#barb wire dolls in this moment

[cryptcatz]

i need more woman-fronted metal/punk bands. y’all got any recs

speaking of, here’s a playlist with a bunch i do know!

#i know many already such as /deep breath/ #otep Kittie l7 the gits amyl and the sniffers Jack off Jill #bikini kill skating polly babes in toyland #the coathangers #die mannequin #luficer the distillers deap vally #straight line stitch #the twistettes butcher babies #otoboke beaver #barb wire dolls in this moment #crystal fairy yeah yeah yeahs #Death Valley girls hands off gretel thundermother #arch enemy walls of Jericho #king woman #there’s more but just. I Always Need More #personal

[turtlecleric]

Wooooo self-indulgence yayyyyy

bay!raph x fem reader, angst and hurt/comfort, cw: implied past sexual assault, panic attack, dissociation, trigger words, if I need to add more warnings please do let me know (sorry to the people on the tag list, as always feel free to ignore)

---

When Raph pulls you into his room, presses your back against the door, and buries his face in your neck, you can't help but giggle like a fucking teenager. You feel his hot breath against your skin as he speaks, and it makes you shiver, makes your smile widen so much your cheeks hurt.

“Been waitin’ all day to getcha to myself, doll.”

The earnest excitement in his voice makes you melt. Large hands trail up and down your sides, massaging and kneading, and then his lips find yours. You sigh into his kiss, slow and sweet like honey. The barest glide of his tongue across yours, the low rumble in his chest that manages to vibrate your mouth just a bit. It's driving you a little crazy, to be honest. You can't get over the fact that he can get you this worked up just from kissing.

Too soon, he pulls his mouth away and goes back to nuzzling into your neck. His hands tighten on your waist before one comes up to cup your breast over your shirt. You two have only gotten past kissing a couple of times before, so it pulls a loud, surprised squeak out of you.

Raph's other hand comes up quickly to cover your mouth, and your smile slips away as your eyes widen and your heart stutters in your chest. He murmurs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, but the chill it sends through you this time isn't a good one.

“Shhh, you gotta keep quiet, baby girl. We're-”

No.

His next words are lost on you. There's a roaring static in your mind as sick panic takes over. It blurs your vision, distorts what you're hearing. You can't focus. You can't breathe. You can't move.

You're not there. Raph isn't him. Don't- don't slip back there, don't- no no no no-

Someone is standing over you. You're dizzy. Silent. As still as a statue. You feel their hand lift from your mouth, but you don't react.

Keep quiet. Keep quiet. Keep quiet.

You're aware of your heartbeat jackrabbiting against your ribs. You're aware that the person is talking to you again. You're aware of the barbed wire that's wrapping around your lungs and tightening. Tightening.

Keep quiet.

---

When Raph lifts his head to look at you, he freezes.

Something is… very, very wrong.

Your eyes are glossy, the faraway look causing alarm bells to blare in his head. You're not even blinking. Silent tears start to track down your face, and when he realizes how tense you are under his touch, he pulls away immediately. Raph says your name, tentative and quiet, and when you don't react, that's when he really truly starts to panic.

He says your name again, a little louder. You don't respond. Again. His hand hovers in the air between you, unsure and confused and fuck, what happened? What did he do? What does he do?

Carefully, he tries to take your limp hand in his. The moment he makes contact with your skin, you whimper and jolt back against the door in a full-body flinch. He yanks his hand back and watches in horror as you start to visibly tremble. The sight actually makes him nauseous, has him backing away from you and trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible.

What happened?

Are you… are you actually scared of him? The thought lodges his heart in his throat. Has his chest aching with something like betrayal, but no that… doesn't actually make sense?

“I'm not gonna hurtcha, sweetheart. You know that right?”

You don't respond. God, what has he done?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You probably didn't want him to touch you like that. He went too far too quickly. You- you probably want him to go and are too scared to say- but he's stuck! You're blocking the door! He can't- he doesn't want to move you so he can leave, but he doesn't want to keep scaring you, but he- but, but no, it still doesn't make sense. If you were actually scared of him, you wouldn't have been- this whole time with- what the fuck is going on?

He's stuck. Well and truly stuck. He can't talk to you, he can't touch you, he can't give you any more space than he already is. He's terrified, terrified, of making things worse.

So he waits.

---

Awareness returns to you slowly, and control returns even slower. It burns when you blink. Your muscles ache, exhaustion weighing you down like chains. It's harder than it should be to raise your hand and wipe at your eyes, to keep yourself standing upright.

You realize all at once what happened, and the mortification of it happening in front of Raphael has you covering your face in hot shame.

Wait. Raph. Where..?

You lift your head from your hands to look around the room. When you spot him, your heart clenches painfully in your chest. He's sitting in the furthest corner of the room, hunched in on himself, his arms circled around his knees and his head ducked low.

Making himself small.

You swallow, trying to shake away the fog in your brain enough to go to him. Your legs feel like jelly, but you manage it without falling. When you kneel and place a hand on his arm, his head jerks up in surprise, and you see that he's been… crying.

He's talking before you can open your mouth, each word a knife between your ribs, each break in his voice taking the knife and twisting.

“I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know that I'm- I guess I just thought- I'm sorry. I went too far, I didn't- I shoulda- I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry-”

“Hey,” you croak, wincing when he flinches at your wrecked voice. “No, Raphie. No. That was… not your fault, okay? It's a me problem. I should've told you- uh. There's just certain things that can…” You sigh, not yet thinking clearly enough to have this conversation.

You mentally kick yourself. You should've told him before it ever became an issue, but. When people find out, they… look at you differently. You wanted to hold onto that normalcy a little longer. Put it off just a little more. But the look in his eyes - confusion, fear, regret - it hurts to see. Hurts to know that this could've been avoided if you'd sucked it up and warned him, told him the things that set you off from the beginning.

You're too tired to think straight. Still shaking. But you know he deserves an explanation.

“Can we… can we just…” Brain fog. Hell man. Focus, come on. Your hand on his arm tightens. “I'm not scared of you. I love you. I love you so, so much. It's not that you- I mean I- I promise I'm going to explain, but right now I…” The tears threaten to spill over again, and the frustration tangles in your chest like so much fishing line. You're fucking this up, you know you are. You really need to sleep. To get to a point where your brain can actually do its job. Are you even making any sense? Is he going to get fed up with you and- no, stop. Stop it. Raph is still staring at you, waiting, waiting. You try again. “I just need some time. Then I can explain. Okay?”

Raph's lips thin, his brows pinching together as he watches your face. He looks like he's in agony as he does so, but he unfurls a bit. Slowly, carefully, he reaches his hand toward your face. It stops just before he makes contact, and the hesitancy, the worry that radiates off of him, compels you to lean forward and press your cheek into his palm. Your tiny smile seems to bolster him, and after a moment he speaks.

“Whatever you need. Anything, okay? Anything.”

You close your eyes, raising a hand to press against the back of his hand cradling your face. He's so… tender. It makes the tears spill over again, makes something snap in your chest like a rubber band pulled too far. Your body flashes hot with embarrassment as you dissolve into ugly, keening sobs, but when you lean toward Raphael he's quick to wrap you in a gentle embrace.

He holds you close, letting you weep into his plastron and hold onto him tightly. He doesn't move a muscle, doesn't shush you, doesn't say anything at all. It's unusual for him, but then you realize. He's still terrified of doing whatever it was that set you off again. The thought has you surging up to wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets you. You try to tell him you love him again. It comes out barely intelligible, but he understands you anyway.

“I love you, too,” he whispers. After a long moment, he continues. “No matter what, okay?”

Your throat feels like it's stuck in a vice. Like you couldn't possibly push past it to speak. Somehow, you do. “Okay.”

---

Tag list: @yorshie @luckycharms1701 @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @thelaundrybitch @mxalmighty

#turtlecleric scrolls #bay!raph #tw: sa

[lauriegraham01]

i'll never smile again

pairings: 40s!bucky barnes x reader, nurse!reader

summary: with you and bucky away to fight in the war, you both can't wait to come back home and begin the rest of your lives together. what's left of your plans when a mission goes sideway? could you and bucky have been born so unlucky?

w/c: 1,423

c/w: takes place in CATFA, ANGST, major character death, themes of grief

a/n: this has taken me the longest to edit, not sure if im completely satisfied with the ending but it's enough. hope u enjoy, lmk if you like :)

Time of death: 14:37

You hang your head low in defeat, the death of another soldier baring on your soul. There truly was only so much that you could do. He had come in completely mutilated from barbed wire and eyes blinded form tear gas. With limited options, you and your team of fellow nurses ensured that he could be comfortable for his passing. One of the other nurses raises the white sheet to cover his face, and you gather yourself to move on to the next patient.

You had joined the army nurse corps a little over a year ago. There was news that we were loosing soldiers faster than we could kill enemies and you decided to join the war effort, believing you could do some good for your country. Nothing prepared you for the horrors you faced daily, the chaos and death that surrounded your every breath.

However you weren't alone in your pain. Your two best friends, Steve and Bucky had too joined the war. They along with the rest of the Howling Commandos were going on missions targeting Hydra bases. There was only so much they could tell you, but the little they did still left you uneasy. It just seemed so dangerous and you worried about the both of them- especially Bucky.

Bucky and you had only been dating for two years when news of the U.S. joining the war broke out. Yet after a lifetime of friendship you felt like he knew you better than anyone else in this world. You two had agreed that when the war was over, you would finally get married. These days it was your future plans with Bucky that gave you the strength to survive the war. That, along with the letters that he sent. Writing in detail about what missions he and Steve were on and how things were looking on his side of the war.

The rest of the day had passed by in a haze. By the time you returned to the nurses quarter on base, you feel the full weight of the day in the way that your back aches. Upon looking in the mirror you wince at the amount of blood that's caked into your face and hands. A shower lifts your spirits as you feel the stress from the day drain along with the water. Stepping back into the sleeping barracks, you squeeze past the crowd of nurses until you reached your cot. As you tuck your uniform away you see a letter placed on the pillow. Lifting it up with curiosity, you flip the envelope and a smile tugs at your lips.

Bucky.

You tear open the letter eagerly, it had only been a week since you had last heard from him but it felt like eternity waiting between letters. Unfolding the pages within your hand you read each line carefully, hearing his voice with each word, imagining as though he were reading it to you. As he told you about his latest mission, fear threatened to creep its way into your heart. Yet as you got to the last page, you inhaled a sharp breath- the world around you seeming to go quiet in that moment.

“Doll, I’ve done enough thinking, and I know what I want. I’ve loved you for a lifetime. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know that there's no one else for me but you, y/n. I wish I could ask this in person but I cannot go another day without you knowing how much you mean to me. When the war is over we’ll get married and I’ll grow flowers like you, and your womb will carry the most beautiful girl in the universe. Make me the happiest man alive - will you marry me?”

You fell backwards onto your bed and closed your eyes, Bucky's words burned into your mind. Tears began to well up at your eyes as your heart soared at Bucky's proposal. Bucky wanted to build a life with you. You began to imagine your wedding day. The familiar faces that would gather to celebrate your love, what it would be like to become the mother to his children, and to be able to grow old with him. As you thought about this, you couldn't contain your excitement anymore. Hastily rising from bed, you make your way to the center of the room before grabbing the attention of your fellow nurses.

"I'm getting married!" You shouted, all the nurses turned to look at you before ensuing in cheerful screams. They all congratulated you and gave you and Bucky well wishes for the future.

As you and the nurses were still caught in the excitement of the news, you were suddenly interrupted when a knock rang on the barracks front door.

As everyone scurried to stand in formation, you felt relieved when you saw that it was Steve and Peggy who had walked through the door.

"Officer y/n, would you please come with us for just a moment?" Peggy speaks up.

Stepping out of formation, you grab your coat as you follow behind the two, stepping out in the cold winter air.

"Steve!"

"Angel." He coos as he brings you in for a hug. It had been about 8 months since you'd last seen him. While you were happy to see him, you were slightly taken aback to see him here.

"What on earth are you two doing here?" You breath out as you go to pull away from his embrace. When Steve's grip on you suddenly tightens, you're slightly confused. Looking up at Peggy and seeing the solemn look on her face you know that something was wrong.

“Steve?”

"I'll give you two a minute." Peggy excuses herself, making her way toward the field to give us some privacy.

“Steve, hey, hey, what's going on?" As he finally lets you go you look up into his eyes to see that they were glossy with tears threatening to spill over.

“Hey,” you hook a finger underneath his chin fixing his gaze from the ground onto you, "talk to me. I'm here, what's wrong?"

“It’s Bucky, he’s… he’s gone.”

A dreadful weight settles deep in the pit of your stomach as Steve looks at you in a way he's never before. So full of regret and heartache. You search his face for any type of deceit, any indication that what he said had been a terrible lie and that Bucky was alright- but to your avail you could find none.

Steve went on about the mission leading up to Bucky's final moments but it fell on deaf ears as your mind was anything but tethered to this reality.

"No, no." You mumble underneath your breath as you stumble backwards a bit.

"Woah-hey," Steve grabs a hold onto you, steadying your grounding. "I'm so sorry y/n."

“He can’t be gone," your voice comes out strained in a high pitch, "he just can’t be.” Your vision blurred as the crushing weight of reality settled within your head and within your heart.

Bucky was gone- for real this time. There was no rescuing him, there was no saving him.

You felt Steve wrap his arms around you as you buried your head into his chest. That seemed to be the tipping edge as before you knew it a sob began to wrack out of your lips. You cried for all the plans you've made. For the memories and time now stolen from you.

"We were supposed to get married." You manage to choke out between ragged breaths.

"I know, angel," he said softly. "I know."

When you returned to the barracks, it was lights out and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up from this terrible nightmare. You found it cruel how the last time you were within these walls you were an engaged woman, and now you return a widow. Memories of Bucky plagued your every thought as your own grief made you restless, sleep evading you.

Bucky and you had shared a lifetime of memories. Growing into the versions of yourselves that both of you had come to love. Now they'll forever be a hole left where the rest of the story should have been written. When you return home, you'll return a widow. You'll never be able to hold him, to touch him, to marry him, have a family with him-

"I'll never love again", you thought to yourself. "There's no getting over you."

#40s bucky #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #40s bucky x reader

[thewritersaddictions]

Requests: The Wanderers: Negan- Blend In

Pairing: Negan Smith x Shy!FemReader

Pov: Readers /Negans

Summary: When Negan saves the reader from a horrible fact he invites her to stay only to have his kingdom come crashing down around him.

Warnings: (Rape is elude to), Negan saving someone, Season 7-8 Negan, Season 7-8 spoliers of the walking dead, fluff, angst, non-con, walkers (Zombies) No Use of Y/n, farewell notes, prince charming vibes, knight charming armor vibes.

A/n- @ Firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 1.7k

The Walking Dead Master List // Requests Master List // The Wanderers Master

I had been going just fine all by myself. Sure I had a mother and father at one point. At the start of this hell I had my mother, and father sadly I watched as they both were attacked and pinned down under the snarling weight of flesh hungry zombies. I ran, I ran so far and for so long that I don’t know how I made it. I just kept running, my breath burning my lungs as I desperately inhaled, and exhalled. 

I guess I should worry about the few zombies currently pushing me into the corner of the wooden forest that surrounds us. I shouldn’t have left the little shelter I had made for myself, I shouldn’t have gone out when hte moon was high in the sky, and the night skys made the deep wooden forest darker then ever before. This is where nightmares and monsters hid and waited for their prey. 

I had excepted the worst to have happened, I waited on batted breath for the gnawing feeling of the blunt teeth. Waiting for it to tear into my flesh.I think I was ready to die, I wasn’t okay with dying in the dark forest, becoming one of those things. I didn’t dare scream as the horde cornered me, but I did scream when that horde was slashed down. Blood and guts smearing trees, and bushes all around me. When I finally managed to catch not only my breath, but my heartbeat I was struck with a man standing in front of me. 

