#i love it when characters do shit at their own pace and when lines blur

[transingthoseformers]

Since I'm an anxious bastard, I was thinking about that tfa megop post and immediately went "Oh Fuck am I accidentally doing that with tfp au Megop??!?"

Because that's not what I'm trying to do. The reason I ship megop at all is the shot for shot, push and pull push and pull, even match attitude. Megatron will get over some of his flustered surprise and Optimus is going to exactly love the revenge Megs enacts. Both of them get to have whatever the hell they want gender presentation wise. I've actually been thinking a little too much about Optimus getting a subtle finial piercing, oh i 100% bet he still has the specialty paints (He probably convinced himself they'd need them in the future, and tbh glowing paint is actually very useful in say cave situations like the rid fear episode) I've mentioned how both of their holoforms are going to be fem leaning androgynous because that's amazing. I absolutely love it when characters and people decide "Fuck it, I'm doing whatever I want" with their gender presentation, regardless of things such as gender norms or passing as a particular gender or any of that. They're transformers, beings of constant flux, why should they be limited to strict boxes?

While Oppy is more like he was before the war and this gives Megatron a Reaction, the war ultimately has made Megatron far less passive and fairly possessive in his own right. Optimus is Megatron's, and Megatron is Optimus's. These two orbit each other in a very interesting way, no matter which continuity we're dealing with. Even in TFA, the one universe where you'd expect them to have the least in common, destiny draws them into the same song and dance.

They're two powerful, tough, stupid, beautiful, stubborn, down bad bastards that I want to top. Need I say more?

#moral of the day do whatever the hell you want #i love it when characters do shit at their own pace and when lines blur #transformers #tfp au #tfp megatron #tfp megop #tfp optimus prime #i have opinions about megop and i accept that they're my opinions #don't think i forgot about their uv tattoos #i didn't forget about tfp au Optimus having uv flames and Megatron having mtmte style swirls #i get ~anxious~ about stuff lol #and tbh the Ratchma is shipped in a somewhat similar manner in this au #they're divorced medics who divorced and remarried in the War End party and bicker back and forth and hold each other up #i like unusual fictional relationships that show life isn't as clear cut as it may seem. it's messy and complicated and finds a way #lemme get philosophical ok

[xxlost-cityxx]

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

Ship/Characters: Top!Kirishima Eijirou, Bottom!Bakugou Katsuki

TW/CW: camming(Bakugou's a camboy), rough anal sex, anal fingering, choking, spanking, begging, crying, overstimulation, praising, degrading, enthusiastic consent

Summary: Bakugou's famous for being in the top 3 best doms for a camboy porn site, but as he tries to out rank an up and rising couple, his fans get to see the moment he realises he's a submissive bottom

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

Katsuk has been a camboy for a little over 2 years now, starting right off the bat once he graduated high school. As he was 18 and living on his own and with a low paying job, he quickly realized he needed another source of income to live even slightly comfortably in today's world. Then came a random ad that just so happened to catch his eye, a porn site catching a lot of popularity, a few cam stars seeming to live a life of luxury from simply filming themselves for anyone to see. 

Katsuki had to try it out. 

He's had his fair share of horny old men groping him out in public, so why not get paid for them to watch him instead? 

That plan was one of his best ideas yet. He rose to fame so quickly he choked on water after posting his 4th video ever, seeing that his rough, aggressive attitude turned a lot of people on. A lot meant 14,000 at the time. A month into camming and he was making over 54,000 yen a week! And now, with nearly 500,000 perverts at his mercy, it was much more. He started live streaming last year, and it went amazing. Until a new couple joined the camming business. Suddenly 'loving boyfriend rails his curvy brown haired slut' was all anyone wanted to see. This broccoli headed bitch stole half the damn site from almost every other cammer out there! 

So there was only one thing Katsuki could do now. 

He had to fuck someone on one of his streams. 

He blew up the first time he fucked a flesh light, degrading the inanimate object like no tomorrow, easily being labeled one of the best doms out there. So the only way to get back on top was to dom a real person. 

But he wasn't going to fuck one of his weird ass fans, god no. He needed to find someone close to him who would keep their mouth shut. 

After brainstorming and browsing the most popular porn categories, he got an idea. The best way to narrow down his options for what type of person he'd need is by his audience. He quickly went to his profile insights, his eyes narrowing as over 60% were females. He quickly smirked, easily going back to the most popular categories and filtering out what he didn't want to do and what his audience wouldn't be into. And the one that came out ontop, was gay shit. Katsuki was going to dom a guy. And if it meant coming out on top over all the useless cammers, he'd fuck the shit out of a twink. 

