run with….plus I will always have you, so no” I said drinking my water

“What if I’m in a headlock, the pistols on the ground, and any one of his goons could come and pop me, and then pop you” he said raising his eyebrows

“Well then the lord better be on our side cause I ain’t picking up your gun” I said shrugging my shoulders

He picks up his gun and points it at me

“CHRISTOPHER HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND” I said flinching

“BANG BANG BANG, you’re dead” and then he turns the gun on himself “BANG BANG BANG, I’m dead” he said laughing

“Put the fucking gun down now” I said getting upset with him

“Baby the clips empty, and I took the bullet out” he said showing me the gun

“Give me the fucking gun, and show me how to use it” I said getting annoyed

“YES IM TEACHING MY BABYYY, I’m gonna have my own personal shooter” he said getting excited

Flashback over

Tonight Chris’s friends were having a party after one of the guys got released from prison. They rented out a whole club for this kid

“I don’t want to go” I said to Chris dragging my feet

“Come on, why not it’s a nice area. The club is only open for us, and you know ima protect you” he said getting dressed

I was already ready, but I just didn’t want to go anymore. I felt like this was our whole life…. parties, fast cars and thugs….but I digress

“Fine I’ll fucking go” I said getting my outfit picked out. It was cold in Boston, so I decided on a long sleeve fitted black shirt, medium wash baggy boyfriend jeans, and my black Air Force 1s (shawty on demon time). I flat ironed my hair, and put on my black north face puffer jacket

“The black air forces?? Whose head are you stompin on tonight?” Chris asked laughing

“Anybody who fucks with you” I said putting my perfume on

“Blue jeans or black” he asked me

“Black” I said back

Chris came out in an all black shirt, with black jeans, his timberland boots on, and his black puffer coat

“Alright baby Boston Red Sox black and white hat, or Yankees” he asked

“Boston….HELLOOO” I said laughing at him

“Duhhh how could I be so stupid” he said making a dumb face

We had driven to the location of the club, and it was indeed a nice area, but it was known for gangs so there were some dodgy people out.

“Don’t leave my side at all” Chris said helping me out the passenger side, and shutting the door behind me

“Never baby” I said, and he locked the car

We walked to the club, and immediately I recognized everybody there. I even seen some of my girl friends who were either dating or messing around with one of these guys

The whole night we had such a blast, laughing, talking, drinking and dancing. Although these people had some crazy shit under their belt, they were actually super nice and respectful people.

“Yoo there’s some kids out there, talking about Drew’s gang or whatever” one of Chris friends came up and said to all of us

“That little fucking kid with the tattoos on his face?” Chris asked

“Yeah, he’s getting mad staticy outside, and wallin out. The security guards about to lay his ass out” he said

“Tell that fucking kid that I’m going to be dealing with his soon” Chris said taking a sip of his drink

“Ai, he’s alone so he ain’t gonna try some shit” he said to Chris

“Even if he does…I’m strapped tonight” Chri said lifting his shirt up exposing the pistol in his waistband

His friend nodded at him, and went to head back out to relay the message to the other guy.

“Baby….for once not tonight” I said looking at Chris

“I’m not gonna do anything, but if people start talking crazy” he said raising his hands up

“No Chris! You have to stop this” I told him taking a sip of my drink

“What?? I’ll bust him in his medulla….nobody will fuck wit me after that” Chris said laughing

I just shook my head and laughed at him

At this point it was about 2AM, and we all started to head out. We walked outside, and Chris was saying bye to the security guard and some of his friends

I was waiting for Chris to finish chatting with his security guard, when I saw someone in the corner of my eye. For once can someone not try Chris and I

“Yoo this your man?” The kid said coming up to me and pointing at Chris

I just ignored him, me being from New York…you never ever turn your head when someone’s coming up from behind you to ask you, or tell you something. That’s a death wish.

“You deaf ma?” I heard him say again

“Yo get the fuck outta here” I heard Chris say from behind me

“Yo get the fuck outta here Chris, Drew’s people got something for your ass, and it’s gonna start with your lady here” he said nodding his head at me

“Did you just threaten my woman” I heard Chris say, and he started to walk towards him, so I turned around to watch this glancing at the security guard to keep an eye out

“Don’t shoot the messenger…..you keep fucking wit our guys…they gonna come for you” he said

“I’ll shoot you, and the motherfucka who sent you” Chris said getting closer to the guy

“Babe stop” I said trying to keep Chris calm

“Yeah listen to your lady…wouldn’t want her with a hole between her eyes now would we?” He asked smuggly

All of a sudden I just see Chris swing at the guy, his right fist connecting with his cheek

“DONT YOU EVER FUCKING SAY SOME SHIT ABOUT KILLING MY GIRL. ILL FUCKING KILL YOUR WHOLE LIFELINE BITCH” Chris screamed at him and they started to throw punches

“CHRIS PLEASE STOP, THIS HAS TO FUCKING STOP PLEASE” I said begging, but not wanting to get in between them because I was not about to get cracked in the jaw

I'm not sure what happened but they started to struggle with each other, and were just scuffling. I had a feeling the guy felt Chris’s gun, and was trying to grab it

“FUCK YOU” Chris started to scream and started throwing punches at the guys ribs, as he had Chris in a headlock

All of a sudden his pistol fell out, and at the same time the guy got Chris on his back on the ground, and they were throwing punches.

The pistol slid pretty far, and I was contemplating on if I wanted to pick it up or not…..Fuck it…this is my man, and I will fucking do anything to protect him

I picked up the pistol, and cocked it back

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY MAN, OR I WILL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF” I yelled at the guy, both of them turning to look at me

“You’re a little bitch, you ain’t pulling no fucking trigger fuck outta here” he said still struggling with Chris

I don’t know what came over me, but I moved the gun from pointed at his head to pointed just behind it, and then I pulled the trigger

The bullet flew right past his head, and it was so fucking loud, everybody froze including me

“THE FUCK” the guy yelled, and while he was looking at me Chris used this to punch him on the jaw knocking him backwards

Chris got up, and came over to me, and grabbed the pistol out of my hands

He walked over to the guy, standing over him and grabbed him by his shirt

All of a sudden Chris pistol whipped the guy, and I gasped covering my mouth

“If you ever come around me and my people, and my FUCKING woman again talking out your neck I’m going to come for your whole fucking blood line, got it” he said as he held the pistol under the kids chin

“Yeah yeah” the guy said out of it

“NO FUCKING YEAH YEAH, YOU GET IT OR YOU DONT WE WOULDNT WANT TO SEND YOU BACK TO DREW WHTH A BULLET BETWEEN YOUR BROWS NOW WOULD WE” Chris said laying the gun in between the guys brows

“No no….I promise you’re all good. I’ll never fucking look at yall ever again” he said in fear

“Yeah you better not, and if we ever cross paths again…you better cross to the other side of the street. Cause you just earned a target on your back, and when I’m ready to pop you and your people I'm coming for yous ….cause all my opps is targets, see the red dot no target got it bitch” he said throwing the guy down onto the ground

Chris looked at his security and nodded for him to get rid of the kid, and keep everything on hush. He tucked the pistol into his waistband and grabbed my hand

“Lets go ma” he said walking with me

We got into the car, and I was still so shocked by everything

“Look at you….almost boomed the kids face off for me” he said smirking

“I don’t know what took over me, but I knew I wanted to hurt him to protect you” I said to Chris

“That’s exactly how I feel everytime someone fucks with you” he said leaning in and kissing me

“You’re not going to go after him right?” I asked

“No, but it creates enough fear in his heart that he won’t even fuck with us ever again” he said putting the car in drive, and grabbing my hand to interlock it

“Chris we have to stop this lifestyle” I told him

“And we will baby, I promise you” he said kissing my hand as he drove off

The End

Alright this was part 3, and I may or may not write a part 4 depending on the feedback, but this one was my favorite one to write 💋💋

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #Spotify

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumptober 2023

No. 6 Made to Watch Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria Era Warnings: Attempted SA, blood, injury, violence

“Y/N!” Daryl pushed and kicked at the gate separating him from you. The hinges were giving but not nearly fast enough. The men from the warehouse you were scavenging were merciless in their actions, punches and kicks landing on any part of your body they could meet. The archer was seeing red, screaming in frustration when your assailants stepped away from you, looking quite satisfied with the damage they had caused. 