A handsome tall, dark man. Wielding a barbed-wire baseball bat dripping with blood. A cocky grin upon his face that gave me an odd set of shivers down my spine. Dark hair that shimmered in the moons light, tingles of gray spreading through it. Ripped jeans that fit his legs a little too tight, and that black leather jacket. He was the upptimeny of bad boy, the ones your parents warn out about, the ones that parents of little girls tells them to ignore and stay away from. The only accents on his very black outfits was that red bandana around his neck. For a quick moment my mind conjured up what he must have been before the world fell into hell. 

Maybe he was on a motorcycle, maybe he was apart of a gang. I sawllow at the thought, and then remember he just saved my fucking life, so maybe lets leave the opions and judgyness in the middle of the woods. “Well you were almost toasted doll.” His voice is thick, and rich like dark chocolate. He reached his leather gloved hand out for me to grab, I closed me gaping mouth and took his hand helping me up from the dirty, blood covered ground. 

“What has you out in the middle of the woods?” The man asks me, I think that maybe I shouldn’t tell him about the little shelter, really it’s a cabin that I had taken for myself. But that one thought to pushed to the edge of my thoughts when I look up at him. He’s got such a authority in his face, and even in his voice it booms when he’s just talking. “I’ve got a cabin not to far from here, I just wanted to go searching for some stuff.” I answer him, he hums. “How about you show me this cabin of yours.” It’s not a question it’s a demand, and from what I’ve already seen I don’t want to end up at the end of that barbed-wire baseball bat. 

He must see my eye flicker to his baseball bat. “Her names Lucille, she doesn’t bite. I nod, “It’s this way.” I say timdily. The bat swong over his large shoulder, and we walked in step with each other until the cabin was in view. “It’s just you?” He asks intriguend at something, that I’m not catching yet. “Yeah, well… Just been me for a while now.” My thoughts get distracted by images of my parents dead on the ground. I shake the thoughts away, and climb the stairs. “Home sweet home.” I hear the man say from behind me. 

There’s nothing much here, it’s dark. Candles that are at the end of their lives.  I can see the man behind me taking in the new area he stands in. “It’s homey.” The man says, I nod. The silence isn’t the difficult to deal with, rather it’s the way the man makes no effort to move around or look about the little cabin. It’s as if he’s thinking, mapping out his next move and it scares me just a little. The blood fromt he tip of the bat is dripping into a small puddle on the floor. “You should come back with me to my sanctuary.” He offers, yet again I sense that it’s not an offer, but a demand. “I should grab my stuff then.” That’s all I can say before venturing towards the back room to grab loose cloths, books, and anything else that I had been able to keep or find during my lonely time out here. 

The walk is long, and it’s rather quiet, listening for the growls of walkers. He takes me in, I get a room all to myself. The sanctuary is filled with all types of people who all have jobs. The older man tells me later on that his name is Negan. He boasts out a smile when his name leaves my lips. He smiles, and it makes me weak to my knees. 

In just the few weeks I have come to a great conclusion. One is that Negan is the most handsome man I’d ever met, and it’s not like I’ve never talked to men before, or had boyfriends in school. It’s just what I was afraid of, afraid of falling for someone I have no clue what they are. I had fallen for the beast of the man. His confidence stride, and his boastful, booming voice as it rang across the walls of the sanctuary. 

The second thing I realized, with a sadden heart was that no man would want me. No man would want what he could get in the other much prettier women. The wives, Negan’s pretty, gorgeous wives. I stood up to them with no par. I was nothing in comparison to the beauties that were bestowed upon them. The heels that clicked, the long legs, and prefect bodies in every part of myself I knew that I was nothing like them. So I declared it. Negan would never take a seconds glance at me, because I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t anyone’s type. I was just me, and it wasn’t enough. 

–

With Negan gone, the sanctuary is running into the ground. People aren’t keeping in line, and the ones who are keeping in lines are fucked by the others. Military punishment is dished out almost everyday. Collective punishment. Simons is running us into the ground, and our fight with Alexndria isn’t helping. I pray, I pray to gods that probably no longer exist to please just bring home Negan. Set the record straight and push us in a new clean direction. And everyday my prayers are ignored, Negan hasn’t come back and I highly doubt he ever will. I lean towards the idea that’s he been caught, captured and used rather then walking around in that leather jacket, and black boots as a walker. It’s a better image, it’s a truly better thought. 

The man are hovering over me, Simon is hovering over me like I’m fresh meat on a table. Just prey for them to devour. Simon has the cockiest grin on his face, the tears the cling my warm cheeks. They had taken me, in the middle of my sleep dragged me away from my plush and warm bed, to Negan’s quarters. Raw, and dirty skin touching mine, makes my skin crawl. I try desperately to get out of my head, to drown out the noise of men talking over each other, try desperately to push myself so far and so deep into my head that I can nearly just forget that I am here. 

That is ripped away from me, the ability to do so, is stripped down to the bare bones when the booms and crashing voice of Negan comes clambering through the halls. I wonder why I manage to be to the only one who can here it, why do all the nasty men above me just ignore it. I wonder for a brief moment if I’m leaving this horrid place ladning in a much better one. I heaven perhaps, but then realize that the voice that is booming is just right outside the door. I’ve never seen the rage displayed on Negans face as to when he opens the door. My clothes are ripped and torn to shreds on the ground leading up the side ofthe bed. Utter shame is what hits me whne our eyes locks and it’s all I feel as Negan drags Simon out of the room by the back of his neck. 

– 

My knuckles are blood, and brusied by the time Simon lays dead on the ground. It’s a huge warning upon everyone else. I want to scream and shot, but there’s nothing more important then her right. My heart hammers into my chest, and ears as I race through the corridors to get back to my room. The door is left wide open for all to see, but there’s something missing. She’s missing, Her clothes are still littering the floor with the aftermath of what had just taken place. 

A letter, rushed and scrambled on a pre-used paper. 

“Listen Negan, I know that you’re probably never going to read this. I just can’t imagine you dead for a second time. I should have never come here. I shoudn’t have gotten in the way of you and your wives. I’m sorry that I’ve made this huge mess. This is my farewell letter Negan, please don’t lose everything you have, just for me. Goodbye.” 

My eyes burn with tears, and anger beginnings to boil at the pit of my stomach. With the last of my energy I grab a few of my things, stuff them deep into a black bag, and Lucille. I put someone without an ego in charge, and leave off for her.

Completed on: 09/27/23

Posted on: 09/28/23

The Wanderers:

#negan smith #negan fanfiction #negan twd #negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan x you #negan x reader #fluff #fem reader #female reader #requests are open #open requests #requests open #twd #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fic #the walking dead negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith smut #negan smith fanfiction #negan smith twd #the request #taking requests #requested #request #reqs open #requests #negan smith requests

[walker-bait-1973]

We Ain't Dead Part One

Photo Edit By Me

A Daryl Dixon X Reader (she/her) Fanfiction

18+

Warnings: Usual TWD Violence, Death, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn, Fluff

Author's Notes: This takes place starting in season 1 (The Greene Farm) and then goes off on its own timeline. I also admit it starts slow. I have to get through a few chapters to get it really going. Please be kind as this was the first TWD fanfiction I'd written. I also had it originally with my own OC, but I changed it up to be more fun for the reader. Hopefully, I caught all the name changes. Enjoy!

Master List

Chapter 1: Sophia

Daryl was out searching for clues on Sophia, deep in the surrounding woods by the Greene Farm while everyone else was wrapped up in the drama surrounding another child. He didn’t want to be around that shit. The little girl’s mother, Carol, was worried sick. Daryl wanted to help this poor woman. She’d had a rough life with her abusive husband before he got bitten and had to be put down. He could relate to the abuse as his past was saturated with it.

He had taken one of the farmer’s horses and went further than the rest of his group. He saw something floating in the water by the area that Sophia had hidden from the Walkers in. He slid off the horse and down the rocky hill to it. It was her doll. He triumphantly tucked it into his belt and went to return to the horse, but the horse spooked and galloped off, leaving him to fight several walkers that had been attracted by the horse’s whinnying. 

He took out two, but slipped on the mud, landing in the water. One had pinned him down, nearly drowning him. He couldn’t reach his trusty crossbow, and his knife fell out of his hand. Suddenly, an arrow cleared the air, catching the walker straight through the skull. It dropped, and Daryl threw it off. He sat up, spitting out filthy water, looking around for the bowman. A twig snapped. He was feeling around in the murky water, searching desperately for his crossbow. He saw a figure passing through a line of trees.

“Hey!” he yelled out. The figure stopped. He squinted, half-blinded in the late afternoon sunlight. The bowman made his way down the rocky ledge, bow on his back. His booted foot pushed into little niches, fingers gripping ridges. He was wearing a black newsboy cap.

When the hunter got closer, Daryl realized it wasn't a man, but a woman. She offered him a hand out of the water, and the thick muck around his feet. He took her hand reluctantly, and she helped him out. He shook out his hair and checked over his crossbow. The woman dropped her pack, pulled out a dry cloth, and handed it to him. He wiped his face.

“You from the farm?” he asked. Her eyes flickered.

“No.”

“Where’d ya come from?” he asked.

“Just passing through,” she answered, “saw the dead ones. Then I saw you.”

He handed her the arrow from the walker’s head. She took it and returned it to her quill.

“You seen a little girl? About this tall?” he indicated with his hand.

She shook her head, “No one until now.”

He saw the collection of dead rabbits hooked to her belt. He pointed with his chin.

“Nice haul.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked, reaching for one.

“Naw,” he put up his hand, “Stayin’ on that farm back there.”

She looked past him in the direction of Greene’s farm.

“You know ‘em?” he asked. She shook her head, "I've just seen the name on the mailbox. Follow me,” she said. He hesitated. Even though she’d helped him, it didn't mean she was safe. She turned back around, “Did you lose a horse?”

He nodded.

“Follow me then.” She led him into a clearing where she had the horse tied to a sapling. It was surrounded by a thin line of barbed wire. He looked around as she wound back the wire onto a thick stick. She proceeded to untether the horse. She rubbed its muzzle and led it to Daryl.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. She nodded, taking a moment to give the man a once over. He wasn’t very tall but looked tough. He was covered head to toe in filth and dripping like a drowned rat. A permanent scowl on his face, his eyebrows knitted together over a pair of deep-set blue eyes. From the cuts on his arms, and the tears in his muscle t-shirt, he’d seen better days. His hair was short and plastered flat with mud.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he stroked the horse. He checked it over for any injuries.

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Daryl.”

“That horse is a scaredy cat, Daryl. She jumps over a twig snap.”

“Damn horse,” he grunted. Y/N shouldered her pack, pulled an apple out of her duster pocket, and fed it to the horse.

“You said you’re looking for a girl?” she asked. He nodded. woman’s eyes searched Daryl’s eyes, but he averted them. He bobbed his head.

“Brown hair, shorts, name of Sophia.”

Sybil petted the horse one more time before saying, “I hope you find her.”

She grabbed her bow, put it across her back, and gave a slight wave goodbye.

Daryl nodded in her direction and watched her disappear into the woods.

Chapter 2: Keep Moving

The Greene farm became overrun with Walkers after hearing gunshots from that direction. Many people died that night, bitten, and devoured. Flames shot up into a mushroom cloud from the dry hay, and animals ran amok. Y/N ran towards the fire, keenly aware that there were people living on that farm. She arrived just in time to see the last vehicle take off, a motorcycle. Hearing blood-curdling screams she saw a woman pinned down by a small horde of dead ones. She loaded her bow, “find peace,” she whispered before shooting her clear through the skull. She died, yet the dead ones continued to feast on her shredded body.

Y/N began to head back to the woods when she had the chance. She heard the whinny of a horse. She rushed toward the cries and saw its reins were tangled in some low branches. She quickly untangled it, Slid up and over, fitting her feet in the stirrups, and guided it through the woods away from the horde. She hit the open road, coaxing the horse into a full gallop, heading in the direction the survivors drove off in. When she arrived at where the group had met up in the wake of the disaster, they were already gone again. 

She studied tire tracks, and discovered someone was leaking oil; it was still warm and wet. Once again, she encouraged the horse in the direction she was sure they were going. When she found them, she hung back, dismounting the horse and taking it into a treeline to observe the group. There were about fifteen people, one of which was in late pregnancy, and a young boy. She watched through her binoculars and listened to the conversation. She decided she wasn’t going to approach them just yet as they were all jumpy and roadworn. She made camp, deciding against fire so as not to attract any attention to herself. When she woke in the morning, the group was gone again. She walked along with the horse on their trail but lost them at the crossroads. 

Chapter 3: Followed

For months, the group was going from house to house, scavenging, running from walkers, and getting worn out from fear and lack of sleep. Everyone was looking to Rick for directions. When they were finally on their last can of food, which was a can of dog food, Rick threw it across the room angrily.

“There has to be something around here. Some place where we can hole up. Behind walls.”

Three days later, they found the prison.

Y/N gradually picked up their trail again and saw the state of each house they’d stayed in. She headed toward the prison, and finally, found them inside the big fences, fighting the dead.

Smart, she thought, realizing they were going to make a go of living at the prison.  She set up camp not far from there, waiting indecisively.

In the bright sunny morning, Y/N took a ride into the nearest town. It was deserted, and she only had to take out a few dead ones. She went into the first store she came upon, a department store. Rummaging through the different departments, she stopped in the clothing area and grabbed a few t-shirts and flannel shirts. She exchanged old ones out of her pack to make room for the new ones. She headed to the camping equipment. It was nearly empty, things tore off shelves. But she managed to find some rope, some fishing line, and some hooks. She pushed them into her pack. As she was exiting, she heard a vehicle approaching. It was the motorcycle, and she recognized Daryl. She rushed out to get to the horse, but he was already off his bike, holding her in the bead of the site on his crossbow.

“Where’d you get that horse?” he called out. She stepped from the shadows.

“From the farm.”

“You,” he said, lowering the crossbow slightly. She nodded, keeping her hands away from her body.

“You followin’ us?”

She figured honesty was the best policy, “Yes.” 

“Why?” he demanded.

“I heard the shots, saw the dead ones. I came to the farm, but you all were gone.”

“What are you doin’ hangin’ around now?” he asked suspiciously.

“I was gathering supplies, and I was going to offer my help at the prison.”

He frowned, “You found the prison?”

She nodded, “Kinda hard to miss.”

“Who are you with?”

“I’m alone. I’ve been pretty much alone. Since the beginning.”

He lowered the crossbow more but remained on high alert.

“All alone out here…” he repeated. She nodded. He grunted.

“I can help you get supplies.” She offered.

“Naw,” he shook his head, “I can handle it.”

She shrugged, “suit yourself.”

She climbed onto the horse and headed out. Daryl watched until she was out of sight. He proceeded to search all the stores and houses. He piled stuff into his pack and headed back to the prison. While he drove, he scanned for signs of Y/N. 

Chapter 4: Better Than Out There

The group of survivors worked hard to clean out the prison. It was overrun with Walkers. Each day they’d get a little further inside until they secured a cell block and moved in from the fields they’d taken. It was dark, dank, and grungy, but they were safe. Now the real work was to begin.

Baby Judith was born and lost her mother during labor. She desperately needed formula. Daryl was back out there again, searching. He made his way to a nearby town. There he found Y/N fighting a group of dead ones. He watched for a moment. She’d kicked one away, another away, and took two down at once with one knife in each hand. Her boot slammed down on the head of a fallen walker, then the other. He was impressed even more so when she popped up and shot her bow at the last Walker heading her way. He saw one coming up behind her and shot it with his crossbow. She spun around to see the walker on the ground. He stood there tight-lipped, his crossbow at his side. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“You still around?” he asked.

She nodded.

“We have a baby now,” he said looking about. She was still alone. He’d been keeping an eye on her, tracking her as well.

“There’s a daycare center,” she pointed up the road. She showed Daryl the way. She tapped on the window while he held his knives ready. Walkers came to and dragged their rotten hands across the glass, leaving grimy streaks.

Sybil opened the door enough to let one out. He stabbed it easily enough and waited for the next one. They continued this way until there were no more. She opened the door fully now, and went inside with him, her bow in her hands. They cleared room by room, searching every nook and cranny. Y/N’s eyes scanned the walls. Colorful handprints with children’s names littered one area. She continued along the wall. There was a bulletin board covered with pictures of the children. 