"Sorry man, I would've considered it back when we first graduated, but Hitoshi and Kyo would rather stab you than let me take your dick up my ass." Denki said, casually sighing and taking a sip of his coffee. The elders around the coffee shop gasped, giving nasty side eyes which Katsuki couldn't care less about. "What!?" He nearly shouted, Sero and Mina covering their mouths to prevent any laughter from coming out to the point their faces were turning red. 

"Why not ask Sero-" "-Oh hell no! I'm not letting Katsudon fuck me on camera!" Sero shouted, ignoring Bakugou's glare from calling him Katsudon. 

"You really need to fuck a guy for this? Why not stick to your usual content? No.2 is better than much else, right?" "Hell no! I'm the best and I'm going to prove I'm the fuckin' best! Denki's the only twink I know, so help me find another!" Katsuki yelled, a few families being rushed out of the shop. 

After going through everyone that fit Bakugou's qualifications. They had nothing. Bakugou was ready to tear someone's head off at this point. After doing so much research, he didn't have the final piece. 

"Hey Mina, you're a chick. What do you suggest 'suki do?" Denki sighed, folding in on himself. "I mean, we do love our gay shit man." He said in an inhale. "But why not get fucked instead? We know way more doms than we do twinks." She said, tilting her head. "Oh- Hell no!" Bakugou shouted, Sero wincing. "I'm the best fuckin' dom on this shitting porno site and I'm going to prove it!" "Sounds like a bratty bottom to me." Sero mumbled. 

After more shouting and arguing. Kirishima finally arrived. "Sorry, my last client had a lot of knots in their back and thighs! Took a lot longer than I expected." He said with his happy smile, still wearing his scrubs and smelling like coconut oil. "Eiji~! Gimme a deep tissue massage!" Denki whined, rushing over and jumping face first into the bed. "He just gave massages all day dude, give him a break.." Sero mumbled, shaking his head. 

And it was like a light bulb. His brain flashing to massage porn intro's being in the top 100 categories. "Kirishim!" Bakugou shouted firmly, standing up straight. Kiri froze, slowly turning to look at him with fearful eyes. "Y-Yes…?" "Let me fuck you for my cam stream." And it went dead silent. 

And that's how they're here. Setting up the ring lights, almond oil on the shelves and a small white towel for Bakugou to cover his ass with. The plan was that Eijirou would get handsy during the massage and Katsuki would turn around and start domming him. Kirishima is bigger than Bakugou in the height and muscle department, but that was only going to make the plot better. Eijrou definitely wasn't telling him something. After hesitating to agree in the first place, and only after Bakugou promised a share of the money, Kirishima was just so...unnatural at this situation, his movements starting off as more dominating until he took it down to a submissive level.   

Katsuki started the live, giving his quickly joining fans a cocky smirk before standing up, walking back and laying down on the black table. 

The comments were filled with surprise and questions as to who the red haired hulk was beside the table, but they went unanswered. 

Kirishima grabbed the bottle of almond oil, pouring some into his hands and quickly starting on Katsuki's thighs, gently rubbing into the muscles with experienced ease. 

Bakugou's eyes widened at the feeling, his core already getting hot with desire. And as Kirishima's fingers went under the towel to his inner thighs, he fought a gasp. Comments filled with perverted comments telling the redhead to get more handsy and to give the blond a hand job with all the oil. 

But as Eijirou put a knee on the table and nearly climbed over Katsuki to perfectly get his back, Katsuki started panting at the feeling. It wasn't the massage that was getting him. It was the feeling of Eijirou's crotch rubbing against the thin towel, his cock slightly hard underneath his black scrubs. 

As it was about time for the script to move onto Katsuki domming Kirishima, Bakugou was stifling whimpers of shock and embarrassment. His cock aching for him to fuck Kirishima…..actually. His body was aching to be fucked by Kirishima. 

As Katsuki was turned around, His eyes were teary, his fans taking quick, shocked notice and flooding the comments with surprise, degrading, perverted insults about how he looked like a twink instead. 

Kirishima's eyes slightly widened at the sight, and as Bakugou swallowed his embarrassment and shock, he focused on his arousal and his own perverse desires. "F-Fuck me….instead.." He whispered, his eyes slightly squinting and blurring with tears. 

Before he knew it, Eijirou was leaning over top of him with a slick hand around his neck. Bakugou couldn't help but moan at the pressure, his stream struggling to keep up with the influx of viewers and comments about the top 3 best doms getting put in his place by a rando. 

Bakugou's mind wasn't on the donations anymore, not on the follower count or his ranking at this point. He was gasping for air as Kirishima roughly kissed and bit at his body, keeping an iron grip on Katsuki's neck. "Oh fuck yes- Was hoping to god I would be able to fuck your tight ass one day-!" Kirishima breathed against his skin, licking up his nipple to his jaw and nipping at him. 

He suddenly ripped himself off the blonde, walking over to the camera and grabbing it, making a winky face at the viewers as he moved the camera to get a better view of Bakugou teary eyed, flushed and a line of red, darkening hickies and bites. 