You reached for the handgun they had forced Daryl to toss over—along with the crossbow and knives— but a boot came down on your hand, forcing a hoarse shout from your throat. Why weren’t they just shooting you both? 

“Daryl.” Your voice was weak and strained, the single whisper sending you into a coughing fit. You curled in on yourself with a groan while the three men whispered among themselves. 

“And he can watch.” A pointed chin was jerked toward the archer. The biggest of the three strutted down toward your feet, facing Daryl and undoing his belt. The hunter’s blood ran cold. 

“Don’ fuckin’ touch ‘er!”

“Oh, I’ll do much more than touch.” A wicked grin exposed rotten teeth before he spit in Daryl’s direction. “And you have a front row seat, friend.”

“Our way of saying ‘thank you’ for bringing us this fine piece.”

Daryl growled and backed up before lunging at the gate. It pushed forward but didn’t give. “Ya let ‘er go. We’ll be on our way an’ never come back ‘round.”

“Is that right?” The third man asked, spitting off to the side. Daryl nodded, remaining still in case any act of trying to break through would cause them to retaliate. His eyes flicked down to you, watching everything around you from your spot on the cold floor. You were still curled up, both arms wrapped around your middle. The three goons looked at one another, seemingly mulling it over. 

Then they began to laugh. 

“Are you crazy, man? You know how hard it is to find good pussy now?” The big man pointed at you. “And I can guarantee that’s some good pussy. She yours?”

“She ain’t property, shithead.” Daryl hissed. His knuckles were turning white from the death grip he held on the chain link. When the man made to turn away, the archer began to climb, going stock still when he heard the loud crack of a gun and ricochet of a bullet hitting the concrete. Wide blue eyes zoned in on the gun now pointed at your head. 

“Get on down, fella.” Daryl did as he was told, hands up the moment his boots hit the ground. “Now, the way I see it is you got three choices. One, you can try that shit again, and we’ll put a bullet in her head and then one in yours. Two, you can stand there and let us have our fun. We may even give her back afterward. Can’t promise she’ll be of any use to you, though.” Daryl was shaking, fists clenched at his sides. “Or three. You can leave. No harm, no foul. But we’ll keep her.”

“Fuck you.” You spat from the ground. The man above you gave you a look that broke into the most malicious expression of intent you’d ever seen. 

“Oh, you will be, sweetheart. Me and my boys, here.” You held your rage in your eyes, never giving an inch before he looked back to Daryl. “What’s it gonna be, man?”

The archer said nothing, but his eyes said everything. Someone was dying there today. 

“Let him play his little game.” The big man scoffed. He made his way to you in three strides, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you up from the floor. “We’ll play ours. If he tries anything, shoot him. Marvin, hold onto her hands.” 

You struggled in the largest man’s grip. Harry, you had learned from the nonsensical conversation they were having while binding your wrists. The one with the gun on Daryl was David. 

“If you want to keep all your teeth, I suggest you don’t try to bite.” Harry warned, not giving you much time to process before his mouth was on yours. He reeked of stale beer and tobacco and tasted worse. Your first instinct was to clamp down on his foul tongue, an instinct that you had to fight. You refused to reciprocate, simply allowing him to kiss you while tears leaked from the corner of your eyes. Daryl would save you. This would be over soon. 

“Ha! He left!” David chortled, just before you felt a tight grip on your ass. Harry pulled his mouth away quickly, and you fought the urge to gag. 

“Wait your turn!” Harry spat, pulling you closer so he could reach over your shoulder and shove the other back. When David continued the shoving match, you were roughly thrown toward Marvin and then pushed to the floor for him to attempt to break up the argument. 

Your entire body ached but that pain was nothing compared to the agony in your chest as your eyes remained frozen on the empty spot where Daryl had been standing. ‘He left me. He…he left me.’ With a sob, you forced yourself to your hands and knees, crawling toward the concealing darkness of the warehouse’s inner walls. 

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” A large hand twisted into your hair and wrenched back your head, forcing you up on your knees to relieve the pressure. 

“Please. Please, just let me go!” You begged. Your hands held tightly to Harry’s wrists while he dragged you back toward the other two men. 

“Oh, honey, there is no way we are—” He fell silent. An engine roared in the distance, the sound becoming louder at an alarming rate. “What the hell?” His grip disappeared, giving you one opportunity. The concrete stung your palms and knees but this time, you made it to a dark area of empty crates and shielded yourself behind one just as the rusted cement truck barreled through the gate. Sparks flew from the exterior when the onslaught of bullets hit, the windshield shattering. 

David didn’t move in time and was crushed beneath the tires. Harry and Marvin continued to fire even after the thing had crashed into the wall, partially breaking through to the outside. Your breathing picked up when Marvin grabbed the door handle and pulled back to find…a walker tied to the steering wheel and a brick on the accelerator. 

“Put that thing down!” Harry hissed at the same time his friend fired into the corpse’s skull. 

While he reached in to switch off the engine, movement caught your eye. Your chin quivered, the whimper that left you impossible to suppress. 

Daryl was picking up his crossbow and knife, flipping the latter in his hand to quickly throw it. Marvin dropped like a dead weight. Harry watched his friend fall from the door of the truck before he spun and looked around wildly. The crossbow was already aimed and Daryl was stalking forward, the weapon trembling. 

“Where is she?!” The bowman roared. 

“I-I-I don’t know! I swear, I lost track of her!” 

A bolt pierced his shoulder. 

“Wrong answer! Where is she?!” Crossbow forgotten, Daryl was pointing your handgun at the man (when had he pick that up?!), nearly on top of him now.

“I lost her!”

A bullet to the leg. You flinched when the gun fired and Harry screamed, the large man who had loomed over you now reduced to writhing on the cold floor. 

Daryl now cast a terrifying shadow over him. “Did ya kill ‘er?”

“No! No, we didn’t touch her!”

“Oh, but ya did.” You hardly recognized your partner’s voice, spitting venom with every syllable. “M’gonna ask one more time.” The gun pressed into Harry’s forehead. “Where. Is. She?”

“Daryl.” 

His head snapped up, eyes searching frantically before landing on you, just beside the crates and still on your hands and knees. Harry had a single moment to appear relieved as Daryl began walking away, but the gun was lifted and a single shot was fired into the man’s head without the archer so much as looking back. 

You reached one hand out for him, releasing a sob the moment his fingers wrapped around it. Daryl kneeled in front of you and pulled you against him, relief evident on his face. 

“Thought I lost ya.” He murmured into your hair. 