She began looking underneath a changing table finding diapers of all different sizes, tossed them into a plastic garbage bag along with wipes, and baby powder. She returned to the hallway, lifting her bow at foreign noises. She glanced down the hallway, where the sound came from. Daryl had his crossbow up, pointing it in her direction. They both lowered them, meeting halfway.

“Diapers,” she said, holding up the bag.

“Formula,” he replied, dumping the containers into the bag along with some bottles. One more sweep. Y/N grabbed blankets, and Daryl a stuffed teddy bear. When they got outside, she held out the bag to him. He took it.

“Come on,” he said with a jerk of his chin.

“To the prison?” she asked. 

He nodded. She shook her head.

“What’s your problem, woman? Better than out here,” he said, sliding onto his bike.  She looked around. He had a point.

“You comin’?” he asked. She nodded, putting her foot in the stirrup to mount the horse again.

"Ain't your ass sore from that damned beast?" he eyed the horse warily. The truth was she was tired of riding in general. Her ass was always bouncing and she was sore everywhere.

"Sort of…" she remarked, self-consciously rubbing her ass.

He jerked his head in his direction, "c'mon then. Let's go! Jesus, you're slow." She directed the horse up beside the bike and reached down with an open hand.

“The bag.”

He tossed it to her. The bike pulled away, and she followed, the horse running fast, staying close behind. When they got to the prison gates, Carl and Carol were standing there, waiting to open it.

“Who’s that?” Carl asked. Carol shrugged, squinting her eyes.

“I don’t know, but she’s with Daryl, so we let her in.”

The horse followed Daryl up the drive, through a second gate. He turned off the engine. She tethered the horse to one of the chain-link fences near the grass to graze. Rick sprinted out of the prison, gun at the ready. Daryl put up a hand.

“She’s with me.”

Rick lowered it, returning the gun to its holster.

“We’re a little protective around here,” Hershel said from the doorway, “I’m Hershel,” he held out his hand to shake hers.

“You should be protective,” she held out the bag, placing it in his hand, “for the baby.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, handing it to Beth, the young blonde teenager.

“I’m Y/N,” she said finally.

“Rick,” Rick said, tapping his chest. He held an air of authority. Round blue eyes, pale skin, and wavy brown hair. 

Beth introduced herself as well.

“That looks like one of my horses,” Hershel noted.

“It is.” She answered, “it was running wild in the woods.”

“Are you hungry?” Hershel asked, “we can offer you something to eat.”

Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to impose. Rick continued to look her over suspiciously.

“Come on,” Daryl said, “get some grub. Y’all look like you ain’t eaten in days.”

She followed him into the prison.

Rick exchanged looks with Hershel, who raised his eyebrows.

Y/N looked around curiously as they entered cell block C. Glenn and Maggie stood up.

“Who’s this?”

“Name’s Y/N. She helped me get stuff for Little Ass Kicker,” Daryl stated. Maggie mixed up a bottle of formula. Daryl took it from her and held the baby. As she started to drink, Daryl smiled, “There you go, little Ass Kicker.”

Beth handed her a bowl of macaroni.

“Thank you,” Y/N said, sitting down. She slurped it up quickly, “I probably should get goin’.” She walked along the dark hallway, and outside. As she mounted the horse, Daryl rushed out of the prison.

“Hey,” he said, “You leavin?”

She nodded, “not enough room.”

“There’s a whole damn cell block.” He remarked, grabbing the reins.

“I don’t belong… here.” She looked around.

“Don’t be stupid, ya don’t belong out there.”

She looked over her shoulder, toward the gate. The walkers were thick along the chain link. She was tired of running and fighting. She could use a little reprieve.

After much consideration, “You win. I’ll stay the night.”

When they went back in, Maggie came forward, introduced herself, and with a friendly smile thanked her for the baby stuff. As Y/N nodded, Maggie said, “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

She followed Maggie into the cell block.

“The last three down here are open, and all the ones on the top except one.”

Y/N went up the stairs looked in each cell, and settled on one. Maggie handed her a pillow and a blanket.

“It’s not much, but we’re trying to make this place habitable.”

She smiled at her, “Thank you.”

Maggie nodded, “if you need anything, please let me know.”

Y/N tinkered around in her cell, making up the bed the best she could, fluffing the pillow, and sliding out of her boots. She sat on the bed and stretched her tired feet.

“She’s quite the talker,” Hershel jokes.

“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing,” Rick remarked.

Glenn laid Judith on his bunk while she slept, “do you think she’s safe? We don’t know anything about her.”

“If Daryl vouches for her, she’s okay with me,” Rick answered truthfully.

“Me too,” Hershel added.

Y/N came back down from upstairs.

 "We are so grateful for your help," Hershel repeated everyone's sentiments, "do you have any injuries that you need to have looked at? I've been elected as the house doctor. I'm really a veterinarian, but I do both."

"He saved my boy from dying. Got shot. Right near his heart," Rick remarked.

She looked at Rick with a surprise, "That's Carl, right?" she asked. He nodded.

"That's a miracle," she said, happy to hear something good for a change.

Rick nodded, "it is."

"How's your wife doing?" She asked looking from Rick to Hershel and back. Rick lowered his head, his eyes cast downward.

"She didn't survive the birth," he whispered before clearing his throat, "excuse me." He walked away.

"I'm sorry…" Y/N called after him, "Wow, I haven’t been here twenty-four hours and I've already insulted the man in charge."

"How do you know so much about us?" Glenn asked curiously. She blushed.

"I've been watching you guys a bit, trying to decide if I should fully introduce myself or not."

Hershel rubbed his stubbled chin, "so you are what Daryl was tracking day after day while we were on the road."

Sybil’s lips parted, "he was tracking me? While I was tracking you?"

Hershel pursed his lips nodding.

“Thank you for the offer to look at any injuries. Luckily I don’t have any,” she said, “I’m just going to take a little walk around the fence if that’s okay?”

Rick nodded, “Sure. Be careful out there.” She nodded, “I’ll make sure to be.” She walked down to where Carl and Carol now were.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” she said to them. 

“I’m Carl, this is Carol.”

She smiled at them. Carol eyed her suspiciously. She wasn’t sure what to think of this one.

“How do you know Daryl?” Carol asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

She shrugged, “Met in the woods, and on the road a few times. I’m so sorry about your little girl.”

Carol was surprised at this comment, “Did you see her in the woods?”

Y/N shook her head, “Daryl was looking for her when I met him.”

Carol nodded and returned to the fence to stab walkers through the head. Tears stung her eyes. Six months later, it still hurts.

“Want help?” She asked. The dead ones were swarming that part of the fence.

Carol shook her head, “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“Okay…” She said, backing away from Carol to leave her be. Instead, she headed to a space in one of the fields inside the fence. She watched the sky darken overhead, laying back and staring up at the stars, spotting the big dipper, Ursa Major, the northern star, Cancer, and Leo. She heard footsteps behind her. Her hand flew instinctively to her knife, but when she saw it was Daryl, released her grip. Daryl sat down next to her, looking up at the stars. He lit a cigarette, and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. 

“How long you been out there?” he asked.

“Since the very beginning, you?”

“Same. Was out there campin’ when them dead bastards started springin’ up like damn mushrooms everywhere.”

She sighed, “Shit hit the fan in the city. It was like 9-11 all over again.”

He glanced at her, “New York?”

She nodded, “Was a firefighter.”

“Shit…” he said as she stood up, “c’mon, no need to be out here looking at them fuckin’ things.”  She turned with Daryl to head back up to the prison but checked the horse before they went in and locked the door.

Yawning, Y/N spoke, “I think I’m going to try to catch a few hours. Goodnight everyone.” The truth was she didn’t sleep much anymore since the fall of the world. Utters of goodnight resounded in the cell block. She returned to her cell,  draped a sheet over the door, and slid off her duster, draping it over the headboard above. She lifted her shirt, practically peeling it off. She took off her pants and stretched. Turning the faucet handle she was pleasantly surprised that it actually worked. She grabbed a rag from her bag, soaked it, and began wiping her body down, enjoying the cool water on her skin.

Daryl passed her door. It was slightly ajar. He happened to glance in and saw her bare back. It was covered with scarred welts. His mouth opened slightly. He knew those marks all too well. 

She heard the sound of a shoe scuffing on the floor just outside her door. She turned around, covering her breasts with her hands, a knife in her hand. Daryl averted his eyes. She quickly put on a white tank top, and black shorts, blushing profusely.

“Uh…Thank you, Daryl."

"For what?" he asked, his eyes still on the floor.

"For giving me a chance here. I probably was  on the road too long. I’ve forgotten what kindness was.”

He chewed his lip as she spoke.

“Well, goodnight."

He nodded, “Night.”

She closed the creaking door.

Chapter 5: The Passageways

Y/N had been at the prison with the group for just over a month. It didn’t take long for her to fit in. She became a trustworthy member of the group. She worked just as hard as everyone else, if not harder to prove her worth, carrying her own weight. She helped out with supply runs, cleaning cells, hunting for food, and anything else needed.

Judith was growing like a weed. Y/N enjoyed her time with the child. Playing with her, feeding, and bathing her became like second nature. Everyone marveled at how the baby took to nuzzling into her, smiling and cooing as she talked to the little one. She even made up stories to tell the baby and keep her engaged. Judith enjoyed Daryl’s voice when she heard it. She’d turn to him, she loved it when he had time to feed her the bottles of formula. His gravelly voice calmed her when she cried. 

Beth also loved being around Y/N. Even though she was quiet, and Beth talkative, Y/N never seemed to get bored with her. Maggie got jealous that Beth spent so much time with her, but Glenn would remind her that she was making an effort. Maggie spent all her time wrapped up in Glenn. 

There was a desire to expand space and use certain areas for other things like play rooms, a library, and potentially more residents. Glenn looked around for Y/N and finally spied her sitting in one of the unturned fields with Beth. She was blowing on a blade of grass while Beth sang to the roaming horse as it grazed.

“Hey Y/N, we need a fourth for clearing out some passageways. Are you in?” Glenn asked.

“Sure,” She answered, “give me a sec and I’ll be ready.”

She joined Rick, Glenn, and Daryl at one of the doorways leading into an uncleared section of the prison’s passageways. Everyone had their weapons and flashlights.

“We’re starting in Cellblock D,” Rick said, “we had some live prisoners in here, but none of them survived for very long.”

“Funny how they were such badasses in prison, but when it came to this new world, no clue,” Glenn added.

“They were real assholes,” Daryl grunted. The other men nodded in agreement.

“We move slowly, in a group, each taking one at a time,” Rick said, “keeping noise to a minimum. No guns.”

Y/N brandished two arm-length spears, scraping them gently along the floor, kicking up sparks.

“Woah, now that’s badass…” Glenn remarked, his mouth half open.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Daryl had taken inventory of everything she was carrying when he brought her inside, realizing he had never seen her fight with these spears. He originally thought maybe she used them for fishing. She wore three sheaths with knives, one on each hip, and one down near her boot. She had a gun holster under her right breast, near her ribs, holding a 9 mm revolver.

“She’s ready,” Rick said, looking at Daryl. Daryl pulled out both his knives, Glenn his machete, and Rick his knife. Glenn held up a flashlight, shining it here and there in search of the dead. Once they came upon a small group of them, they fanned out. Y/N stepped away from the others, for room to use her spears. She brought them to her sides, lifted them, and cut down two, taking them out at the knees first, and then through the head. Glenn and Rick exchanged glances of awe. Daryl was taking out two at a time. Rick snapped out of watcher mode and sprang into action. He and Glenn started working one at a time. Before they got to the next few, she already had them decimated.

“Okay… good, let’s move on,” Rick said.

“We need to burn them,” She said.

“After we clear the line, we’ll burn them,” Rick said, “that’s the best way. We drag ‘em outside and burn them in the basketball yard.”

“Good,” Y/N said, “good plan.”

They worked the passageway until they reached the laundry room. Daryl would take out two, and Y/N would take out two. Daryl threw a knife into a Walker’s head, and she speared one through the head. 

Rick and Glenn stood back now watching this competition.

Daryl glanced at her, seeing her knock two Walkers down and stab them through the heads with her hooks. He elbowed one to the floor, cut another one at the knees then proceeded to stab them through the eye sockets into the brains. There was one left. They eyed each other. Daryl pulled his crossbow, Y/N her bow, and both shot the Walker. One was at an angle through the jaw upwards, the other right between the eyes. It fell with a thud, the black brain matter leaking from its skull as it shattered on the cement. Both headed toward the laundry room. Daryl caught his breath and looked at her. She was just as ready.

“Hey,” he said in a guttural whisper, “we go in easy. One door at a time.”

She nodded, “I’ll get the door.” He moved for her to get a full swing on the door while Daryl prepared his knives and pointed with his chin. She slowly opened the door. He took a step forward and stabbed the first one and the one behind it. She pulled the door shut.

“How many?” She asked. He held up six fingers. She opened the door again, Daryl took out three, then they both moved into the room to take out the final three.

“All clear,” She said, turning to talk to Rick, but he wasn’t behind her. Instead, he was still in the passageway with Glenn, arms crossed, observing them both.

“Looks like you two got that done,” he said, “say, Glenn, they didn’t need us after all.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way,” Glenn chuckled.

Once they dragged the last of the walker’s bodies out to the pile, they lit them on fire. Y/N tied a bandana around her face. Daryl did the same.

“I can stay and keep an eye on them,” she offered, sliding her hooks into the straps on her back, “I’m sure you’ll want to check in on Judith.”

“Thank you,” Rick said, “you can find your way back to C?”

“Yeah, I think so. I have a pretty good sense of direction,” she answered. Rick nodded.

“Thanks for all your help today,” Glenn said, “I feel a little guilty that you two did all the work. I barely broke a sweat.”

Y/N smiled behind the bandana, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Daryl added, shrugging.

Rick and Glenn headed back to the door, “coming, Daryl?” Glenn asked.

“Naw, I’ll hang back with Y/N,” he said, “go on.”

Rick and Glenn exchanged looks, Glenn smiled as he did so, “Okay, see you guys later.”

Once the door closed, “Where’d you learn to use spears like that?”

Y/N rubbed her shoulder, “I worked with hooks at the fire station. There wasn’t much downtime, but when I had it, I would mess around with them. The guys used to make fun of me being so short, so I had to prove ‘em wrong. They’d made hooks, especially for me, my size. You see ‘em. Guess I just got good at them.”

Daryl held out his hand, “Can I see one?”

She nodded, unsheathing one, and handed it to him. He studied the blade, the hook. He lightly ran his thumb along the blade.

“Careful,” she said, “they’re sharp.”

His calloused thumb bled a little, “Can make ‘em sharper for you.”

“Got a grinder here?”

“Mhm. Found one in the utility room.”

“Fantastic.”

“Bow, spears, knives, guns… anythin’ you don’t know how to use?” He asked, marveling at her abilities.

“Crossbows,” she looked at him, smiling behind her bandana.

Daryl looked down at his crossbow, “maybe I can show you sometime.”

“That would be great.”

Daryl picked up a long metal pole and rotated what was left of the bodies.

They lowered their bandanas. Daryl offered her a cigarette. She politely declined.

“You could have a good thing here, you and your group,” she commented, kicking a loose skull back into the fire.

“Mhm. We could. You’re part o’ us now too.” Daryl peered over at her.

She wasn’t sure she felt that yet, but kept quiet, “Come on, let’s get back inside.”

He smooshed the remainder of his butt under a boot.

Chapter 6: All Along the Watchtower

Three Months Later

Hershel handed Rick some tomato seeds, “Now, you’ll want to space them out, Rick, two feet apart, in each neat row.”

Rick nodded, “I can do that.”