He got back on the table, roughly gripping Katsuki's thighs and harshly pushing them apart, an action that would probably make some other guy pull a muscle. He wrapped his arms around his spread thighs, pulling his hips up to meet his crotch, the pale skin against his dark black scrubs finally letting Bakugou and the viewers know what the newbie was packing, and it was a lot. 

"H-Holy fuck-" Bakugou whispered out as his towel was ripped off of him, oil being grabbed off the table and the cap popped open. Kirishima paused, looking up to Bakugou, a silent plea for last minute permission. Katsuki's red eyes met crimson, and he swiftly nodded his head, accidentally earning more donations from the show of submission. 

Eijirou lathered his fingers in oil, tracing the blond's pink hole carefully, giving the camera another adjustment so the viewers could see his perfect view as well; a red faced, teary eyed dom with his tight ass being slicked up so nicely. 

The oil made Katsuki's muscle relax easily, becoming soft under the thick tanned finger, and as he swiftly plunged in the singular finger, Katsuki gasped with shock, his eyes going wide at the foregin feeling. 

Kirishima slowly pumped his finger, adding slightly more oil every time his muscle got a bit too tight, slipping in more fingers every time his rim was soft. It felt like such a short amount of time between preparing to dom his best friend to being finger fucked by him. Eijirou's forearm had veins slightly protruding as he slammed his fingers into his friend at a pace that made vibrators look pathetic. Katsuki's pretty little back was arched so nicely, his muscles flexing and his toes curling, tears falling from his eyes as moan after moan was ripped from him. 

"P-Please! I can't! I can't take it anymore!" He finally sobbed, shaking his head at the man's brutal pace, purposely avoiding his prostate after hitting it every couple times. 

Kirishima smirked, slowly sliding his fingers out only to slide his thumbs inside, stretching the soft muscle as he pleased, showing off the blond's perfectly hot pink insides, his swollen rim slick and twitching. "So nice and pretty for me, hm? You wanna take my fat cock for the first time? Expose how much of a slut you are for cock? For my cock?" Kirishima said seductively, moving the camera again. 

Katsuki nodded his head rapidly, his eyes glued to the hard to see bulge under his black scrubs. "Use your words, baby." Eijirou said firmly, palming himself. "Y-Yes- I want it-! I w-want your fat cock-!" He said, face flushing with embarrassment again. "Good boy~" He cooed, finally grabbing the hem of his pants and pulling them down. 

It was almost like he struggled to pull the front down far enough, his cock just kept following, and once it finally got over his tip, his penis sprung up to lightly slap against his stomach before it weighed itself down. The camera got Bakugou's surprise and shock perfectly, the comments finally going quiet, almost as if everyone had to take in what they were seeing as well. 

Kirishima grabbed the base of his cock, lifting it and letting it slap against Bakugou's hole, earning a slightly muffled whimper from the blond. He gently moved his hips, letting his cock slide smoothly against his hole, his tip teasing the smaller's balls. The comments were filled with encouragement and orders to get on with it. 

Kirishima chuckled darkly, letting his tip catch on the rim, slowly pushing in. Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed before his mouth dropped and eyes widened with the pressure. He let out a guttural moan, his legs starting to shake. 

As Eijirou bottomed out with a groan, Katsuki was shaking and whimpering, his own well endowed cock red and dripping precome. 

The redhead pulled out before slamming back in, the blond shooting up with shock only to be met with a hand on his neck again, pinning him down as the Kirishima harshly forced his way between Bakugou's legs even more, only giving the blond a couple seconds to adjust before he started snapping his hips into the smaller man's ass. Bakugou took in one breath of air before lewd moans poured from him, his voice cracking every time his skin was slapped with another brutal thrust. 

"Agh- P-Please-!" Katsuki nearly screamed out, Eijirou grabbing the back of his knees and pressing them back to meet his shoulders, effectively putting him in a mating press. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you fucking want!" Eijirou growled out, groaning as Katsuki's tight, slicked up boy cunt tried to milk him, pulsing and sucking him in with every movement. "I-I want it harder! Please- Please fuck me harder! Give me more!" Bakugou nearly sobbed, looking at where their bodies were connected with teary wide eyes. "Such a fuckin' slut-! Making all these people think you were a fucking dom, only to start begging for the first fat cock you see! Want it harder? Wanna feel my fat dick in you for days?" He growled, eagerly moving to grab Katsuki's ankles and awkwardly spreading them over Katsuki's head before turning him, ripping his cock out of his pillowy ass and nearly picking the blond up by his ass, grabbing the nape of his neck and forcing him on his knees with his head down. 