“I thought you left me.” You admitted quietly, losing the battle against the tears stinging your eyes. He pulled you back, willing you to look at him. When you managed to, you found those electric blue orbs filled to the brim with unshed tears and so many emotions that you felt suffocated by the intensity of his gaze. 

“Never.” He brought a hand to your face, careful of the bruises and cuts. “M’never leavin’ ya behind. Y’hear me?” You nodded softly and then again with more vigor, letting yourself be pulled back into his arms. 

“I wanna go home, Daryl.” You whispered, your hands fisting into his vest. “Please, take me home.” Adrenaline began ebbing away and you found yourself growing more tired by the second. You barely noticed when he swept you off the floor and began carrying you out. 

“Take ya anywhere ya need, Sunshine.”

#whumptober2023 #no.6 #made to watch #the walking dead #fic #attempted sa #violence #injury #blood #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon the walking dead #murda writes

[ravenna-reid]

I SEE RED

[ Part 3 to Crimson Red ]

TW: swearing and violence and maybe like one suggestive line

I'm beyond glad so many of you like this series!! This one is a lil longer, so I hope ya'll don't mind. Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁

You began to pull your arms away from Jason's waist, but not before his gloved hand quickly enveloped one of yours.

"What are you doing?" His hold was eager, his voice drowning out from the rush of the cars around you.

Rain continued to belt down onto you both, the chill settling deep into your bones.

"I'm gonna need both hands for this! Trust me!" You shouted through the helmet. Jason held onto you a second, hesitant to let go until he focused back onto weaving through the cars with his motorbike.

You and Jason had found out who that sniper was that shot your shoulder and wrecked Jason's apartment. And you both decided to pay him a visit and give him a little gift. Just a mean threat, a few bruises and broken bones here and there. That's all. Actually, you had left half-way to look at the snipers impressive collection of CD's, so you didn't really know what Red Hood did to him. You figured it would have been pretty gruesome given what the man had done to the Hood's apartment, but you didn't realise that Jason was bent on rage due to the fact that the man had shot you.

Now you were both speeding down one of the back streets of Gotham on the back of Red's motorbike. Four cars followed close behind, given the sniper had about a hundred men working for him. Too bad you could only use your abilities on two people at once.

Grabbing onto the grab handle on the back of Jason's seat, you managed to quickly flip around so that your back was against his and you were facing your pursuers. Gripping on tightly with your legs, you prayed you wouldn't fall off the motorbike as you raised your hands.

You could feel every bone. Every vein, organ and muscle. With one hand outstretched, you slowly turned the other. Then, with the slight tilt of your head, you felt the men driving the two cars closest to you struggling for air. Both of the black cars swerved, taking out one another. Two down.

You actually felt that you and Jason had the upper hand. Until you remembered the other cars and saw a man hanging out of one of them, submachine gun in hand. And before you could even raise your hands to snap his fingers, bullets began to rush towards you.

Jason immediately swerved off the road, collecting trash cans and other bits and pieces as he tore down the alley way. Usually, after a while, he'd be able to regain control of his motorbike. But with his mind on you and his arm instinctively reaching to grab you, his motorbike soon began to slide on its side before crashing into a nearby warehouse.

You and Jason sat there a second on the dilapidated motorbike, limbs aching and hearts racing. "Thank the Lord." You let out in a deep breath as you threw your helmet to the ground.

The crash wasn't that bad and you'd both experienced worse. Getting to his feet, Jason looked down at the crushed metal and torn leather and let out a long sigh.

"Fuck, I didn't mean to crash you." Jason continued staring down at it, hands on hips, as you gave him a dramatic pat on the back.

Engines revving and tires screeching. You and Hood both immediately looked down the street as the two cars raced towards you.

"Quick, get in the building." He urged.

You raced in and quickly enveloped yourselves in the darkness and waited. All there was was sound. The click of Jason loading his guns. The sound of yelling and car doors slamming outside. The drip, drip, dripping of a leak in the warehouse. You raised your hands, prepared to fight.

"Do you even know how to fight?" He asked.

You deduced that he must have night vision in his helmet.

"Yes," You hissed. "I did Krav Maga for a few years."

Jason smirked. "Think you could best me?"

"I'd certainly like to try."

The men, with their torches, knives and guns, suddenly stormed the building and your first goal was to wreck the one with the submachine gun. You effortlessly did so and he now lied on the ground writhing in pain. After dealing with a few more men you glanced over at Hood, impressed with his strength and marksman skills. But then it suddenly felt like lead was seeping into your bones and weighing you down.

There were too many men. You desperately tried the best you could. Hiding amongst the shadows and harming two at a time. But they were catching on, some of them starting to realise that you needed both your hands to perform your ability.

You took a strike to the face and doubled over. Red Hood seemed to as well, judging by the sound of his pained yell. Blood stained the cement ground around him as he held onto his ribs, a ghastly gash sitting on his skin beneath his suit. He put up a good fight, but men were kicking at him. One of the men picked up a disregarded crow bar. More were closing in on you.

Fear coursed through your veins like electricity. No, it was more like an itch running through your body. Something you'd never felt before and you couldn't explain. But you weren't about to stop and question it. Instead you closed your eyes and begged that what you were about to do would work.

You elbowed the guy that had one of your arms pinned back before quickly raising them. Slowly, they stopped in their tracks. One by one. Wincing, aching, grunting in pain. Something thick got caught in your throat, and you realised it was too much, but in that moment you didn't care. Your hands trembled as you pushed forward, performing your usual poses. The hold you had over them seemed to have a hold on you too. Because as you forced them all to their knees, you began to sink down to your knees as well.

Jason watched in disbelief and awe. The men were struggling. They were absolutely helpless. Blood began to trickle from their noses and the corner of their mouths. Some were beginning to cry. But you didn't stop until you knew Jason would be safe. Until they were all out cold. And that's exactly what happened.

Pride racked your chest as a dozen men laid before you. Silent and still. You looked over at Jason, a silly smile on your face, before crashing to the floor and hitting it hard.

"Crimson!" Although in pain, Jason made it to you in no time. He quickly pushed the wet hair clinging to your face out of the way. "Hey, you're ok. You're ok." He said, noticing the blood beginning to trickle from your nose. Something wrung his heart like a wet cloth. Hood took the leather jacket from his shoulder and threw it over you. "It's ok, you're going to be fine Crimson."

He continued gripping at you, urging you to respond. But you couldn't talk, your throat burning, so instead you went with a nod. Slowly, his figure became a haze, then a sudden blur of red and grey before

everything

went

black.

You'd woken up the next day tucked into your bed. Silk doona pulled up to your chin. Two glasses of water, headache medication and chicken soup sat on your bedside table. Your fingers raised to brush against the mask that was still on your face. He didn't removed the mask. Your playful smirk soon ended up turning into a genuine smile.

"Thanks Red."

Days went by, and once you were well enough to be out and about again, Jason was ecstatic. He explained everything to you. How he ended up calling back up, how said back up helped him with the men and looking after you.

"Don't worry, afterwards I carried you home myself." He said, assuring you that your location was kept a secret, and a small flutter began in your stomach.

You asked who he had called, but he only replied with a smart ass comment about how your Krav Maga failed you. You rolled your eyes and went about your mission, and Jason smiled beneath his helmet. He couldn't believe what you had done. How you had pushed pass limits and achieved something you didn't know you could. How you had taken those men out simply with a few simple hand movements. You were a prodigy in his eyes. And he was just happy you were ok.