Daryl had been showing Y/N how to fight better with less straining of her body, saving energy. He’d ride her ass, get her riled up, and attack. She’d be out of breath and he’d go for her again. They’d shout at each other, go toe to toe, and then walk away. Yet, they’d meet up the following day and start all over again. Finally, Y/N became even more confident in the skills he taught her. Daryl and Y/N were working as a team as if a piece of poetry in motion. They slowly began growing closer due to their commonalities. They were rarely inseparable and worked like a fine-oiled machine

This morning, Y/N was on watch in the watchtower, giving Maggie and Glenn a break. She pulled an iPod from her pocket and plugged the buds into her ears. She cast her eyes around the exterior of the prison fence. She picked up her talkie, “Carol, dead ones grouped up on gates twelve and thirteen.”

“Okay, Carl and I will head down that way,” Carol answered. Y/N watched as they walked down and started spiking them through their heads.

“Hey,” Daryl finished his ascent from the stairs inside the tower.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Breakfast,” he handed her a bowl of oatmeal.

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled as she began to eat, “I never thought I would learn to love oatmeal so much.”

"Managed to steal extra brown sugar, I know you like that shit," he huffed as he sat down next to her. Daryl handed her a thermos of coffee and two mugs. She poured the mugs full and offered one to him.

They stood in comfortable silence, watching outside the fences, and any movement within the fence. They shared the binoculars. Daryl looked in her direction, studying her features, watching her hair shifting in the wind. She was small in stature, with small muscles on her arms and legs. He remembered seeing her topless; with her scarred back, and those rounded breasts. Daryl redirected his attention to the yard.

“You know about the pond fifteen minutes from here?” She asked, picking up the binoculars.

“Yeah. Found it ‘bout a week ‘fore you came. Why?”

“Wanna go fishing later?”

“Sure. Could use somethin’ different to eat,” he remarked. She smiled at him.

Chapter 6: Hooks and Knots

After guard duty, Y/N began to gather things for their trip and headed outside. She sat on an old rain barrel, unwrapping a fish line. “Be ready in a sec,” she told Daryl as he approached munching on an apple. She pulled out the fish hooks she’d nabbed on a scavenge and started tying two hooks on one string.

“Why two hooks?” He asked, “Never seen that ‘fore.”

She laid the length of the string out. “This hook goes over this hook backward. The barb catches the fish, and the upper hook holds it tight. Lose less fish that way.”

Daryl picked it up, twirling the string in his hands, “Does it work?”

She nodded. He shrugged and set up two strings the same way while she finished the last one. He stopped her when he noticed her method of tying knots.

“Try this,” he said, showing her a different type of knot, “holds better on the fish line.”

“Like this?” she asked.

“Naw,” he showed her again, hand over hand, “See?”

She nodded. They wrapped each line around a long stick.

Once they had everything together, the two climbed on Daryl’s motorcycle and sped down the road in a kick of dust.

Rick watched them leave, “There they go again.” He turned and smiled at Hershel with his eyebrow cocked.

“Mhm… there they go.” He repeated, “looks like Daryl’s found himself a girl.”

He and Hershel shared a chuckle.

Carol spoke up, “Don’t you find it strange that she’s been here for almost seven months, and we still know so little about her?”

Hershel looked at Rick, “she does have a point. I don’t even know where she comes from.”

Rick added, “I don’t think any of us do. Obviously, we can trust her.”

Carol nodded, “I agree, we can trust her. She’s proven herself time and time again. But is she hiding something?”

Maggie laid Judith down for a nap, “what do you think she could be hiding?”

“From what you all tell me, she’s great with weapons. Was she a cop? Or in the military? Why was she all alone out there?” Carol shared her questions with the group.

“I thought I heard something about firefighting,” Glenn shrugged.

“A firefighter with such weapon acumen?” Carol piped up.

Rick rubbed his stubbled chin in thought, “Maybe it’s time to find out. Not attack her, just ask her.”

Part Two

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𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

ASK MEME / ACCEPTING

The knuckles hit the smooth tissue of the abdomen with all their force, before the other fist collided with the hard jaw. A surprised, pained cry pierced through the stifling space which smelled of stale beer, cigarettes, and something unpleasantly sour that the ruby haired woman couldn't quite place. The hard sole of the black boot collided with the hip of the last asshole who tried to grab her shoulder, missing by perhaps an inch and paying dearly for the attempt. The door bit the unfortunate man's forearm, who let out a cry like a wounded beast, before quickly and humiliatingly pulling the limb back, allowing Clare to forcefully slam the door shut. Ivory skin on the wrist was stained with crimson after she wiped away the budding blood pooling on the plump lower lip. Marvelous, truly, just when she thought that the evening would end with a couple of cold beers and a fog hugging around the tired, sober mind. Emerald optics focused on the other breathing thing inside the narrow space.

Technically, this circus was his fault. The enraged stampede of intoxicated brutes, which now, like an army of bloodthirsty Spartans, were pounding on the door and shouting insults and threats, originally chased after him, for reasons unknown to her, and probably would not have interested her if, in the process of that pursuit, they had not jumped on the polished, well-preserved hood of her beloved iron pet. As soon as their filthy foot dared to touch her American muscle car, it became personal, as much as her problem as it was his. For two against a legion they were doing more than fine, yet no matter how durable, dexterous, resourceful and blessed with close combat skills they were, the numbers of that gang would swallow them like a wave, so the quick retreat to the backroom of the bar that burned her pride as a hot poker would, was the only option in the given moment. Fiery redhead would rather be torn apart like a rag doll than to cowardly run away.

❝ I would finish you off myself, but you'll need that hands to clean the damn dirt your ' friends ' out there left on my fucking car. ❞ Crimson-haired woman didn't know Billy, but she heard about him. Lack of communication nothing personal, Clare ignored every breathing human around her -- yet, there was something about the temperamental male, something residing in those sapphire orbs that seemed very familiar. Broken and wrapped in barb wire as a result, can sense its own kind. Letting out a long, irritated sigh, Clare crouched down, pulling something hidden in the black boot, before fishing another thing taking cover inside her leather jacker. ❝ If things get nasty, which they will by the looks of it. ❞ A knife was offered to the male, careful to hand it over without any accidental physical contact. ❝ You seem as a guy who doesn't need a manual to know how to use this. ❞ Opening the knife she had kept for herself, redhead drew the black blade from its sheath , which glinted eagerly in the dim moonlight that filtered through the dirty, small window.

#Thank you so much for sending it in! Hope this is ok -- and don't mind the length I was just trying to create a setting! #v1ctimplagued: billy #ft. clare

[heroes-anthesis]

Tracy Columbo's Interview with Capgras

The video starts pointed at the floor. The camera pans up, revealing the interior of a run down circus tent. As Tracy begins walking around, he hisses and jumps back as his leg gets caught on barbed wire that was not there seconds before. Any one who pauses the video and goes frame by frame will see that it was nothing more than a glancing blow. He continues walking, occasionally panning to the floor to show various more traps and clown themed props laying around.

The video slowly gets darker and darker, as eventually it comes to show a curtain. Tracy’s hand is seen reaching for it, but he suddenly retracts it, turning behind himself. “What was that?” Tracy says, but there is nothing behind him. The camera eventually moves back to the curtain which, when uncovered, reveals a descending staircase.

As Tracy goes down, he moves the camera. His first name is briefly visible before he snaps the camera away from it, instead focusing on some blood stained dolls stuck to the wall. Any person who has had a friend or accomplice go missing may recognize a doll if they look closely enough. “Hey, isn't a clown's job to make people laugh? May wanna reconsider your business model..." Tracy says, his voice full of nervousness.

The video continues down the stairs. Occasionally, Tracy yelps as dolls and other objects fall in front of him, though rarely do these things show on camera. Eventually, Tracy reaches the bottom, and pans the camera to show his surroundings.  A damp, wooden hallway- painted with circus attire with red, orange, and black. Three metal doors line the right wall, with two doors on the left, and a split leading to two hallways- Left and right. Crates and props scattered here too, but much more bloodstains and dolls resembling that of people. Chuckling, Tracy calls out: “Marco!”

A scream cries out from one of the metal doors. The top of the video shows the edge of an inhumanly long arm appear from the ceiling and smash on the door. The screaming stops, and Tracy is silent and unmoving for several moments. “Lets uh, let’s not look in there.” The camera moves into the hallway on the left, Tracy entering a room. Multiple people, three, sat in a room covered in screens. They were in the center, seated by desks, with twisted smiles and wide eyes darted between the screens and their smallest details, headphones on. A vaguely serpentine object slithered around the edges of the room, though in the video it can barely be seen due to lighting.

The camera stays on the people for several moments, before a soda bottle is seen flying into frame. One of the people snaps their attention towards the camera, a glare on their face. Suddenly, the lights flicker off, and the video stops.

The video cuts back on, pointed landscape.On one side, the edges of Tracy’s body can be seen, his body language suggesting fear and tension. On the other side, an inhuman clown smile could be seen. Yellow eyes, a deadly grin. As the interview began, its voice seems to overlap over itself in a terrible croak.

Tracy: I want to start with: Who are you? For most of Charlotte, Capgras is an urban legend, a boogie man if you will.

Capgras:They are correct.

Tracy:Fascinating! And, you know, I was wondering about that. Most boogeymen that I've heard of preciously like people to know they exist in and out, but you seem, I don't want to say subdued... calculated is a good word I think. And from what I've seen snooping around, you're very effective. These poor fellows didn't know what hit them, me thinks. So, what's the secret, are they food, followers, a power source... lovers? Kidding on that last one. But hey, for godlike beings like yourself, can never be too sure.

The sound of creaking metal can be heard

Capgras:Humour. I seek to laugh- to shriek into joyous cries, and there is nothing funnier than the hilarious irony that everyone is no more powerful than they are in control of their lives and others. I am walking proof that is false. I am the redemption of humanity, born from trauma. I shall be amidst very soon.

Tracy:The redemption of humanity… I’d like to hear more about how you’ll go about that. Are we looking at a total enslavement, or something more sinister? Do your plans stop at Charlotte?

The creaking increases. A slam is heard as Tracy’s body flinches.

Capgras:My plans have never failed yet, and they all have expanded from years ago to years in the future. They are guaranteed to expand with time, inflicting fear and terror in all my prey. Your dreams, your aspiration, your hope- all of which is what I shall feast on, before I allow you to shriek in terror as your body unravels. I shall feast soon, for I am getting…Hungry.

Tracy:L-let’s shift gears for a moment. Young Charlie Cotard, what’s his involvement in all of this?

Capgras:He was my host, my victim for many years. He has had a life filled with despair and trauma, drugs and loss, and with that- I drank, and fueled. I was the furnace and everyone else was the coal- he fed me, without knowing, and I grew. He knew of me, but not of my power- and now, he is free. Our deal makes that stand. You are rather curious, aren’t you? I wonder how your stammery, shaky, shrill little voice would sound with my talons of twisted steel running across every inch of flesh you possess.

Tracy:If it gets to that, my safe word is toucan. But can you blame for the questions? I mean, you live out in the boondocks, and I don’t have a car. Gotta get my time’s worth, ya know? There is a brief pause. So, if Charlie is out, how do you set your plans, is there another host, or do you just get your hands dirty?

Capgras:I no longer need him. I am in thousands of minds scattered across the country, spreading rapidly. I have rewritten the definition and symptoms of Capgras syndrome- I am hidden in the skull of your most loved and trusted. The powerful, the weak- I am in the air you breathe, the bread you split and the wine you drink. Alike God, I have taken my position on the throne of all things. I am everywhere already, and growing in power. God is dead, Capgras is here.

Tracy looks to his side, then immediately looks at the camera, then back at Capgras.

Tracy:Yup yup, new god, reckoning is coming, mental illness inbound. Good talk, make for good story.

Tracy’s hand reaches for the camera, and the playback stops.

[END RECORDING]

#discord rp #superhero #superhero rp #roleplay #rp #oc #clown oc #reporter #analogue horror

[moriihana]

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || twelve: the both of you are definitely at least a little unhinged

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: because you were incredibly bored, you tag along with dabi during his little outing with the high-end nomu. the two of you have fun and bicker like an old married couple. the usual.

content: fluff

word count: 2659

taglist: @iincandescenttt

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

“Hey, doll.” Dabi leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms. “Got a moment to talk?”

You snorted, shifting Nugget off your lap. “No, can’t you see I’m totally swamped petting my questionably gay cat?” You joked. “‘course I have a moment. Especially since everyone’s off doin’ their own thing right now.”

He stepped in and shut the door, then strode across the room to sit next to you. “Y’know the Wing Hero, Hawks?”

“The one that looks like a playboy and talks so cockily it makes me want to shove barbed wire into my ears? Yeah, I know him. How come?”

“He approached me. Wants to join the League.”

You scoffed, “The number two hero wants to join the League of Villains, huh? Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

“Oh, it gets better, mouse.” Dabi drawled. “Obviously, I was suspicious—I might be insane, but I’m not stupid—so I found out where he lives and sent some thugs to scope out the place. Wanted to see if I could get any information. Lucky for us, his mother was there.” An unhinged grin spread across his face and pulled at his staples, a manic gleam in his eyes. “With a few threats, we were given everything and more.”

You sat up with a look of glee that rivalled Dabi’s. “Oooh, do tell! I love secrets.”

“Gladly.” Dabi looked down as Nugget climbed into his lap, making biscuits on his thigh. “You too, huh, ya lil stink? Makes sense, you nosy shit.” He chuckled at your scowl, “Just kiddin’, doll. Anyways, here’s the deal…”

You let out a hum once Dabi finished talking. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that this abused little boy, who basically idolised Endeavour, was recruited by the HPSC and trained to be… what, a child soldier? After Endeavour arrested his father? And that’s Hawks? Sheesh, wonder how he’s gonna feel when he finds out what a massive shitlord Endeavour really is…” You snorted and straightened, interlocking your fingers and stretching your arms over your head. “Anyways, you’re telling me this now for a reason, right? We agreed that you didn’t need to tell me all of your little villainous escapades that I don’t accompany you on if it’s not anything super important, so I figure something’s come up now?”

“Bingo.” Dabi smirked. “I decided to humour Hawks—information of the ongoings in the HPSC is valuable to us, and since I already know he’s a double-crosser, it’ll be easy to filter our information well enough. He’s in the… initiation period, so to speak. Y’know Ujiko, the fuckin’ weird doctor guy you and I met? He gave me a new toy to play with—a High-End Nomu. The potential is incredible.” His tone took on an excited edge. “I want to send it up against Endeavour as a test.”

“Okay… and this has to do with Hawks… how, exactly? Not followin’ ya here, pretty boy.”

“I told Hawks I would let loose a Nomu at a warehouse by the coast to test its strength against some random hero. Which was initially the plan! But after seeing Hawks interacting with Endeavour this morning during the broadcast of the Hero Billboard Chart, I had a better idea. Why not have it fight Endeavour?”

You laughed, “I like the sound of that. I wanna watch shit go down, can I come with? Please let me come with, it’s so fucking boring around here I need to do something or I’ll die.”

“I wasn’t tellin’ you all this just to leave ya behind, doll. Of course I’m dragging you along. We should probably head out now, so we have plenty of time—Ujiko said he’d use that gross fuckin’ method to get us around, so we can just have him send us to the warehouse.” Dabi brushed off his pants and stood up.

“The one that makes you throw up to warp away? Eugh, it’s so disgusting. I hate that one!” You whined, but got up nonetheless. 

“Yeah, yeah. But without Kurogiri we’ve got no other option. You ready to go?” Once you confirmed, Dabi reached up to his collar and pressed down on the communicator he had fixed into it. “Ujiko, send Y/N and I to the warehouse.”

You immediately made your displeasure known as soon as the black liquid burst out of your mouth and enveloped your body.

Once the warp had finished and you were both in front of the warehouse where the Nomu was stored, you made exaggerated gagging sounds. “I fuckin’ hate that. Why can’t it be more pleasant…” 

“Sorry, doll.” Dabi shrugged, an amused smirk on his face. “You wanted to come with.”

���He should get a better goddamn way to warp…” you grumbled, rubbing the back of your neck with a scowl.

He gave you a pat on the shoulder, then pulled open the door to the warehouse. Dabi shoved his hands in his pockets, walking in slowly with you right behind. “The ones before didn’t really understand, but I expect more this time, High-End.”

The High-End Nomu was in a hunched over position. Its head turned towards the two of you and pupils appeared in its glowing eyes once Dabi spoke. “W-W-Won’t… l-let… won’t let you down…”

“Oh, it can talk?” You tilted your head, leaning to the side slightly. “Is it a High-End thing? Will it follow directions better?”

“Probably. I sure fuckin’ hope so, at least.” Dabi crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know your job?”

“F-Find… the stron-gest… and attack…” 

“Go on then.” Dabi grinned lopsidedly. He stood back up and watched as the Nomu took off from the warehouse to find Endeavour. He then looked at you. “Didja bring your phone?”

“Mmhm.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and held it out to him. “Do your thing.”

Dabi hummed and pulled up the news pages for any updates. Once one came through, he tapped on it to watch the live footage of Endeavour fighting the Nomu. “Oh, it’s strong.”

“Looks like it, yeah.” You set your chin on his shoulder as you watched with him. “Bodes well for us, at least. And watching Endeavour get his ass beat is pretty damn satisfying.”

The amusement faded once Endeavour started to actually make a dent in the Nomu. When he used his Prominence Burn move, Dabi swore under his breath. He handed you your phone back, then pressed on the communicator again.

“Ujiko. We need to get closer to Endeavour.”

You groaned a quiet ‘not again,’ but tucked your phone into your back pocket. You glared at Dabi as the black liquid poured out of your mouth and wrapped around your body. Once you were dropped near Endeavour, you lightly shoved him. “Asshole,” you grumbled, pouting.

“You wanted to come.” Dabi simply winked and gave you a lazy smile.

“Startin’ to regret it right about now, pretty boy,” you teased gently. “Let’s go bully an old man, yeah?” You raised an eyebrow when he took your chin in his hand.

“When we get over there, stay by my side, follow my lead. I don’t want you getting hurt, doll. I’m serious. Do you understand?” He only dropped his hand when you gave him a soft ‘yes.’ “Good. C’mon.”

As you made your way out of the alley you were deposited into, Dabi placed his palm on the small of your back. He kept it there until you stopped in front of Endeavour and Hawks, at which point he curled it around your waist.

“Just a minute now,” Dabi drawled. “None of this is how we planned it, but that’s fine.” He gave a menacing smile when the heroes startled. “Well, Endeavour… should I say nice to meet you?”

You grinned and waved from next to him. “We didn’t think you’d be here. You’re really not lookin’ too good there, Number One!” You taunted.

Endeavour’s face contorted in anger as his eyes fixated on Dabi. “It’s you! The one who murdered Snatch!” 

“Sna—? Who?” As Dabi spoke, he tapped your hip twice. You took two steps forward and to the side so he could create a barrier of flames without burning you. “More importantly, let’s chat while we have the chance.”

“Take it easy, I’ll handle them,” Hawks said quickly as Endeavour tried and failed to get up. “I only have my tiny feathers left… but I can at least buy us some time.”

Dabi rolled his eyes and walked forwards. “C’mon, we’re only here to collect the Nomu. There’s no way we could actually win, right? Against the top two dudes, already beat up and bloodied?!” When he finished speaking, a feral grin pulled taut at his staples and he lunged forwards, igniting his forearms. 

You caught sight of something moving in the sky, and immediately reached out towards his back. “Dabi, get back!” You shrieked. 

Dabi extinguished his arms and jumped back beside you just in time to dodge the hero slamming into the ground in front of you. “Thanks, mouse.” 

“Don’t mention it,” you breathed out, relief palpable in your voice. The two of you watched the new arrival carefully, unsure of your next moves.

“I saw the news and came hopping! Endeavour! Hawks! You boys don’t get to have all the fun! And you two—you’re with the League? Your butts’re about to get kicked!” The hero grinned, looking at you. 

Dabi groaned. “Fuckin’ Mirko? Too bad… right when things were heating up, too.” He pressed the communicator. “Ujiko, get us out of here. Bye for now, Mr. Number One Hero. I’m sure we’ll get another chance to talk, but until then…” That feral grin made its way back onto Dabi’s face, this time splitting his skin as he shouted, “Just keep doing your thing and don’t go dying on me, ‘kay, Todoroki Enji?!”

Once you were safely back at the warehouse, you raised your hand to Dabi’s cheek, healing where his skin split. “You got a little too excited there, pretty boy.” Despite your unhappiness with the fact he hurt himself, your scolding was gentle. You shook your head with a fond smile and decided to let him off easy. “Why’d we come back here instead of going home?”

“Sorry, doll.” To his credit, Dabi did sound at least a little apologetic. He then shrugged, leaning against a support beam. “I had Ujiko plop us back here since I figured Hawks would come lookin’ for me after things didn’t go the way I initially said.”

“Ahh, I see. How long d’you think it’ll take the birdbrain to get over here?” You pulled out your phone, waving it. “We could play a game or some shit while we wait.”

“Who fuckin’ knows, so why the hell not. What kinda stupid games you got on here?” Dabi swiped your phone out of your hands, ignoring your brief indignant protest. You grumbled when you realised he wasn’t gonna give it back.

“Asshole…” you huffed, pouting as you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Let’s see… I downloaded that one game where one player holds the phone up to their forehead and has to guess the word as the other players give hints by acting it out—ah, yeah, that one right there! Charades! Toga wanted to play it one night with Twice and I. It wasn’t terrible, if not a little silly. Probably not your style.”

“Definitely not my style, doll,” Dabi snorted. “What else ya got?”

“Hell if I know. Toga’s always the one stealing my phone to download games. I don’t know why you people can’t use your own damn phones.”

“You charge your phone.”

“Well, start charging yours!” You reached around his arm for your phone, whining when Dabi held it out of reach. “Don’t be a brat, it’s not my fault you don’t remember to charge your phone! Gimmie!”

“Sorry, mouse. You’re the one who suggested to play a game,” Dabi drawled, grinning lazily.

“I didn’t think you would just take my phone!” You smacked him lightly on his shoulder, returning to pouting. “Can’t believe I love an overgrown child.”

“You’re the one pouting because you’re not getting your way.”

“I’m pouting because you took my phone and won’t give it back!”

Dabi chuckled and moved beside you, holding out your phone. “Fine, here ya go.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoved it into your back pocket. You opened your mouth to respond, but immediately stopped when Hawks walked in. Your grip on your cane tightened.

“None of that was according to plan,” Hawks spoke after he stopped in front of Dabi with an unamused expression.

“That so?” Dabi quipped back, raising an eyebrow.

A feather blade was held up to his neck faster than either of you could blink. You immediately bristled, but Dabi shook his head. “It’s alright, mouse,” he said, keeping his voice steady. You reluctantly settled down, glaring at the hero instead.

“How about some actual cooperation, Dabi?” Hawks narrowed his eyes, disregarding you for the moment.

“Hey, I thought you only had those baby feathers left?” Dabi tilted his head, taunting ever so slightly.

“You think I’d meet with a liar like you unarmed? It was supposed to be tomorrow. And not downtown, but at the factory by the water. You never mentioned bringing your little friend here, either.” Hawks’s expression darkened. “Plus, this Nomu was clearly a cut above the rest. You could’ve mentioned that beforehand.”

“That ‘friend’ is my partner, Y/N. You’d do well to remember their name, or I’ll brand it into you,” Dabi warned, then settled back into his laid back demeanour. “And I guess I just changed my mind. Didn’t I tell you I’d be testing the Nomu’s capabilities? But we’re both a little guilty. I asked you for someone kinda strong, but you brought the top dog himself! It wasn’t that much of a test.”

“I didn’t mean any offence, Dabi. No need to threaten me.” Hawks glanced at you, then turned his attention back to Dabi. “But I thought you’d be thrilled to inflict that kind of pain on him. Besides, you’re the one who broke our agreement.”

Dabi scoffed, “I’m s’posed to believe the number two hero, just like that? This was me testing how much I can trust you. And tell me, why zero casualties today?” He shifted his body sideways away from the blade. “Do you really sympathise with us? You came looking to cooperate, but you sure don’t act like it.”

You watched as Hawks’s face contorted in irritation, amusement bubbling up at his frustration.

“I gotta keep up appearances. A hero can’t go losing the public’s trust. The more faith they have in me, the juicer the intel I can get. That’s to your advantage. Try taking the long view here.” He lowered his blade as Dabi walked around him. “What I do, I do for the League’s sake, Dabi.”

“Fine… but you don’t get a face-to-face with the boss just yet. You’ll hear from us, Hawks.” Dabi looked over his shoulder at you. “C’mon, mouse.”

You smiled at that, straightening up. “Finally, I was getting bored here. See ya around, Number Two.” You manoeuvred around him with a wave, walking after Dabi.

Dabi stared out at the horizon as the sun rose, hands in his pockets. You were leaned against him with your eyes shut.

“Oh… oh! Right! That was Snatch!” 

You hummed and looked up at Dabi when he spoke. “That was the sand guy, right? He made that stupid comment about the families of the people we kill?” You frowned as blood trickled out from his scars, gently wiping it away as he responded. 

“Yeah, that one.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I’ve thought about it so much that I’ve gone crazy.”

You gave a soft laugh at that. “At least you’ve got someone just as fuckin’ crazy by your side.”

“Yeah. At least I’ve got that.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #todoroki toya x reader #todoroki toya x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #my writing #bnha fanfiction #navi: we cant fix each other #writing.txt

[firstaidspray]

WIP DAY!!!

Tagged by @confidentandgood to post a WIP!!! I would do an art one too but I'm too lazy to get my tablet open and do all that. So you're stuck with Juliette meeting Ace Merrill and his gang in her Stand By Me verse. Note that this story takes place 10 yrs post-movie so Ace is 26 here. I didn't feel comfortable about writing him as 16 and also Kiefer was almost 19 in that role so I do NOT believe that Ace looks 16 and never have. So why not make him grow up and mature a bit? Just a little. He's still a bastard though.

(Also Stephen King gave him a terrible life story after Stand By Me so I own him now)

As Juliette had crossed the street, back to the side closest to the path back to her house, a convertible pulled up beside her, packed to capacity with a group of young men. They had to be around her age, 23...no, a little bit older. While there were seven in total, sitting in strange positions to fit themselves into the topless Camaro, it was only the driver that Juliette paid attention to.

She'd never claimed to believe that there was such a thing as "the most beautiful person in the world," but in that moment, it was all she could think. It was the spiky, bleach blond hair that first captured her attention, and then the eyes, an icy bluish green that felt like they were boring holes into her. His nose was cute, round at the tip and fit his face nicely. Below was a prominent cupid's bow on a pair of smirking, soft looking pink lips, between which a cigarette was resting. The lower half of his face was also dusted in short, scruffy stubble that gave him a more rugged look. 

"Umm…hi, guys," Juliette said flirtatiously, beginning her nervous habit of twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "D-do you need something from me?"

"Yeah, I'd like something from y-" began the one in the passenger seat, but he was silenced when the driver smacked him upside the head and proceeded to shut off the car, getting out and making his way over to Juliette.

When he reached her, she noticed that he wasn't as tall as she'd anticipated, but still dwarfed her 5'1 frame. Wearing a tight black t-shirt with rolled sleeves, Juliette could see his arms and chest were toned, the left bicep having a band of barbed wire tattooed around it.  Her thoughts instantly went to running her hands along those arms and his chest...

"What's your name, doll?" He asked in a gruff, alluring voice. He'd taken the cigarette from his lips and was tapping it so that ashes fell to the sidewalk between their feet. 

Juliette batted her lashes and gave a coquettish smile. "Juliette Chrysler. I'm new in town."

He smiled, this time with teeth, presenting her with a wolfish grin. "I know. It's a small town, and I'd recognize someone as pretty as you if I'd seen them before."

This made her blush, and she went from twirling her hair to chewing on one of her long, fake nails. "Wow…well what's your name?"

He took his cigarette back to his mouth and inhaled, before answering as he exhaled the smoke down in her face. "Ace. Ace Merrill. You better not forget that, Miss Juliette."

"I could never forget your name, Ace," Juliette replied, nearly out of breath because of how tight he made her chest feel, from both the smoke and attraction. The stare he was giving her felt like a vice, squeezing her painfully. 

His grin widened and he took his free hand to the side of Juliette's face, tucking the strand of hair she'd been twirling behind her ear and then cupping his hand on her cheek. As his cold eyes studied her reaction- the pink warmth on her cheeks, a pair of heart shaped lips parted slightly in awe, her long lashes fluttering nervously like a butterfly's wings- her dark brown eyes looked up at him in adoration, sparkling in the summer sunlight so that they had a tiny bit of golden shimmer. 

"You and I need to get together again sometime," Ace finally said, releasing Juliette's head from his hand. "How about tonight? I'll pick you up, and we'll head to the drive in theater. Don't bother with money, I'll pay for everything."

Juliette took a shuddering breath. "I, um, I would love that more than anything, Ace, but I just moved here, and I haven't even gotten my furniture into the house yet…I was actually looking for someone to help with that, do you know anyone?"

Ace turned to look at the other guys in his car, who had been watching the other two expectantly, then looked back to Juliette with a smirk. "We'll do it."

The six young men in the vehicle erupted in protest, but Ace turned to face them with a stern expression, those blue green eyes shooting daggers at the whole group, his teeth now grinding the cigarette between them. 

"You heard me, boys. We're gonna head over to Miss Juliette's house and help her move in, and none of you are going to complain, got it?" His voice had changed from a sultry gruff to a dangerous gruff. 

All of the others nodded in agreement, but one piped up, "I'm only doing it if we get paid!"

Juliette waved her hands. "Oh, don't worry, I'll pay you all! I'll even make you guys some lunch and get some sodas. You'll be compensated, I promise."

The one who spoke out of turn and was within inches of Ace smacking him in the face nodded. "Sounds good, miss."

#my ocs #wip day #my writing #juliette chrysler #x: i want you to want me #v: stand by me

[supernatpod]

Sweet Tea and the Skunk Ape

Not Like the Other Boys

The Southern United States is a unique place. It’s being dragged into the 21st Century kicking and screaming with a population rooted in the old ways. It’s not hard to see why. There are places here where a thin line separates civilization from the unknown and it’s often the width of a barbed-wire fence. Stories from the first peoples still echo down the centuries and people avoid some places because they’ve always been avoided. Occasionally a person will see the reason why. The South has its own Bigfoot.  We call him the Skunk Ape.

The name alone says something about the type of encounters we have. In the Pacific Northwest, Bigfoot is known for leaving mysterious footprints in the soft soil and vanishing without a trace. Here, he gets so close you can smell him. It’s not a pleasant smell. Something like rotting garbage. He’s also more violent than his northern cousin. Campsites destroyed, animals torn apart, and sometimes even the campers themselves grabbed and slung around like a rag doll. When you meet a Skunk Ape, you know it.

While the idea of physical attack is terrifying, it’s not typical. What is typical is the taunting.

Bully of the Woods

Imagine for a moment you’re in the woods, not far from a stream. It’s night. You’ve been out checking your trail cameras. You’ve been finding animal parts but no sign of the culprit. You hear the crickets and the normal sounds of the night. Between one step and the next, all falls silent. That’s when the first pebble hits you. It bounces off the side of your head. You look around in confusion. The second hits you, again, the side of your head. Maybe some of the local kids are out having a laugh.

“Who’s out there?” you shout angrily.

Then the rocks start coming from all sides. Some larger than pebbles. All coming for your head and chest. You cover your head and duck down trying to protect yourself. 

“STOP IT!”

The rocks stop. Then you hear a loud chirping whistle. Something positively inhuman. Then the sound of something, SEVERAL somethings, in fact, moving through the woods. Large somethings moving slowly and deliberately back into the unknown blackness of untouched nature. You know it wasn’t the kids from town. No one else does though. And no one’s going to believe you.