One particularly late night, you sat on your bed after patrol and stared out your bedroom window, letting the moon bathe you in its light before beginning your bed time routine. Neon lights were streaming on the building across from your apartment block. Cars raced on the road down below. The stars were trying hard to be seen, but that was impossible with all the light pollution in Gotham. Your mind continued wandering as you sat there, that was until you heard a squeak from one of the windows in the lounge.

"Hey Red." You said before he even entered your bedroom.

"Hey." He said, setting his helmet down onto your desk.

Jason stood awkwardly at your door, something he'd been doing a lot lately, as he watched you lean down to untie your shoes. Pausing what you were doing, you looked over at him with furrowed brows. He watched as your hair, and that red lace, fell over your shoulder.

"You can come sit down Red."

Jason nodded, cleared his throat, then hesitantly walked over to your bed. Then he sunk into your crimson bedding and took in the warmth of your room. The scent that enveloped it.

Once you finished untying your shoes, you moved closer to Jason and suddenly all the air had been snatched from his lungs. If he had no shame, or if he could actually function, he probably would have asked if you were using your abilities on him.

"Checking on me again?" You asked. It had been the third time this week.

"Maybe." He admitted looking down with a smirk.

"I'm fine now Red, I promise."

You placed your hand on top of his and immediately, he looked up at you. Did you realise what you were doing? Was this simply a friendly gesture? That glint in your eyes said otherwise, and it had him swallowing hard. Shit, could you ever really be his?

You were leaning closer, slowly, surely. Your hand running along his abdomen where the knife cut from that night probably left a scar. Chills ran down his spine, and although he didn't realise it, he was leaning in too. Admiration was evident in Jason's eyes as you stared back, a soft and loving smile adorning your face. Different from your usual smile. A smile he'd never seen before. A smile only he could earn.

"Jason..." You whispered, and shit how he loved how you whispered his name. It was like a whole drum set was now banging and bashing inside of Jason's chest. He raised his hand, warm fingers brushing your cheek before slightly slipping under your mask.

"May I?" He asked reluctantly.

You nodded. "Mmhm."

He pulled your mask off, and once he saw you he had to take a second. He took in every little feature and came to the conclusion he already knew. You were breathtaking. But maybe it was the trust you were showing him that was really making the brutal, sarcastic Red Hood so lovesick.

"Fuck, this is what you've been hiding from me?"

You gave a breathy laugh, your cheeks becoming tinted with pink. Jason leant closer, his breath fanning your skin. Hand tightening around your own, your leg now brushing against his. Until he paused.

"Can I kiss you?"

The fact that he asked made you melt.

You smiled again. "Mmhm."

And suddenly, his lips were on yours. Gentle and tender, almost as though he wasn't sure if this was what you really wanted. After a few seconds of bliss, his doubt got the better of him and he pulled back. But when you crept forward and your hand clutched at his collar to pull him deeper into the kiss, well, then he was all in. Hand gripping your waist whilst the other went to your hair. You felt giddy. Safe. Content.

And as the sounds around you drowned out and the kiss slowly progressed, his lips began to trace your skin....

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood imagine #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #fluff #red hood angst #jason todd angst #angst #dca fandom #dc universe #dc comics #dcu

[apocalypseornaw]

Don't Blame Me (Pt 5/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

A rescue and a second chance

Warnings: cursing, mention of violence

It was a strange feeling, regaining consciousness. You hadn't been knocked out since you were a human and considering you had several years under your belt since then, re-adjusting to it was strange.

The ache in your shoulder told you that bullet you'd been clipped with was a devil's trap one. You strained your neck down to look at the straps holding you to the table and recognize the language,Enochian. Fuck you were screwed.

You heard footsteps getting closer and knew better than to attempt to pretend to still be out. Instead you decided on the false bravado act, you'd perfected it your first hundred years or so on the racks “Why is it you fella always feel the need to strip a gal down? While I do appreciate that you left the bra and panties that was a limited edition Led Zeppelin shirt. If you fucked it up I'm gonna be pissed” 

The laugh that hit your ears made the skin on the back of your neck crawl. How fucked do you have to be to make a demon get the ick? “I heard you had that mouth on you. I see why Winchester and Crowley like you”

The demon finally came into view. He was wearing a skin head as a meat suit. Dude even had a certain nazi symbol tattooed on his ball head. No wonder he set off your creep radar “Don't know if you got your signals crossed but hello? Demon. Dean doesn't exactly want me anymore as for Crowley I come in handy to have around but at the end of the day I'm just his pet hunter nothing more”

You saw the knife when he picked it up and nearly asked him if he had forgotten you were a demon too until you saw the holy water vial. You  struggled against the straps but that sent a jolt of pain through you so you were stuck watching as he first wet the knife with the holy water then dumped salt along the blade. He sent you a smile right before he slammed the knife into your leg closest to him.

You didn't give him the pleasure of a scream. You did however bite into your cheek hard enough you caught the taste of blood on your tongue. He didn't seem put off by your refusal to scream, no he seemed to enjoy it. 

“Tsk tsk tsk. Don't underestimate yourself Y/N. You've been Crowley's right hand woman for years. You fast tracked your way off the racks and even managed to get your original body back. Even the big guy was impressed with that” your breathing was a little haggard from the effort to keep your voice steady as you said “Oh poor Luci. Stuck in the cage and seeing a hunter get pulled out of hell. Must have sucked for him”

That seemed to strike a nerve because the next thing he did was retrieve the holy water vial. He kept his eyes on yours as he uncapped the vial then twisted the knife in your leg before pouring the holy water into the wound.

It felt like flames were gnawing through your bone and the scream that escaped your lips echoed off the walls. A grin split his face “Attagirl. Let's see if we can make ya scream like that some more” “I spent three hundred years on the racks. Bring it asshole” You spoke through gritted teeth. He shook his head and walked over to a table in the corner of the room “Careful what you ask for”

 

“What are we looking at here Crowley?” It was the first time Dean had spoken since they got to where you were being held. “Dozen or so demons. Lucifer's last two remaining hellhounds” 

“Hellhounds?” Sam asked about the time a puff of air alerted them to a presence at Crowley's side. He reached out and patted what looked like air to them but they knew it was a hellhound “Don't worry boys. If they're between this one and Y/N they don't stand a chance”

Dean hated hellhounds. Death by them would do that to you but this once he let his eyes linger on the empty space where Crowley's hand rested “You take care of the other hounds we'll get the rest” a low growl was the response he got and Crowley nodded “I think she agrees with the plan”

He looked back at Sam “No one gets to smoke out. They were dead the moment they touched her” Sam nodded, gripping an angel blade in his hand “Let's go get her”

You could feel tears drying on your face. Flashbacks of your first couple decades on the racks ran through your head. You had to hand it to Skinhead, he was creative. 

He placed one of the tools back down on the table, it was slick with your blood. “What's the point of taking me? The point of torturing me?” 

He grinned again “Crowley will come for you. The Winchesters will come for you. We kill them and get the big guy out with no one guarding hell” you shook your head “No they won't. I'm nothing to Crowley, just another flunkie and as for the Winchesters you fucking idiot I'M A DEMON. THEY KILL DEMONS!” 

You groaned with pain from the effort of yelling at this idiot. Lucifer sure knew how to pick em didn't he? 

Your head fell back against the bed with a heavy thud. Skinhead went to grab another toy but the sound of a howl echoed through the building, you knew that howl anywhere. Juliette.

He looked back at you “How the hell did you get a hound?” You grinned despite the blood you knew stained your mouth “Just lucky I guess” 

He grabbed an angel blade off the table and looked back at you “You'll be dead before she ever reaches you” your eyes widened looking at the blade but then another sound caught your ears, the sounds of fighting. You could hear a  shout about the Winchesters. He'd come for you, black eyes and all he'd come.

You cut your eyes up at skinhead “Doesn't matter cause Dean will rip you apart” he raised the blade and went to plunge it into your heart.

—-------

Lucifer's hounds were dead, along with most of the demons. Dean was fighting one when it went down to the floor, a spray of blood separating its head from its shoulders then he felt a large head nudging at him. It was eerie being that close to a hellhound but then a thought occurred to him. 

He looked towards the feeling of the head despite not seeing anything besides dark blood dripping to the floor. He wanted to ask if the hound was hurt considering you had a bond with her but he couldn't exactly see and Crowley was with Sam disposing of the rest of the demons. 

“Did you find her?” a low growl responded so he nodded “Lead the damn way” He felt teeth grab his jacket sleeve and despite it all let himself be led further into the warehouse before the teeth were gone from his sleeve and all he saw was large bloody footprints leading away. She was running to you.

—-------

You braced yourself for a blow that never came, instead the demon was knocked flat on his back with Juliette on top of him. “JULIETTE!” You screamed. She was covered in deep gashes and looked like she'd been through a literal war but she was doing her best to keep him from getting up.

You lost track of the fight considering they'd rolled further than your straps would let you see but you could hear her growls. You struggled against the straps, tears streaming down your face from the pain. 

The moment the door burst open and Dean was there you heard a low whine and the fighting stopped. “Kill him” You whispered and Dean snatched the demon to his feet and slammed the demon blade into his throat before turning back to where you were tied down.

“She's dead isn't she?” He nodded before covering the space between you. He quickly untied you and pulled his flannel off to wrap around your shoulders. “You came for me?” You asked a mixture of pain and emotion threatening to drown you. His eyes flicked across your face looking for permission and when you sagged against his chest he pulled you into his arms “Even in death sweetheart”

You finally broke, demon or not you sobbed into his chest as he held you. “I still love you” you admitted and he kissed the top of your head “I still love you too. Nothing could change that”

—--------

Crowley and Sam burst in the door and looked around. Crowley's eyes landed on Juliette’s body “That's unfortunate” you sniffled harder laying your head back over on Dean's chest “Get me out of here Dean”

You sat at one of the tables in the library of Sam and Dean's bunker. It was technically a men of letters bunker that their grandfather had given them the key to, with them you didn't question the fact that their grandfather had been dead as long as he had.

Crowley had given the ok for you to go with them after he lifted the warding the witches had put on you. You'd been sitting for the last half an hour listening as Sam explained the fact that they'd found a cure, you had a chance to be human again. The bad part? It had a chance of killing you. 

Dean's arm was around your shoulders, your head against his chest. He hadn't spoken but every time Sam mentioned the risks his muscles tensed. Once Sam was through you nodded “When can you get the blood?” 

Dean's arm slipped from around you and he walked out the room. Sam looked from his retreating back to you “Do you want to think it over a little more?” You shook your head “My life, my risk. Go get the blood. I'll talk to him” he nodded and started to walk out but stopped then walked over to pull you out of your chair and into a hug “It's good to have you back” 

You smiled up at him “After this works i'll be back fully then” he pressed a kiss to your forehead “I'll be back soon”

—---------

You walked softly down the hall towards the room where Dean had showed you was his. You started to knock on the door but just walked in instead. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and glanced up when you walked in “It could kill you” “It's my life to risk. Dean I love you but a Winchester with a demon? That'll never work. I need to be me again fully. I want your support but if we really want another chance these?” You let your eyes slip then added “They gotta go”

He nodded then held out his hand to pull you closer. You were standing between his legs and he had his hands resting on your thighs “I need to tell you something” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips “I think I know”

He looked up into your eyes and damn he had tears in his. “They didn't mean anything. I just missed you so damn much” you nodded, feeling your own eyes tear up before admitting “I wasn't exactly a nun Dean” he flinched slightly “As long as it wasn't Crowley I'm good sweetheart” You laughed and shook your head “No Crowley” 

He pulled you forward causing you to have to climb into his lap to keep from losing your balance. He moved back further in the bed then looked up at you “You don't know how amazing it is to have you in my arms. I don't mean to be an ass about this cure but I've lost you once and it nearly killed me” you rested your head over in the bend of his neck and placed a kiss on his pulse “Then be with me for the cure. Hold me. If it goes south at least we get a goodbye this time”

 

The armory of the bunker had been cleared out. There was a devil's trap painted on the floor and Sam had made a decent looking pallet of blankets. When you questioned it he'd shrugged “It takes hours and you've got to be in it the whole time” 

You nodded then smiled “Thanks Sam” you looked back at Dean who grabbed your hand “C'mon sweetheart..I'm with you”

—-------

Dean was scared. He had just gotten you back and now he was holding you in his arms while you were washed down in sweat, your entire body shivering with every breath you took.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him from where you lay in his lap “I'm ok Dean. I'm ok” he smiled despite the thoughts in his head “I know sweetheart. I know”

—---------

“Last shot” Sam announced, injecting you with the final vial. You inhaled sharply, curling into Dean. “Fuck it hurts” you whined and he rubbed your back soothingly “Just breathe baby. Breathe”

You weren't sure if hours or minutes passed before the shivering and pain stopped. You slowly looked up at Dean who pushed your sweat soaked hair back from your face. “How are you feeling?” “Tired” you whispered and he nodded to Sam “Give me the vial”

Sam held out the holy water and Dean looked to you for permission. You held out your wrist, bracing for pain but this time there was no burning or pain. The holy water was just wet. 

“It worked” you breathed before laying heavily on Dean “Will you help me shower then take a nap with me?” He laughed lightly “I'll do anything you want me to”

You were laying in bed, curled up against Dean's chest. It'd taken you a day or two to convince him you were healed up from the cure but when you finally did it was like no time had passed. You'd stayed wrapped up in each other for hours, relearning every inch of every curve of each other's body. 

“How the hell did I get this lucky?” Dean asked and you smiled sleepily up at him “Someone somewhere must like you Winchester”

He caught your lips in a kiss before pulling away. “Come back” you whined but he laughed as he reached into the table next to his bed. When he turned back you saw he had something in his hand. He uncurled his fingers so you could see the silver ring sitting in the palm of his hand “Can this go back where it belongs?” 

“I can't believe you still have that” you whispered in shock before holding up your left hand “Please” he slipped it onto you then kissed your finger “I love you” “I love you”

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you over on top of him. You straddled his hips and smiled at him “You don't know how much I've missed you” you leaned down to kiss him but before your lips could touch Sam knocked on the door and hollered “Can you two come to the library?” 

You looked back at the door then down at Dean “He still has shit timing doesn't he?” He laughed then flipped the two of you over so he was on top of you “Don't worry. We'll see what he wants then come back to bed”

You walked into the library with Dean's arm around your waist. Sam sat at the table with a large wooden crate right in front of him.