#paranormal #strange #bigfoot #skunkape #sasquatch #supernatural #weird #blog

[patrineptn]

Far From Home

Summary: Kagome is never too far from trouble, it seems. After moving to America to start over, she ends up in Hawkins just as strange things start to happen. Fandom: Inuyasha x Stranger Things (Ch 4) Crossover

Also available on FF.Net and AO3

Chapter 05

Max got antsy as the time passed. She avoided everyone and kept to herself, only glancing through the window as Steve drove. Kagome, Eddie and Lucas tried to give her space, even if it meant being squeezed on the other side of the backseat. Being smaller, Kagome ended up sitting on her side, with her legs crossed over Eddie's knee. He kept a hand on her waist for stability and to avoid pressing her back against the handle. When Steve stopped by the cemetery, Kagome released a breath - her hips were starting to cramp and her back had seen better days.

Kagome didn't look around much. Graveyards always housed spirits that needed guidance or that were still tied to the living world and wanted to share some words with anyone capable of noticing their presence. She wouldn't be able to help them at the moment. They also held a heavy grievance atmosphere that dampened her mood. Westerns had a different way of dealing with death and she was still getting used to it.

From a distance, Kagome worried about Max. Her aura was turning sour. Dustin told her the short version of what happened in the previous summer - about Max’s step-brother’s death saving her and Eleven, and how it caused her mother’s divorce and made Max much quieter and withdrawn. Dustin also disclosed to Kagome and Eddie the events around Eleven's arrival and Will’s abduction, which included Barbie, Nancy's best friend; the Demogorgon, Demodogs, and the Mind Flayer; then finally about the loss of Bob and Hopper. All of it left a tear in the group as Joyce moved away with Jonathan, Will and Eleven/Jane to try starting over somewhere else.

Kagome’s heart grew heavy. These kids were so young and fought for their lives and their friends' safety not only against monsters but also against the government and people with selfish and evil intentions. It gave her a sense of proudness for their courage at the same time it felt wrong for them to be in such danger. She wondered if that’s how her mother felt every time she came back from the past having to replenish her first-aid kit and covered in cuts and bruises. She tried hiding the worst injuries but her mother always knew. Ms Higurashi would often reassure Kagome how proud she was of her daughter, but deep inside she probably hoped it would end soon.

“You’re quiet,” said Kagome to Eddie. "What's bugging you?"

“It all happened right under my nose, under everyone’s nose. If I hadn’t seen Chrissy… breaking like a straw doll, I’d think you’re shitting me.”

“No wonder no one mentions it, duh,” mocked Steve. “It’s so crazy that I still cannot believe some things I’ve seen. And I was there!”

“Without your friend, Eleven, do you think we have any chance against Vecna?”

“Probably not, but I’m not going without a fight.”

“And we have Kagome now!” said Dustin. Kagome felt Eddie shift and stand closer to her. “Vecna cannot enter her mind. If her powers work against him as they did with demons, he will regret ever coming back to Hawkins.”

“GUYS!” Lucas screamed, “MAX ISN’T ANSWERING!”

Kagome, Eddie, Steve and Dustin ran to Billy Hargrove’s grave. Max’s eyes were wide and her blue irises turned white as she looked at nothing. Her face twitched but there was no indication she heard them. Lucas and Steve squeezed her shoulders and yelled her name. There was no response other than the tremors over her body. Lucas looked at Kagome, pleading with her to do something. Kagome already had Max’s hand between hers.

“It’s different this time. I can’t find Max, as if she's out of my reach. I think Vecna isn’t letting me get in.” 

Kagome pushed more of her power into Max. Her hand stung as small cuts appeared, feeling as if she was clutching barbed wire. Sweat rolled down her face as her breathing became ragged.

The screams stopped. Everything near Kagome was frozen, including her own body which was still kneeling by Max. She tried touching herself, but her hand passed through her head - not even a strand of hair moved. Kagome looked around, but no matter the direction, it was all covered in a dense fog.

Kagome walked away from the unmoving group, following her instincts rather than any logical sense. Her surroundings changed colors. She kept her march, not seeing an inch in front of her until the smoke dissipated. She found herself inside a house. 

The wooden floor, dated furniture and floral wallpaper gave the place a vintage air. She stood in a corridor, with a staircase on one side and an archway on the other side. The only source of light came from a door in front of her. Kagome tried turning the knob but it was locked. The stained glass of the door didn’t let her see through it but sounds of steps came from outside. Vecna’s voice filled the room, taunting Max. Kagome punched the door and yelled the girl’s name.

“You cannot save Maxine.” Kagome gasped. The door opened to Vecna’s gruesome face looking directly at her. The door closed again. “Who are you, Kagome Higurashi?”

Kagome put some distance between them, never losing him from her sight. “Why are you killing these people? What are you trying to achieve?”

“You’re not like us.” His head bent to the side. “Yet I cannot enter your mind.”

‘Us?’

Vecna’s figure vanished as Steve, Dustin and Lucas’ voices came calling for Max along with the melodious singing of Kate Bush. Meanwhile, Eddie’s voice entered her ear. Kagome inhaled. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the cemetery, with Max dropping by her side right after. The group rushed to check on Maxine, who finally reacted to them.

Vecna’s aura still lingered, like a shadow on the corner of the eyes. Kagome expanded her aura, not really expecting to find anything. Only the wildlife answered her call. She finally noticed the pair of arms surrounding her. 

“Welcome back.” He winked. Kagome smiled before the tiredness took over and everything was black.

In the dreamland, Kagome was back in the old house. The adjoining rooms were still dark and the light still came from the stained glass. However, this time the door was open. She crossed it to a world covered in red.

Bricks floated around while several buildings falling apart decorated the surroundings. Totems with corpses of people she never met emerged from the ground. Their faces contorted in pain and fear. Their eyes were hollow. She found Fred and Chrissy and her heart constricted. Their expression of pure horror brought tears to her eyes. 

Creatures lurked around, following her every step. She felt but couldn't find Vecna. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Kagome walked aimlessly, aware that it was happening outside the physical world. Somewhere else, her body was safely tucked in warm arms.

A creature got closer. It was the size of a large dog, without any recognizable facial features. It crawled behind the covers, but Kagome noticed its presence long ago. Not for the first time in her life, Kagome was saddened for not having a complete priestess training to create a proper barrier or summon shikigami like Kikyo did many times. She brushed the feeling away. The last thing she needed now was a breach of her mind protection.

More creatures arrived as she walked. She must be getting somewhere important, she thought. That's when tentacles appeared. Several of them went in the same direction.  Kagome quickened her steps. The creatures got agitated. They no longer tried to stay in the shadows. 

Vecna stood above the ground, connected to the tentacles. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem fazed by her presence. Kagome tried getting closer but the creatures jumped on her. At the last second, she closed her eyes and severed the connection.

Kagome almost fell from the couch when she woke up. Had it not been for Eddie's arm around her shoulder keeping her in place, she would be kissing the floor. He didn't stir when she removed her head from his lap, and neither did the other occupants of the basement. 

Not long after, Nancy came down the stairs with Dustin, announcing they were going to the Creel’s house. They asked Kagome how she felt after being out cold for so many hours, but she didn’t find the right words to comment on her thoughts yet. There was too much and too little information to work with.

“Are you sure you were here?” asked Eddie once they separated into groups of two. 

Stained glass with roses. Creel’s house front door. Kagome gasped when they mentioned it. She recalled the previous day; seeing Vecna, hearing Running Up That Hill, then walking through that red-painted world. The same locations Max described Kagome have been at. Now everything clicked. Somehow, when Vecna was trying to absorb Max, he found a way to block Kagome from reaching the girl, but the path was left open once Max got away. 

“Yeah, it’s exactly the same, minus all the dust,” she answered. 

Eddie removed a spider web from a door before Kagome crossed it.

“That, my friend, is bait. Vecna is trying to bring you to his realm where he has the upper hand. Hear me out: you are the wild card in his game. He wasn’t expecting that someone could sense him, much less someone that isn’t scared of him or affected by his powers. He’s either trying to figure you out or removing you from the picture.” Eddie stopped and turned to face Kagome. “I don’t wanna see you getting hurt.”

“I could feel you." Kagome smiled. "When I went back to Vecna’s domain, I could feel your hand on me. I just know that if something happens you will be able to pull me back.”

“You shouldn’t put so much faith in me.”

“Why? Will you leave me behind?”

“No! Never.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about. Anyway, you shouldn’t be worrying about me when you have Jason and his minions hunting you down. My powers don't work on humans.”

“He will have to find me first, princess.”

#inuyasha #inuyasha crossover #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things crossover #kagome higurashi #eddie munson #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover fanfic #crossover pairing

[drakenology]

Bully!Dabi laughing and making fun about a school girl big tiddies😳 it's as if the buttons on your uniform blouse are going to explode at any moment, and Dabi love make you feel bad about it

 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈

“baby, can you meet me tonight in detention?” 

MDNI

tw: non-con (yeah ik crazy right? i’m taking that out of my rules so feel free to request now.) , bullying, third year aged, mean!dabi, creep!dabi?, boobjob, cumplay, degradation, raw sex and public sex

A/N: hi hiii, this is a lovely request that I literally started writing as soon as I got it. Thank you nonnie for sending this in and as always enjoy!

You tried to keep them hidden whenever you saw him walking through the halls with his asshole entourage. But oversized sweaters, hoodies and cardigans never did the trick. Dabi always ended up seeing them, practically bursting through your school blouse after an administrator would yell at you to get into proper uniform. He was ruthless, grabbing your shirt and popping it open by the buttons to expose your large breasts. He’d laugh at you as you go to cover yourself up with the remnants of your blouse, poking and prodding at the exposed skin of your breasts. He’d pinch your cheeks as you become flustered, smirking and leaning in close to you.

“What? They were gonna come out anyways. Stupid tits were practically opening your shirt for you. Thought I’d give ‘em a hand.” He mocked, squeezing your breasts as he pinned you to a nearby locker. You snatch away from him and run away to the bathroom to fix your blouse, tears stinging in your eyes from the embarrassment of it all. The rest of your day was full of shame as everyone stared at your ripped blouse, administration granting you detention for violating dress code for the second time today. 

At the end of the day, you stay behind in class, watching as everyone chats their way out the classroom doors to return home for the evening. All the other students who were to stay for detention come trudging inside; Dabi included to your displeasure. You shuffle in your seat out of discomfort, pulling your sweater down further and holding it in between stern fists as if it were to fly up at any second to reveal your breasts to the whole class. Dabi winks at you after sitting directly across from you, softly mooing at you to insinuate that you were a cow. 

“I see they made you cover up those udders, fat tits. What were you thinking walking around with your tits hanging out? This is a school you know.” He says to you at a low tone of voice, talking not allowed in detention. You try and ignore him, scribbling on your notebook as you try and concentrate on your homework. Dabi sits slouched in his seat, writing something on a piece of paper and balling it up to throw it at your head. You glare over at him, the paper ball falling onto your desk in front of you. You open it and see that it’s a note. 

“Meet me on the roof, fat tits.” it read, hand-writing just as childish as he is. You roll your eyes and crumple up the note, standing to go to throw it in the trash. Dabi smirks, sitting up in his seat to raise his hand. 

“Yo, teach. I gotta piss. Can I use the bathroom?” He asks, chuckling to himself when the administrator grants him another two weeks detention for his foul language. 

“Ask correctly or ‘piss’ on yourself, Mr. Todoroki.” He spits, returning to his book. Dabi sighs, rolling his eyes before caving in. 

“Fine. May I please use the restroom, sir?” He asks once more, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He stands once he has permission, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be waiting, utters." He taunts, poking your chest before walking out of the room. You sit for a while, stirring in confusion. Do you go outside to see what he wants or do you stay seated and let him wait for nothing. You sigh and raise your hand, politely asking to use the restroom too. The administrator, uninterested at this point waves you away and returns to his book. You shuffle out of the room and walk upstairs to the roof of the school where Dabi stood by the metal fences barricading the ledge.

"Ah. So nice of you to meet with me, fat tits." Dabi smirks, pulling you up to him by the arm. You groan, shuddering at his touch in disgust.

"What do you want, Touya?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest unconsciously; a defense mechanism you've picked up dealing with him over the years.

"Haven't you heard the saying? A guy who picks on you also has a crush on you." Dabi hints, pulling your arms away from your chest, lifting your sweater up to expose your pretty bra. You shriek, trying to cover yourself up again only for your hands to be pinned above your head against the wall. 

“So your excuse for treating me like shit is because you’ve got some sick crush on me?” You spat, yet unable to be completely furious as his lips meet yours in a hot and sticky kiss you can’t seem to shake. His tongue slips into your mouth to travel around inside, pulling away with a single string of spit as you pant. You hated him but, fuck, why did he have to be such a good kisser?

“You’ve always been my favorite little toy. Wanna know why?” He asks, leaning in to kiss and lick the skin of your neck. You stifle a moan, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s turning you on. 

“Why?” You choke, cheeks burning as his cold hands travel up the sides of your frame.

“These.” He answers, his hands pulling your breasts out of the cups of your bra, hissing at the sight of your pretty nipples. He takes one in his mouth, smirking against your skin when you start to moan helplessly. Your thighs press together as your panties start to soak with slick, Dabi noticing his effect on you quickly. 

“P-Please stop..” You whisper desperately, looking into Dabi’s crystal blue eyes with a mixture of lust and uncertainty. He grins, knowing deep down you want him too, whether you said it words or not. His hands travel up your thighs and between your legs, forcing them open to prod his fingers at the growing wet spot on your panties. 

“Heh.. I don’t think you want me to stop, do you? God, look how sloppy you are already.” He retorts, yanking your panties down and hiking up your skirt to further expose you. He reaches down to unbutton and unzip his own pants to let his length spring free, your eyes locking onto his bright red head as it leaked with pre-cum. 

“Help me out with this, will ya, doll?” He asks, hands caressing your face as you lead you onto the concrete ground. As you sat on your knees, your hands wiping away a stray tear that streams down your cheek. You pull out your breasts a bit further, taking Dabi’s cock in between them and stroking it slowly beneath your cleavage. Dabi sighs out, his head handing back as he ruts his hips upward to match your pace. 

“Fuck, just like that. If only you could see how slutty you look.” Dabi groans, voice slightly hoarse as you get him off with your breasts. You groan when you feel his cock start to throb against your skin, half of you disgusted and the rest of you turned on beyond belief as you watch him writhe in pleasure from the very breasts he teased and made fun of so harshly. 

“Fuck, stand up.” Dabi demands, practically yanking you up on your feet by your arm and pinning you against the metal fence behind you.  Not caring enough to prep you before, he pushes himself inside your weeping pussy; starting his thrusts at a brutal pace. You cry out, your moans echoing through the vast space of the empty roof of the school. Dabi’s hand comes up to cover your mouth as his hips moved faster, wet slapping causing him to groan.

“Ya like that, huh slut? Like being stuffed full at school don’t you?” Dabi asks, expecting an answer out of you after he uncovers your drooling and mewling mouth,“You’re mine. Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” 

“”M yours, Touya!” You gasp, feeling the delicious head of his cock brush against your favorite spot with reckless abandon as it blurs your reasoning. You feel your slick spill down your thighs as he ruts into you from behind, his balls slapping up against your swollen clit only adding to the sinful pleasure you were feeling. You almost can’t believe you’re being fucked by your bully on the roof as your hands cling to the metal barb-wired fence you were pinned against, feeling Dabi’s hands reach up and grab your breasts from behind to pull you back onto his cock with fervor. Animalistic growls leave his lips as he pinches and teases your nipples, huffing obscenities into your ear. 

“That’s right you fucking whore, take my cock like a good little slut.” He growls as he uses your pussy like he owns you, his cock throbbing inside you as he threatens to cum inside you, “Gonna make you mine forever, yeah? Sound good, slut?” You shake your head no, your body language telling a different tale as you feel your legs get so weak you can hardly stand on your own as Dabi holds you up by your neck. 

His hand squeezes around your throat as he cums thick inside you, your gooey cunt fluttering around his cock as you follow shortly behind him. You pant and sob as you come down from your high, Dabi continuing to use your pussy until every drop of his cum is deep inside you; even going the extra mile to scoop up whatever remnants of his cum that leaked from you with his fingers and shoving them into your mouth with a satisfied groan. 

“Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Dabi smirks, taking your panties from the ground and handing them to you with a smug look in his eye. You take them and slide them up over your legs and put them back on with a sniffle, ashamed of what you’ve done with him yet strangely satisfied as your cunt still clenches and throbs around nothing after the fact. Confusion stirs within your mind, your thighs trembling as you sat on the bench and watched Dabi walk down the stairs once more. 

After you wait for Dabi to walk back downstairs to the detention room, you follow behind shortly after, folding your legs as you feel Dabi’s cum start to spill out and onto your panties. He smirks over at you, leaning back into his seat as he passes another note to you. 

“Let’s do that again tomorrow, fat tits. You’re fun ;)”

#dabi smut #bnha smut #.royal requests 👑📜 #bakugo smut #bnha izuku smut #bnha todoroki smut #bnha kirishima smut #bnha shinsou

[twdsunshine]

‘Thanks for nothing, I guess.’ (Negan x Reader)

Requested by Anon.

His lips were like velvet, soft and smooth, the pressure of them moving against yours measured, not too forceful, just enough to let you know that he was in charge, driving things forward at his own pace.  His stubble chafed deliciously against the sensitive skin of your cheeks and chin, contrasting sensations heightening your ecstasy as large hands moved skilfully over your body, pressing and kneading and coaxing tiny whimpers from your throat when he finally broke away to draw breath.  It seemed strange to you that, just days ago, you hadn’t even known this man that was now playing you like an instrument, one he had tuned to perfection.  He had strolled into your life in a whirlwind of swagger and cocky claims and turned it upside down and, where first your instinct had been to watch and wait until he made a mistake and gave you an opening to steal away anything on his person that could be of use, you’d realised that actually he had far more to offer than material gain.  

You’d been holed up in the ramshackle cabin, deep in the Virginia countryside, for around a year, and during that time you’d rarely seen another living person.  Things with your last group had ended badly, and you’d been forced to slip away in the night, taking as many of their supplies as you could reasonably carry, and you were in no hurry to repeat the experience, and so you built a new life on your own.  Still, it had grown lonely quickly, and when the door of your home had been flung back against the wall, allowing a tall, lean figure to stumble inside, before slamming it closed behind him, you’d been more curious than you had afraid.  His broad chest had been heaving with ragged breaths, a blood-spattered, barbed wire-wrapped baseball bat swinging from his fingers, and you’d simply arched a brow at him from where you sat at one end of the sagging couch, waiting for him to introduce himself and apologise for the rude interruption.

‘Shit, doll, I thought this place was abandoned.  Had a fuckin’ herd on my ass but I think I ditched ‘em back at the road.’  His voice had been deep and syrupy, honey over gravel, and your silence had forced him to continue.  ‘I’m Negan.  You got a name, sweetheart?’

‘Y/N,’ you replied, rolling to your feet and making your way towards him, unhurriedly.  ‘You could at least have knocked.  And you’re dripping blood all over my floor.’

How you’d got from that moment to this in just a few short days was a long story of shared confidences, soup sipped beside an open fire, lingering glances and a simmering heat that seemed to spark between you the first time that his fingers had brushed yours.  Now, as you writhed beneath him, you gave yourself over to him completely, hoping that this was a beginning, that he would take you back with him to a community that you knew he ruled over with an iron fist.  You’d never thought of yourself as a first lady as such, but you couldn’t deny that the role held an appeal.  All of the perks and none of the responsibility?  It sounded like a sweet deal that you were in no position to turn down, especially when it came with the added bonus of the slim-hipped man that was hovering over you as he watched you come undone.

‘I want this,’ you whispered when he’d finally pulled away, rolling to lay at your side, sweat-slick and sated.  ‘Want you.  Want us.  You’ll take me with you when you leave, won’t you?  Back to your place?  I don’t want to let you go.’

For a moment, he considered you, dark eyes combing over your face as if memorising every minute detail painted over your skin.  And then he laughed, loud and booming.  ‘You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, doll.  Goddamn!  Do I look like a fool to you?’

Your jaw dropped.  ‘But… Negan, I- I thought we… I thought you liked me.’

‘Sweetheart, you’re a blast, I’m not denying that.  Past few days have been one hell of a wild ride.’  His voice dropped as he leaned close to whisper in your ear.  ‘But if you think for one second that I’m gonna trust you enough to take you back and let you loose on my fuckin’ people?  Shit, doll, I must’ve pounded that twisted little brain o’ yours right the hell outta you.’

He left soon after, dressing at a lazy pace that had anger pulsing through your veins, though you weren’t stupid enough to try to take him on.  You’d felt the muscles concealed by his wiry frame now, flexing beneath your fingers, seen the skill with which he wielded his weapon.  This was a fight you couldn’t win.  

He’d stooped to kiss you at the door, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder, eyes flashing with mirth.  ‘Thank you, doll, for a beautiful weekend.’

‘Yeah.’  You pulled away, unable to bear the feel of him now or the smirk that quirked his lips.  ‘Thanks for nothing, I guess.’

He whistled as he walked away.

#the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead drabbles #twd fanfiction #twd drabbles #negan #negan fanfiction #negan drabbles #negan x reader #covid drabbles

[shimmershae]

Okay. So I did one of these wish lists last season and got gifted way more than I ever could have anticipated so I thought why not do it again?

Shae’s wish list for Season 11.  

Putting it under a cut because it’s long and rambling.  And it will probably be revised and/or added to whenever the mood strikes me.  

Things I want to see in Season 11:  

 The actual episode.  Why the hell does everything have to be so dark in the literal sense?  

Carol and Daryl to have an epic reunion that will totally blow the reunion in the woods outside of Terminus out of the water.  C’mon.  It really feels like the stage is being set for it and you know Angela loves her callbacks.  What better moment to revisit than this one?  The one where we all just knew these two were embarking on something new (only they didn’t, not in the way we’d hoped)?  Like, it’s a seemingly insurmountable task but I know Norman and Melissa have it in them again.  The real question is:  do the writers?  

Judith and RJ bonding with Aunt Carol and her telling them stories of the old days and all the people they didn’t get to meet.  What better way to foster our nostalgia and make us remember why we fell in love with this show and its characters in the first place?  

More Carol and Dog because those scenes in Diverged were the epitome of precious. 

More Princess.  Princess’s “meet and greets” with all our community members, yes.  But Princess’s first meeting and assessment of Carol and Daryl.  Methinks she’d have something mighty interesting and enlightening to say.  

All this angst for Daryl and Carol eventually building to a head and Kang finally delivering on that “heart to heart” she mentioned what feels like a million and one years ago. 

Aaron and Gracie scenes because Aaron is such a good daddy, ya’ll.  

Rosita continuing to have significant screen time and not having to step back into the shadows just because Maggie is back.

Speaking of, I’m glad Maggie is back.  I really am. For the simple fact that Baby Hershel is the cutest alone.  But I’m not happy that everybody so far seems so ready to just defer to her when they’ve been perfectly fine making it without her.  That is not okay and that shit needs to stop soon-ish.   

Hershel making fast friends with Judith and RJ and Gracie and all the Jabila kids.  They’re the next generation, ya’ll.  I just really need this.  

More Jerry and Nabila, please.  Because I have a special soft spot for my Jabila.  

Jerry and Ezekiel scenes.  Because Jerry is Ezekiel’s person and the truest bond he has on the show.  

Kelly and Lydia striking up a friendship because Kelly’s a sweet cinnamon roll and Lydia is in desperate need of friends.  

More scenes of Lydia, period, and not just her seeking out Negan because they both feel like outcasts.  Lydia was raised in Hell.  Negan wreaked Hell.  It’s different and I don’t appreciate the heavy-handedness of Angela trying to make Negan into something he has no right to be.  Leave him at an antihero if you must persist but stop trying to convince us he’s earned his place as a good guy because he hasn’t.  JDM may have risen to the challenge of making him a much more compelling, shades of gray character these past two seasons, but Negan is still the guy that gleefully bashed Glenn’s head in with a barb-wire wrapped baseball bat and if he’s not going to show remorse about it?  The least he can do is show the common sense not to go out of his way to antagonize Maggie.

Kelly reuniting with Connie and Carol getting to have a hand in doing in.  Some acknowledgment from Connie that she chose to go back into the cave with Magna would be nice but ultimately not necessary because I don’t think Connie blames Carol at all.  

Dog surviving the season unscathed and getting all the cuddles he deserves.  

The not-so-rosy truth about Leah being exposed and Daryl making his choice clear once and for all.  Spoiler alert?  Leah doesn’t even rank.  

I’d love the fake dating/fake marriage trope to be trotted out at the good old Commonwealth with Carol and Daryl because I think it would be so much freaking fun and hey. If Kang is going to continue to give us fanfic (unknown child, a la Rick and Michonne), why not try out a true blue?

Some freaking clue as to why/how Rosita and Father Gabe hooked up.  Like I just don’t get it, especially when you consider Siddiq was RIGHT THERE.  The amount of distrust Rosita and the rest of Team Family had in him back in the early days of their arriving in Alexandria.  I just find it hard to wrap my mind around this relationship when it wasn’t even on the radar pre-time jump. 

That said, Father Gabe did have a great scene with Judith in (what was then) the Season Finale where he gave her a message for Rosita and I did find it touching.  So I dunno, ya’ll.  I could be persuaded.  But not all that easily.  

Some resolution to the whole Virgil thing.  Talk about your random characters in the right place at the right/wrong time.  Him promising his wife flowers every day touched me but come the fuck on. 

More Carol and Lydia scenes and more Carol and Kelly scenes because Carol with these young ladies gives me life.  You know what?  Carol getting to interact with and have friendship with any and all of the ladies gives me life and should be a regular thing.  Like TPTB missed the opportunity of a lifetime having Carol and Michonne sharing all kinds of bonding scenes.  It would have been so poignant to watch them relate to each other over their lost children.  

Can we please get some Commonwealth scenes where the kids of Alexandria learn how to be actual kids?  I mean, not that they aren’t already, but I’d love to see them have the chance to be carefree and have fun.  You know, though, that Jude is definitely going to be a tough little nut to crack, and she’s always going to be keeping one eye open for trouble.

Speaking of Commonwealth, I’d love to see all our faves dolled up, lol.  Yes, it’s a rather shallow wish, but can you imagine Carol in a simple but beautiful dress and Daryl utterly tongue-tied to the point that the kids--Lydia, Judith, and RJ--just start giggling uncontrollably and Carol and Daryl both blush?  Because I can and it is glorious.   

Let the villains villain.  Not everyone needs to be redeemed.  Some people are just too far gone.

You know what?  It’s past time to let Carol in particular unpack some of her trauma and cast it aside so she can move on that future Daryl keeps reminding her they have.  She and Daryl are way overdue for a heart to heart where she just opens up a vein and lets it all flow.  It’s the only way she’s going to be able to heal and move on, IMHO.

Some indication that Rick and Michonne and the Grimes babies and the rest of their family (Carol, Daryl, etc.) are going to be reunited. 

The promise of at least a chance of a happy ending for everyone we’ve watched and loved these last 10+ years.  

There’s more.  There’s always more, lol.  But that’s enough for now.  As I think of things I just really, really need to see?  I’ll come back to this list.  Because hey.  Like I said.  I did one of these for Season 10 and I got way more of them than I ever could have anticipated so.        

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 hopes and wishes and dreams #Caryl #Carol x Daryl #Carol Peletier #Daryl Dixon #really all of our faves #I want this season to be so emotionally satisfying #not devastating #sometimes those two things can be one and the same #sometimes nah #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

[coffeecakefanfics]

A moments glance | B.B x Fem!Reader

Requests are open!!!!!

Summary: Bucky misses the feeling of human connection, both emotional and physical, so does Y/N. After a particularly brutal mission the two can deny their want any longer 

Warnings:  Language, angst? SMUT! (probably badly written but oh well)  This fic is a lot longer than I wanted but it’s worth it I promise.

Missions are normally pretty easy.  Luckily it was the dream team that got stuck on this mission together.  Sam, Bucky, and Y/n stood around a base layout, making a plan as to how to get this mission to sail smoothly. It was a simple job, repo a plane that had been stolen and return it to the owners, aka the fucking US Military. 

“So Y/n has pilot knowledge so if we can get through the fence and to it she can fly it back here to base, easy,” Sam explained the plan to the soldiers. 

“Sam and Bucky will go with me as my second hands and eyes, be my body guards,” Y/n nodded and looked up. “This is an easy job so it shouldn’t take long, maybe a couple hours, but stay on standby in case force is needed,” the woman stood straight and tapped her fingers on the table.  The crew split into the groups, taking their places.  Sam sat in the drivers seat of the car while Y/n sat in the front and Bucky was stuck in the back. 

“We’re here, everyone ready?” Sam asked and threw the car in park.

“Are we ever ready?” Bucky snarked and stepped out.  The three were greeted by a fence with barbed wire across the top. 

“Can we break it down?” Bucky looked between the two.

“That my dear would be destruction of property, a charge none of us can afford right now,” She huffed and opened the backseat, pulling the floor mat out. 

“What the hell are you doing with that?” Sam looked at the girl as if she was crazy.

“Throwing the mat over the wire?” she furrowed her brow and tossed the mat over the fence and scaled it. 

“Coming? or am I leaving you two dummies for the birds?” she smirked. 

“Ha ha very funny,” Sam snarked back. 

“This guy,” she smiled playfully at Bucky, who in return smiled back, a small one, but a smile. 

“There she is, look at this beauty,” Y/n motioned to the plane.  The three climbed in, starting the engine. 

“Bucky once we’re in the air I want you to contact the air force and tell them their plane is on it’s way,” she spoke calmly as she started down the runway. She was setting up controls when Bucky’s voice broke their silence. 

“Uh guys? I think we got company,” a black SUV sped down the runway, stopping before two guys stepped out wielding guns. 

“Pull up!” Sam yelled the girl.

“I’m trying,” she yelled back, the plane getting closer before finally taking off. The firing followed them up into the air. 

“Looks like we’re clear,” Y/n took a breath.

“There’s probably a reason they didn’t want us taking the plane,” Bucky commented.

“If I had to guess, drugs, I mean the air force tests flights so much that nobody bats an eye, especially at fort carson,” the woman nodded. “Sam can you check all of the compartments?” she looked back at him. 

“Yeah, of course,” he tipped his head and began opening the compartments lining the walls, bags of cocaine spilled out of an overhead bin.

“Oh shit, that’s thousands of dollars worth of hard drugs right there,” she peered back at the mess.

“yeah no shit, what do we do?” 

“Get on the comms and alert them of what’s happening”

“on it” 

The blaring sound took over their voices. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked

“We’re losing altitude, buckle in for a crash landing”

“I’m sorry what?!”

“Do it!” she barked “Sam jump and get to the base, let them know what happened, go now!” she was barking orders at them.  

“I’ll hurry back” Sam called and jumped, catching wind just in time.

“So what are we just going to die?”

“No, not if I can help it. But we are going to have to drop into the mountains, so hold on to something,” she gave him a sympathetic look.  The plane crashed down into the mountain, losing the wings in the process.  The two climbed out, seemingly unharmed. 

“So what are we just going to sit here and wait?” Bucky looked at the girl.

“I’m afraid so, we can’t risk moving, they won’t find us,” she huffed and slumped against an aspen tree.

“Great,” Bucky huffed and sat across from her, against a fallen pine log.  The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the ringing in their ears taking over. 

“Have you ever been this far west?” Y/n asked. Bucky peeked up at her. Sighing he tossed a rock to his left. 

“No, at least, not that I can recall,” he looked back at the dirt. 

“It’s pretty, Pikes peak is worth the view, if you ever get to go,” she cleared her throat, awkwardness settling in. 

“You been?”

“Yeah, I uh, I grew up here, in springs, that’s why I knew about the fort carson stuff.  They always test fly and they take kids for rides sometimes.  also teach kids how to pilot when they reach a certain age,” she trailed off. 

“Military brat?” 

“Yeah” 

“I never knew that,” he looked at her, really looked at her.  He noticed how she sat with her knees up, but her shoulders slumped.  Her she chewed on the inside of her lip.