You raised an eyebrow “What ya got Sammy?” He motioned “It's yours” Dean walked closer to it with you and you saw an envelope with your name. You picked it up and it simply read “So it turns out you weren't the only one to get another shot. Figured she belongs with you” 

You looked at Dean who'd read the note with you. He shrugged then walked to the crate. He cautiously pried the top off then looked in and a laugh fell out of him “C'mere baby” you walked over and looked in. A German Shepard puppy sat inside and the moment you popped your head in she sat up and barked, you cut your eyes at Dean who shrugged before looking at the puppy “Juliette?”

She barked again and you couldn't help but laugh as he leaned over and picked her up then held her out to you “Looks like she found her way back to you” You took her in your arms then he slipped his arms around you both, scratching Juliette’s head.

“I found my way back to you so stranger has happened” Dean placed a kiss on your cheek “We're together that's what matters, even if we now have a puppy” Juliette barked again and he laughed “Yeah yeah yeah. I hear ya” 

@starkleila @lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dont blame me mini series

[juuuulez]

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #negan smith x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith #the walking dead

[writingwarden]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Male!Reader

TW- Being stabbed, blood, canon typical violence

Word Count- 1.2k

Prompt- "Can someone make the ground stop moving?"

Warden Writing Masterlist💚

[CALLSIGN- HYPNO]

[A/N- Need more Gaz/Male Readers fr]

“Pushing into the office now.” You shout into your mic, hands numb from the cold air of winter and the constant shaking of your rifle as enemy after enemy fell in your path. 

The warehouse finally clear of hostiles as you rush up the metal stairs to the top floor. Adrenaline courses through you and the rusted metal door slams open under the force of your shoulder. Two men turn to you with their guns raised but you’re faster. You’re moving before the bodies hit the ground. Kicking the door shut behind you to hopefully buy yourself some time.

The 141 had been tracking this part of a terrorist cell for months after a series of arsons and murders that were too similar to ignore. This was it. There is chatter over the comms as you flip through manilla folders. The words between Price and Gaz don’t register as you shove everything that looks of importance into your backpack. The computer screen flashes in the corner of your vision. The laptop and its intel were the target.

The computer sat on the metal table surrounded by folders and scattered maps now splattered with blood.

You turn and hunch over the computer to begin your work. Attaching the flash drive as you start to scour through enemy files. Anxiety grips you as numbers and names fill the screen. Targets, dates, weapons manifests, it was all here. In the back of your mind you scold the enemy for making such important information so easily accessible. Your team would smoke you if you had ever left something like this so carelessly in the open. 

Footsteps thunder across the floor below your position. The files were nowhere close to being finished, you would have to hold this position until they were. This was information that you could not afford to lose. 

Down to your last mag and you would need that for your escape to the evac. You let loose an annoyed groan and raise your hand to the radio on your vest. “Hypno to Bravo-Six, I’m cornered in the office, gonna need some backup.” 

There is a moment of silence before Price’s voice crackles through, “We can’t son, they’ve got us bogged down near the trucks.” Shit. 

Grabbing the laptop off the table and sitting it carefully on the ground; you crouch behind the table and prop the rifle on top. Taking in a deep breath as the door bursts open. Three men rush in, carelessly firing off shots in your direction. When you squeeze the trigger the first man goes down smoothly, falling into the one behind him. 

This gives you just enough time to fire at the fumbling enemy soldier, the second man falls just as the first. Blood coating the concrete floor. 

The third man’s bullets pelt the table and ground around you. Curling into yourself as the bullets fly so close you feel the heat on your skin. One successfully grazing your upper arm as you attempt to fire again. 

Sending up every curse in your mind as your gun jams. Moving quickly to unsheath the knives on your belt as the barrage of bullets stops and you hear the click of an empty gun. Not letting him get the time to reload you jump the table and send a knife flying. The man screams, dropping his gun and reaching for the knife now lodged in between his shoulder and throat.

As you watch in disbelief the man rips the blade from his skin, not hesitating to charge at you. Swinging upwards to block his swing, knocking his arm down and away from your face. But the man doesn’t give up. He instead stabs downwards. Your own knife now embedded in your thigh as the one in your hand sinks into the man's chest.

The man slumps forward, forcing the knife further into his chest. A wheezing sound punched from his chest. Blood trickles down coating your glove as you push him back. The body hits the ground with a heavy thunk, dragging the knife in your leg downwards. The knife tears through the skin as it clatters on the concrete. 

Ignoring the tingling sensation and heat quickly spreading through your leg, a pop up on the computer's screen draws your attention. A text message? No, A full conversation was being typed out before your eyes.

BREACH- They’re SAS.

BREACH- What do you want us to do?

The most recent message is what sends you into motion. Grabbing the now complete flash drive and shoving it into your front pocket. Slinging your bag over your shoulders and sprinting out the door, jumping over the dead. 

ATLAS- Burn it down.

Blood pumping in your ears as you run. The wooden crates that had provided you cover were now burning. Flames spread to everything as you rush across the warehouse floor. Smoke threatens to choke you as you reach the loading dock doors. 

Jumping off the platform results in your legs giving from under you and you slide across the icy asphalt. You can’t stop here, scrambling to your unsteady feet you stumble forward. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you run for the trees. Branches tug at your clothes and snow seeps into your boots. 

Shouldering through the brush reveals the team standing surrounded by dead soldiers. Blood staining the clean white snow. Your sudden appearance has them raising their guns at you before recognition sets in. 

“Bloody hell Hypno.” Price says, stepping in your direction. 

You shuffle forward, the blood covering you growing cold while heat continues to spread down your leg. A look crosses the two men's faces as you get closer. 

“Where’s that blood coming from?” Gaz’s eyes frantically comb over your form. The pair stands in front of you, why were they blurry?

Your vision swims as you turn to face Price, ignoring Gaz’s question. “Captain, they're… Oh shit can someone make the ground stop moving.” Your knees buckle and then your face is slamming into the hard snow. A searing pain shoots from your leg through your body on impact. 

Despite the freezing temperatures there's sweat on your brow. Hands are on you then you're facing the sky, a panicked looking Gaz pressing his hands to the bleeding wound. His mouth is moving but the words don’t reach your ears. 

Lifting your gloved hand to his arm makes him look at you, then your eyes close.

… … … … … … … 

“Doctor is saying that it barely missed your femoral artery.” Gaz sits beside your hospital bed. His hands are wrapped around your own as he places a kiss on your palm. 

You had woken up in a haze, bright lights blinding you before you realized where you were. According to Gaz you had only been out for around seven hours after arriving back at base. The trucks had been set ablaze so your team had to be airlifted out of there. 

Other than the stab wound you had several bruises and were borderline hypothermic. 

You smile at him, “Yeah well, you should have seen the other guy.” Gaz lightly smacks your chest, clearly not amused with your joke. 

“Remind me why I’m dating your dumbass.” He says with a straight face, trying not to smile. 

“Because of my handsome face.” you reply with an equally straight face but can’t help it and a wide grin splits across your face. Gaz looks away and shakes his head but you can see the corners of his mouth upturned. He turns back to you and leans in, placing a quick kiss on your lips. 

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

[A/N- Sorry if this seems off, trying to push through a very tough writer's block. Feedback and Reblogs are always encouraged!]

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz garrick #gaz x male reader #male reader #x male reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #captain john price #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty fanfic #writers block is kicking my ass

[wannab-urs]

Congrats on 1.5k! So deserved!! 🖤

To celebrate, I'd love a drabble. Any Pedro boy will do!

Keep rocking & being awesome, gorgeous! 🖤😘

Thank you so so so much <3 I hope you like this ahhhh

Save a Horse... Or Whatever

Pairing: Jack "Agent Whiskey" Daniels x Reader

Summary: Whiskey got hurt on a mission and he comes into your lab to get patched up.

Warnings: Jack Daniels being allowed to speak, medical shit that is completely bullshitted, one mention of blood, some talk of like digging around in a wound, etc, Whiskey calls you Soda pop and Sugar. Technically you're Agent Soda. Brief descriptions of oral m!receiving. No use of y/n, reader isn't gendered (I don't think?) WC: 900

A/N: I kind of think I'll turn this into a full one shot at some point? This is unbeta'd sorry!

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You really did not expect to end up with Agent Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today. Maybe you’d thought about it before, maybe hoped the opportunity would present itself at some point, but certainly not today. 

–-

He left your field office this morning for what was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, shoot the fuckers, take the briefcase, call in the clean up crew. Simple, easy, something he’d done a hundred times. But somehow it got fucked up six ways from Sunday and he ended up limping his sorry ass into your lab, carrying the brief case but also dragging his left leg. 

“Howdy, Soda Pop. Reckon you could fix up my leg?” He flashes you his trademark sideways smile and a wink, before his face crumples and his legs nearly give out from under him. 

“Fuck, Whiskey! What in the hell happened to you?” You run over to help him, grabbing his thick arm and heaving him onto your examination table. 

“Let’s just say I did not receive a Kentucky welcome.” 

“Clearly. Can you take your jeans off, or am I gonna have to cut you out?” Whiskey smirks at you again and you brace yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Well now, Soda Pop, thought you’d at least take me out to dinner before you tried to get in my pants. Think I can manage to get naked for ya though, sugar.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Whiskey you’re literally bleeding out,” you chastise him as he pulls off his belt. He winces as he shucks his blood stained jeans down his thighs, panting a little with the effort.

You try desperately not to show how much it turns you on. The guy you’ve harbored a bit of a crush on for years stripping down right in front of you… Who could blame you, honestly?

“Fuck! Soda, I’m too weak to whip a gnat. You’re gonna have to pull ‘em the rest of the way.” He collapses back on the table, jeans sitting not even half way down his thighs. 

You huff an annoyed breath and roll your eyes. “Shoulda just let me cut them off, idiot.” You pull off his ridiculous designer cowboy boots and yank his jeans the rest of the way down. You head over to your storage cabinet and grab some alcohol wipes, a pair of forceps, and a Beta Gel shot. 

Stepping between his parted legs, you clean his wound with the wipes as carefully as you can. His breath hitches in what you assume is pain and he digs his nails into his palms. “Alright, Whiskey, I gotta dig the bullet fragments out now. I can give you a pain shot, but your leg will be numb for the rest of the day. Up to you.” 

He props himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Don’t need a shot, sugar. I can handle it.” 

You raise a very skeptical eyebrow, but grab the forceps anyway. As you start the process of removing metal fragments from his leg, Whiskey sucks in a breath and his head falls back between his shoulder blades. You initially think it’s from pain. “Sure you can handle it, cowboy?” 

“Oh yeah, baby doll. I can handle it.” You eye him suspiciously, before trailing your eyes back down to where you’re working on his leg. Something catches your attention though. 

“Jack Daniels,” you say sternly. “Are you fucking getting off on this?” His cock is half hard in his boxer briefs. 

“And what if I was? Pretty girl, fixin’ me up, touchin’ me all over…” He trails off. 

“That why you became an Agent, Whiskey? You got a pain kink?” You resume pulling the pieces of the bullet out of his leg, nearly done now anyway. 

“Just ignore it, sugar. It’ll go away,” his voice is raspy, rough as if he’d been yelling and so low you feel it in your gut. You pull the last bit of the bullet out, grab the beta gel shot, and stab it into his thigh. 

His cock jumps in his underwear and he falls flat back on the table, letting out a slight whimper. 

“And what if I don’t want it to go away, Whiskey?” You don’t move from between his thighs. In fact, you step in closer, trail your hands up the outsides of his thighs and press your thumbs in. 

His head perks up at that and he meets your eyes, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Well then, Soda pop… How’d you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” 

“That’s a terrible line, Whiskey. I really hope you don’t use that often.” 

“Only once or twice, sugar.” You roll your eyes, but hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs anyway. You pull them down and his cock springs out, hitting his belly with a thwack. “Jesus, Jack, how do you walk around with that thing?” 

“Bowlegged,” he deadpans. You snort a laugh and take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his obscene girth. You dip your head and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip and sliding down as far as you can in one smooth motion. 

–-

And that is how you ended up with Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today.  Next time you’re aiming to end up in his bed. 

#gins1500sleepover #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels fics #Jack Daniels fanfiction #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey fics #Agent Whiskey fanfiction #Agent Whiskey x reader #Agent Whiskey x you #Kingsman #Kingsman: The Golden Circle #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[ourautumn86]

That cliffhanger at the end of part two of new blood is definitely a gut wrenching one for sure. Will there be a part three? Hoping Ellie and the Reader can get away from Abby and the others and that Abby won't kill her sister. Your writing is so good.

new blood pt3

ellie williams x fem! reader

summary; abby finally finds you. measures have to be taken. paths will part ways. people will be left behind…

cw for this chapter; blood, weapons, chains, hostages, fighting, broken bones, threatening, mentions of abuse and imagery (abusive parent), angst angst angst!!!

You grunted due at the new punch that crushed your cheek and made your mouth fill up with warm blood. You spat and coughed, staining ellie’s shirt. You were as you had been found, naked legs trembling and bruising against the harsh cold floor.

You scoffed, a broken smirk showing on your face.

“Does it feel better? Does hurting me make it feel better? Gives you peace?”

“Shut up!” you groaned at the new kick on your stomach. “Where is he?” Abby inquired, and you smirked.

“You’re just like him, aren’t you?”

She gripped your hair. “Where. Is. He?”

“I don’t know.” you said, once again, like you had answered the last 20 times she has asked you.

“You’re lying.” she said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe. Are you gonna beat the words out of me? Like your father did?”

“He was your father too. How can you be helping the man that killed him?!”

“He was not my father!” you screamed, and she fell silent. “He destroyed me. Look at me.” her eyes where nowhere near you, avoiding your scars, the scars that her father branded on your skin. “Abigail! Look. At. Me.” you ordered, and smiled when she finally looked at you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you inquired, tugging at your restrains as you looked at your arms. “You know I almost died for this one?” you said, your eyes on the large gash on your forearm, which went through your skin and cut your veins. “He left me on the floor to die like some dog. I almost bled out. Thank god he hadn’t given me water for days and my blood was too dry or else I wouldn’t have made it.” you laughed, a broken laughter that made Abby’s arms grow on goosebumps. “And now look at you…” your eyes met her blue ones. “You’re doing the same exact thing. Just like two peas in a pot…”

“Shut the fuck up!” she yelled at you.

“Or what?” you inquired. “Or what?!” you repeated. Her friends were silently looking to the two of you, guarding the doors. Better not get into family discussions. They knew how Abby could get when pissed off. “You’re gonna kill me?” you teased her when she pushed off her belt her gun, pointing it at your head. “Go ahead. Follow his steps. Pull the trigger.“ you encouraged her, dragging your knees and crawling until the gun was fully pressed against your forehead. “Finish what your father started. Pull the trigger. Kill your sister.” she didn’t move. “Pull the fucking trigger Abigail!” a bullet broke the air, just like it did your skin. Your cheek flooded in crimson form the cut the bullet had left behind. It had graced you.