“I never really told anyone,” she shrugged,”You know we have worked on the same team for I don’t know how many years and yet I feel like I hardly know you,” she remarked. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“I don’t really open up to people, it’s not something I do,” it was his turn to chew on his lip.

“I get it, you up walls, try and protect yourself. . .”she trailed off, a soft rustling in the brush caught her attention. She held her finger to her lips and slowly stood, Bucky following her move.  The two crouched and ducked behind some bush.

“They couldn’t have gotten far, move,” a mans voice barked. Y/n looked at Bucky with wide eyes.  Bucky scanned the are before nodding to a path, they crept their way over, carful not to make too much noise. One they had gotten far enough away they stood straight and starting sprinting.  

“The guys that hijacked the plane?” She asked.

“That’s my guess,” he shrugged. 

“Bucky I need to stop,” she panted, trying to catch her breath.

“We’re probably far enough away,” he slowed to a stop.  

“I’m sorry,” she took a ragged breath

“It’s fine, not all of us are, what do you like to say? built different,” he cracked a smile.  Y/n smiled back at him before they broke off into laughter.

“You remembered that dumb saying?”

“I try to remember them all, I’m trying to make my place in this world, and if that means learning the lingo then I guess I have to”

“Must be hard,” she stood next to him, “trying to get used to this”

“you have no ide-” a gunshot and a scream of pain cut him off. His eyes shot in the direction of the shot before landing on the girl, crumpled on the forest floor. 

“Shit” he scooped her up and started sprinting west. 

“Shit shit shit, hey doll, if you can hear me keep  your eyes open you hear,” he peeked down at her. She was clutching her stomach.

“Tell me something, tell me about, tell me about your house of a kid,” he scrambled to find anything to talk about.  

“yellow,” she breathed,” it was yellow” He caught sight of a cave and ducked into it. 

“keep going”

“It had, two floors and an attic, the uh, the upstairs had a balcony,” she took deep breaths.  Bucky pulled out a knife and cut the bottom of his shirt, putting pressure on his wound. 

“Bucky?” she looked at him as close as she could

“yeah?”

“What was your favorite part about the forties?”

He laughed. “The stupid dive bars, going dancing,” he thought for a second.

“Were you any good?” Y/n teased.

“Oh please, look at me, I was the best,” he said, jokingly cocky. The silence took over.  The only sound was a ragged breath every now and then.  Y/n Held her phone up. 

“Nothing,” she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Bucky?” She got his attention.

“yeah Y/n? what’s up?”

“If i’m going to die today, can I at least get to know you before I go?” she asked

“Listen to me, and you listen to me good, you ain’t dying today got it?” he spoke sharply, but with concern laced and weaved in his voice. 

“In my jacket is a pack of matched, I saw some twigs and pinecones at the opening of the cave, grab them, make a fire, please, i’m freezing,” she pleaded.  Bucky didn’t say anything as he obliged.  The small fire illuminated the walls, but was small enough that they wouldn’t be spotted.  Bucky sat across from Y/n, he watched as she scanned the walls. 

“Mica,” she spoke plainly. 

“Yeah, ton of the shit too,” he kind of huffed, looking around.

“They used to make windows out of it, for cars and shit, also dry wall, but most importantly it used for stuff like spark plugs,and electronic components like compasses during world war 2 ” she stated, half heartedly. Bucky looked at the girl shocked.

“Yeah, thats- how’d you know that?”

“Grandpa fought in the war, told me all kinds of stories before he passed, also taught me about minerals and stuff before he passed too, he and dad used to take me camping, they’d teach me how to hunt, farm, fish, find and purify water, which berries and shrooms are good to eat, case I ever got lost,” she laughed and winced at the pain.  “I miss them,” she sighed.

“Those are good skills to have,” Bucky smiled at her. He went silent.  It had been a few hours, no sign of anyone.  He looked at Y/n, she didn’t look great, she was pale, she was growing tired. He didn’t want her to be miserable, or to die not knowing him. 

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, I was born March 10th 1917, I have a younger sister named Rebecca, we called her Becca,” He spoke up.  Y/n looked at him with a smile and nodded him on to continue, “I’ve always wanted a cat, and if I could have kids i’d want a daughter, I’d name her Scarlett,” he stammers on. The young woman listens attentively.  Her breathing became slower, more strained. 

“no no no, don’t fucking die on me,” he jumped over to her, clutching her wound. “Please, I barley know you, I want to know more,” he pleaded.  She smiled at him and held her blood soaked hand to his cheek. 

“thank you,” she husked before her eyes rolled back. 

“No!” he yelled.

“Bucky?!” Sam, it was Sam, and the air force.  Bucky was pulled away as they loaded Y/n onto the chopper and raced her back to base.  Hot tears slipped down his face as the world seemed to slow down.  His connection, the one person he started to open up to was ripped from his arms, just as the walls came tumbling down. 

He sat pacing the hospital room, her body laid limp in the bed, unmoving, just as it had for the past two days.  The nurses tried to get him to go home, but after the third shift change and his protests to stay after visiting hours they gave up.  He stared out the window, looking to the mountains, they were still capped with snow.  He remembers her saying she was freezing, he recognizes that feeling now.  Cold, unmoving, dead.

“Hey champ,” a hoarse voice spoke in the room. He spun on his heels, Her eyes were opened, still droopy from the pain killer, but opened. 

“Thank god you’re okay,” he yanked a chair beside her and clutched her hand.

“I should’ve believed you,” she cracked a smile, Bucky felt his eyes well. Why? He still barely knew her. 

“My name is Y/n L/n I was born (your birthday), I have no siblings, I have always wanted a dog and if I had a kid i’d want a little boy named Matthew,” she squeezed his hand slightly.

“Good morning,” another womans voice broke the room with a knock. “I’m your nurse for this morning, my name is Sarah Good, yes like the book the crucible and i’ll take care of you till 7 tonight,” she smiled at the two brightly. “Todays agenda, always will be on the board, we want to get you to be able to be in a sitting position, and we want to start PT, or physicsl therapy if we can, We’re going to try and get you a real lunch today, and if we’re lucky you can get off those iv’s by tomorrow”

The last week was rough, But Bucky sat beside her through it all, they talked about life, about death, the world, every little thing they could think of.  When she was released it was Bucky who escorted her back across the country to home.  Sam met them at her apartment for diner and a toast to a job not so smooth for the dream team, now stronger that all three had a bond.  Sam had left about an hour ago, Bucky insisted on staying to help clean up. 

“Bucky, really this is too much to ask, it’s fine,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s the least I can do”

“It’s late, do you want to stay? I mean I can take the couch and you can take my bed it-”

“I’m not taking your bed doll, I’ll take the couch if you really want me to stay but it’s not a problem for me to go home,” he smiled at her and set the last plate in the dish washer. 

“I kind of got used to you staying around,” she blushed. “We can watch a movie?” she offered.

“Sounds great”

They weren’t paying attention to the movie, well at least they pretended to,  Each watched the other out of the corner of their eyes. It was Y/n who made the first move, leaning her head on his shoulder, Bucky tucked his arm around the woman, inching her closer.  She felt her face get hot, she peered up at him to find him looking back, they ripped their eyes apart and both went flush. 

“Bucky-

Y/n I-” they spoke at the same time, letting out a laugh. 

“Go first,” he insisted. 

“No, it’s fine,” she stammered. 

“Y/n I- I really like you, I’m glad I let down my walls for you,” he swallowed the lump in his throat.  She felt her breath hitch. 

“I was going to say the same thing,” she spoke, barely above a whisper.  It hadn’t occurred to the couple just how close they were to each other.  Y/n felt Bucky’s breath dance across her face. 

“Can I. . . can I kiss you?” he breathed out.  She sim-ply nodded and met his lips, soft and delicate at first before he set his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in.  Her  lips were intoxicating, he could get drunk on her. She let a moan slip as he pulled her into his lap gently. He felt his eyes roll at the sound. She ground into his lap, letting the feeling of his growing bulge tease her. She laced her fingers in his short hair, gently tugging where she could, causing a groan and for him to buck his hip to meet hers.  Y/n pulled back panting, trying to catch her breath before moving her lips to meet his neck.

“Y/n doll, I uh- it’s been a while,” he panted and fought the moans that threatened to leave his throat.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you?” she caught his eyes.  Her face was pure, innocent, but her words were laced with lust. He nodded and let his hands grip her hips.  She tugged his shirt off of his body, decorating his chest with kisses, working and inching her way to his hips.  She looked up at him, he was a mess, head laid back, breathing ragged.  She carefully undid his pants and slid them down his legs.  catching the skin above his hip bones she left a small purple mark on either side, claiming him as hers.  He had looked down at her now, catching her eyes.  She licked her lips before taking him into her mouth, The moan he let rip from vocal cords was ungodly. 

“Fuck, doll I -” he let his eyes meet hers, still laced with innocence, before groaning and throwing his head back.  He let his air out in puffs as she worked him over.  Her touch was delicate and sweet, he forgot how nice it felt, to be taken care of, to be treated with kindness. She let her fingers slip to cup his balls, gently playing with them as she let her pretty mouth suck his cock. The sight was straight out of a wet dream, 

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he pleaded, grabbing her hair with his flesh hand, clutching the couch with the metal one.  The small breaths he let out only encouraged him further, she picked up her pace, daring him to cum down her throat.  A string of fucks and his hips tensing, and slowly relaxing followed soon after.  She caught his eyes, swallowing what he gave her and grinning at him.

“Holy-”

“Yeah,” she smiled. 

“Let me return the favor baby,” he pulled her back into his lap.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reade

[bangtancentricsblog]

paint it black

❍ pairing: jungkook x reader

❍ verse: red and white

❍ word count: 1.4k +

warnings/disclosures: angst, a tiny dash of fluff and a pinch of backstory I guess but please let me know if I missed anything that could be triggering!

〚prev • next〛

It’s unusually slow this afternoon; the sun shines through the windows casting a warm glow across the parlor. Yoongi is almost done with his shift, which means Namjoon will be coming in soon, but there’s something that feels off. Almost like a little tickle of unease that settles over you as the day grows longer, the sun no longer warming your skin as you sit behind the reception counter. The parlor is mostly silent except for the familiar hum of the tattoo machines, Jungkook is halfway through a three hour session and Yoongi should be nearly done with his client. It leaves you alone and mostly bored as the last of their clients waits for their appointments, though do you really have any room to say you're bored when you were just making out with your boyfriend in the restroom not too long ago? You sigh distractedly, thinking of the way he pulled you onto his lap, big hands roaming your body touching you like a man starved.

There’s this strange forcefulness to the way Jungkook touches you as of late, it leaves your brain foggy, almost hazy with this need to keep him close, one that keeps the fire burning until it swallows you up leaving nothing left but the dying embers of your need. Sweaty bodies entangled in the most intimate of ways, because like this you are vulnerable to the soft press of Jungkook's fingers smoothing over the heated flesh he'd bruised with his grip. The little pinpricks of tingles that shoot up your arm and settle at the bottom of your spine that have you squirming closer to him, there in the comfort of your bedroom does he trace the delicate lines of ink much the same way you would; except this one is special because it matches his own put there by his own hands. Couples tattoos were cliche, a little corny too but he'd looked so happy to show you what he'd drawn up for you and Jungkook was just as corny as they got, a loved up boy with nothing but softness and romance hidden beneath all that ink and black clothing. Because there on paper sat a single rose delicate but intricate with vines and leaves all wrapped together like barbed wire but much more beautiful.

It held no color, but the sentiment remained and he'd happily inked it onto your skin upon your approval. Jungkooks works were always beautiful (biased or not), his love for his work clear in the detail he put into each and every one of his pieces. You're so lost in your thoughts you don't hear the bell ring as someone new comes in, it takes them a few tries to get your attention, soft voice filling your ears and bringing your gaze to them or rather should you say her. She's pretty, though the voice in your head screams she doesn't belong here and all at once the tickle of unease drowns you, filling your lungs until they feel like cement. There's this tiny sound ringing in your ears; a gasp maybe, no not quite, it sounds more strangled, a wheeze, your mind provides and it's coming from you it seems. You feel a strong hand on your shoulder, your unfocused gaze settling once they land on Yoongi who looks concerned, his words drowned out underneath the rushing of blood in your ears.

‘‘You feeling okay?’’ he asks once the furrow of your brow has relaxed.

‘‘Are you wrapping up?’’ you say instead, moving to the register to charge the client Yoongi’s just finished up with while he beckons the other over with a wave of his hand leaving you alone again with a reassuring pat on the back. The girl stands to the side watching with wide eyes as you stare back at her. You have this nagging urge to chase her out the door, but why, you can’t quite say, instead you clear your throat glancing at the clock before speaking.

“Hi, how can I help you?” She brightens just slightly, her smile spreading in a way that one would wax poetics about but makes your stomach turn.

“Yes, would I need to book an appointment to get a piercing?” She asks, her voice lilting in a girlish fashion that grates on your ears.

“Give me just a second.” You mutter, thumbing through paper work that’s been thrown in a basket for sorting. Some are consultations appointments, others are forms that need to be put away, though at the very bottom you find a few piercing forms quickly handing one to her on a clipboard along with a pen.

“Piercings don't usually require appointments, so fill this out please and you can hand that to me when you're done.” you supply easily though your mind still screams that she's a threat, that you shouldn't even be giving her the time to make herself comfortable in a place that you've already staked your claim. You try your hardest not to focus on her too much, but somehow your gaze falls back to her form. She’s pretty in a way that you could only dream of being, all the features that make someone outwardly pretty whereas you had to work to even be okay with your looks. Her frame was petite with thin everything, in a way that you remember wishing you could’ve been but that just hadn’t been written in the stars. She was what you had always been led to believe all men wanted, petite doll-like and perfect, she was everything you weren’t and it made this cold anger simmer just under the surface of your skin. You faintly register sharp pops followed by a small pinch that makes you flinch out of your thoughts, a sound you realize comes from Jungkook as he stretches his arms over his head, the black t-shirt he wears is too short and flashes you a small stretch of skin that leaves your lips twitching into a smirk.

‘‘Did you finish up?” you ask, beaming up at him as he crowds you against the reception counter.

‘‘I did, please charge them so I can finish up and we can take a break before Namjoon and Alice come in for their shifts.” he sighs, squeezing a giggle out of you at the way he lets too much of his weight rest on you.

‘‘Gimme a sec and you also have another client so no breaks.” he groans though he feels the way you press a little kiss to his chest before pushing him off you.

‘‘I’ll be done soon so get ready to clock out soon, no overtime today remember.” you mutter your response relishing in the giggle he rewards you with before you meet her gaze again. It’s strange the way a single look can make your anger return in full force still cold much like before but it sits in your chest, burning a hole where your heart should be. It scorches your insides in a way that makes you oddly melancholic, and yet also suffocated almost like your organs are slowly shutting down, reminding you of something you’d forgotten. This is familiar, it sparks a feeling in you that you’d worked hard to bury one of longing and heartache, of love and happiness, one that you can see brimming in her eyes as she gazes at you but not quite at you either. No, her gaze falls just behind you, and though you want to pretend you don't know what, no, not what but who she’s looking at. Because her eyes glitter in a way that seems too familiar for you not to know, in a way that little voice in your head had whispered the moment she’d walked through those doors.

And when you turn, your gaze falls on Jungkook who laughs with Namjoon who you hadn’t heard come in. Jungkook meets your gaze easily, smiling in that way that usually warms your cheeks and makes your heart flutter but falls flat when you hear her giggly gasp. You want to feel something other than anger, but you can’t, not when she hides the way her cheeks pinken behind the clipboard. Your gaze falls to a silken strand of red that flutters about as if carried by a soft breeze and you foolishly follow it, because the string connects her and Jungkook’s pinky fingers. You want to cry, not for a love you might lose but more so because you’ĺl be left with the charred mess that is your heart and hope she won't paint his black the way yours has been.

@boymeetsweevil

#jeon jungkook x reader #emms jungkook content #emm writes #mine writings #fic verse: raw