She looked into your eyes. And without a word stepped away. You laughed.

“You’re gonna leave me here?” you scoffed as you watched her go towards the door. “Gonna run away from me, Abigail?” you screamed, and she stopped, not facing you as she opened the door. “You need to stop running from the truth. The truth about your father being a fucking drunk, and the fact that he wasn’t a good man, Abby.” she stood there, silent, but still moved and closed the door behind her, leaving you in the darkness, like she had done before.

-

The floor was not comfortable, that’s for sure, but you’d grown used to it. You were the one who took the beatings and grew up sleeping on rags. You looked like your mother, or that’s what your father always told you before he’d beat the shit out of you. You didn’t know why. Why he hated her so much. Maybe cause she died and left him all along? Had the love he’s had for her made him bitter?

After years… You truly never thought about it anymore, although you’d catch yourself looking at your reflection and wondering what was that thing that made the two of you so alike. Was it your nose? Your hair? Your smile?

You groaned when you felt a pair of hands on you. “Fuck off Nora. I already told you everything I know…”

“Shhh…” the chains around your hands fell, and you opened your eyes to meet those emerald ones you’d found yourself growing attached to.

“Ellie…?” your voice came out as a whimper, your eyes feeling warm with tears.

“I’m here.” she whispered, holding you tightly to her chest when your hands reached out for her, nails digging on her clothes as you clung onto her. “I’m here baby, I’m here…” you sobbed against her lips as she kissed you, tears pricking your eyes. her hands cupped your cheeks, her guts burning at the sight of your beaten up pretty face and bloody appearance. She was gonna kill then all. “I’m gonna take you out of here.” she promised pecking your lips and you nodded, groaning when she shifted your body so she could take you in between her arms. Your whole body ache and burned. And she was sure you were running a fever. “I know baby, I know…” there were tears falling down your cheeks. You were sure you had a few broken ribs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” she was so careful holding you, touching you… It was something you’ve never experienced before. It was breaking your heart.

“Where’s Abby?” you questioned, your arms surrounding her neck.

“Joel’s taking care of her.” your body froze and next thing Ellie knew is that you were fighting her hold to free yourself. “Woah, woah. What are you doing?”

“I need to see her…” you groaned when your feet touched the ground, your whole body shaking in pain. “Abby!” you called out for her, staggering as you walked.

She tried to stop you, but you followed Joel’s voice the best you could, creaking the door open to find Abby down on her knees, a deep cut gushing from her forehead.

“Stop.” you ordered when you saw him pointing his gun at her. Joel’s eyes shifted towards you as you fell down on your knees in front of your sister, shielding her with your body.

“Move out of the way, y/n.” Joel said, not moving, and Ellie took out her gun to point it at Joel.

“Joel put the gun down.” she said, and her heart cracked when he looked at her.

Tommy pointed the gun at Ellie. “Ellie. Don’t.” he said, and her hands shook.

“Please.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting her after all that she has done to you?” Joel inquired you, his shoulders tense, his aim on point.

“She’s my sister.” you simply answered, ignoring the way Abby looked at you. The way they all looked at you. “She’s the only family I have left.” “If you want her dead you’ll have to kill me first.”

Joel looked at you. They had the rest pinned to the ground or unconscious. They must have caught them off ward. Abby was smart and sharp, she must have been fast enough to fight. But not strong enough.

“y/n…” she called out for you, and you hissed.

“Shut up.” you said. “Joel… Let them go. This is your chance to change what you did all those years ago… You don’t need more blood on your hands.”

“They’d only come back after us.” he muttered, the gun pointing straight in between your eyes as she cocked it.

“Joel.” Ellie pleaded.

“I need to do this, Ellie. To keep you safe. To keep all of us safe.”

“They won’t. They will leave and never come back. You’ll never hear from them again.” you promised.

“And how do you know that?” your chest rose with a deep breath.

“Because I’ll go with them. You’ll never see us again. I’ll take them as far as I can and leave all of you alone.” you promised.

“No, y/n, you can’t...” you ignored Ellie’s hurt voice, her green emerald eyes. Because you knew that if you didn’t you’d never be able to leave. Everyone was looking at you. Sad eyes and clenched fists.

“I promise.” you repeated, looking into his eyes. It seemed like years have passed until he finally lowered his gun. And you could breath again.

“Get out of here.” he said and you nodded.

“Thank you.” you groaned as you pulled Abby up on her feet, swinging one of her arms over your shoulders as she was too dizzy to walk by herself. You tried really hard to hide your tears. You looked at Ellie, who was already looking at you, begging, pleading for you to not go.

“y/n…” she took your hand, holding onto you. You were freezing cold.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered as you let go of her touch. It was killing you. You looked away. “It’s for the best.”

And maybe it was. But what you’d never forget was the way your heart broke for leaving the person that made you feel loved for the first time in your life behind.

-

a/n; this was short but it was needed! hope y’all liked it! <3

#ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams x f! reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams imagine #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou fic #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou2 #tlou x reader

[brokenanxiety]

jealous quinn?🤭

being brock boeser's friend and next door neighbor has it's perks. you were always invited to home games and always invited to post game celebrations. you first met quinn after a friday practice when you were waiting for brock so you guys could go home together. quinn noticed immediately how beautiful you were and you couldn't lie that you didn't immediately blush as he was looking you up and down. the cute canucks captain checking you out? a girl wasn't gonna complain. you knew that he was off limits though, he was brock's teammate. "hi, im quinn," he said nervously. "y/n." you blushed. "im brock's friend and next door neighbor." quinn knew that you were out of reach for now but he was committed to changing that.

the season is officially off to a great start with a win under their belt at their home opener. this obviously meant that you were 'obligated' to go out with the team for celebratory drinks. you logically went with brock and fully intend to be his DD. sober quinn knew that you and brock were only friends but buzzed quinn didn't. especially when you are leaning against him at the bar and he has hands on your hips and you are laughing at everything that comes out of his mouth. quinn tries to take his eyes off of you but it's hard because to him, you are the most beautiful girl in the room. what sends him over the edge is seeing you turn to brock to fix his hair, whisper something in his ear, and give him a kiss on the cheek. quinn marches over to everyone at the bar and says to brock "can i steal her away for a little?" all his teammates are whistling and you can hear faint whispers of 'get it quinn' and 'finally'.

as quinn walks you outside, you can't help but think how nice his hand feels in yours or how handsome he looks in the glow of the ugly streetlights. "y/n, is something going on between you and brock?" "quinn you know that there's nothing going on," you reply. "then why did you whisper in his ear and then kiss him on the cheek?" quinn was searching your face for any sort of answer but your face gave nothing away. "oh quinn...he was laughing at me because i couldn't shut up about you all night." "oh," was his only response. "he told me i should just bite the bullet and tell you how i feel. i whispered 'i really like quinn and i hope you won't be mad if we end up dating' to him." "what about the kiss on the cheek?" "quinn, you know me and brock do that all the time right?" "yeah but this time it felt different," he looked defeated. "quinn i was about to walk over and confess right before you stormed over and dragged me outside silly." "so, so you really do like me?" "yes, from the moment we met. now shut up and kiss me."

#quinn hughes #answered #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #rebecca's neurons are firing