He slammed back in, the blond nearly screaming once again as he set another brutal pace. "Y-Yes! Please, god yes! Fuck me more! Don't stop!" Katsuki sobbed, drool and tears staining his lewd face. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it! You love having your little boy cunt fucked, huh? Love how I fucking ruin you on this dick?" Kirishima growled, slapping a hand down on his fat ass, groaning loudly at the sight of all the excess muscle and fat jiggle even more. 

Katsuki's ass slapped against Eijirou's abs every time he slammed into the boy, his back muscles looking so pretty at this angle. 

"Oh shit- I'm gonna cum! Please make me cum! Don't fucking stop~!" Bakugou moaned, arching his back and lifting his ass up higher so Eijirou could hit his prostate at the best angle. "Haven't even touched your cock and you're gonna cum? Fucking do it! Cum on this cock, make it yours and I'll fuck you every day!" Kirishima promised, sharpening his thrusts to where all Bakugou could do is claw at the padded table and scream, staring into the camera as his orgasm was building higher and higher. 

"I- Fuck! I'm fucking cummin'!" Bakugou screamed, his body shaking under Kirishima as his thrusts went unbroken, hurtling Katsuki into overstimulation. He started screaming for relief, but as Kirishima planted his hands into the curvature of Bakugou's spine, he started thrusting purely for his own relief. Groaning and growling above a sobbing Katsuki. "S-Stop! I can't! Slow down~ Please!" Katsuki begged, his cock trying to harden again. His body was on fire, every nerve fried with pleasure he'd never experienced, and Katsuki knew he was addicted. 

"Almost fuckin' there! Gonna cum in your ass- Claim you, make you mine!" Eijirou groaned out, his balls drawing up tight as his own climax ripped through him, filling up the man's stomach with his cum. 

He slowly pulled out, Katsuki in the same position even after Eijirou let go of him. He grabbed the camera, pointing it at Bakugou's gaping and cum filled hole, watching how he pulsed against nothing, forcing the cum to leak out of him despite his angle. 

Not only did Katsuki make absolute bank while taking monster cock like a slut, he took the No.1 spot by over a thousand followers and ratings. 

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines #kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kiribaku #kiribaku thirst #kiribaku smut #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #kirishima smut #kirishima thirst #camboy!bakugou #mha thirst #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha thirst

[chiwhorei]

the devil makes

pairing: benimaru shinmon x reader x joker/52

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.2k

tags: a touch of branding (he flicks his cigarette at you i just really don’t know how else to tag it), knifeplay (except it’s a playing card, only a smidge of blood), rough oral, face fucking, voyeurism, spit, anal, double penetration, degradation, spanking, belly bulge, it’s a little dubconny but not really?

a/n: my first full fire force piece woot woot! these two characters make me so fucking horny and when they shared the screen my pussy was completely inconsolable. thank you @messwriting and @10millionyearsdungeon for looking over this and always encouraging me.

hymn: wrong by MAX ft. lil uzi vert

you, and me, and the devil makes three.

“Why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what you want,” you pluck the cigarette from your caller’s lips, he presses his saccharine smile down at the edges to feign a pout.

You know better by now. Your legs hang on either side of Joker’s hips, his white dress shirt doing almost nothing to cover skin filled with a new flight of bites and bruises. The last set had just faded when you heard the tell-tale knock at your front door.

His timing is always impeccable, hat in hand and dipping under your doorway just as the wanton throbbing sizzles into a dull ache.

Deeply inhaling, nicotine breaches your throat and prickles past your lungs. You only ever smoke when he’s around. At this point, you’re not sure if it’s a necessity or a habit.

“Do I need a reason to visit my favorite girl?” His voice trails around your skin in tune with a wandering set of hands. It’s infuriating how easily your body relents to Joker’s fingerprints. You’ll feel them like scorch marks for days to come.

“I’m not your girl and I doubt I’m your favorite.” You bush off his quip, cigarette bobbing in your teeth before he pulls it from your mouth to drag. With a flick of his finger, ash falls like burning snow onto the juncture of your collarbone. You wince and fall forward into his chest.

“You’ve proven yourself the most useful, is that better?” Joker pulls you into a searing kiss, pushing tongue and smoke into your awaiting mouth.

“At least it’s more honest.” Joker laughs loudly, his head falling back against the mattress. Your pillows will smell like sage and campfire, you’ll pretend it doesn't lull you to sleep.

“I need your help to, achem, seal a deal of sorts. For the greater good of course.”

Eyes roll upwards, first with guffaw, but any argument melts with the feeling of his lips on a warpath from the angle of your jaw to the swell of your breast.

Joker promises to make it worth your while, in the ways you always seem to let him.

Against all better judgement.

* * *

“Well, Captain,” Joker presses a sharp ace against the curve of your collarbone, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake, “she’s a pretty little toy ain’t she?”

Pleasure coats your tongue, it tastes like blood and incense.

In the short time they’ve been acquainted, Benimaru has learned to be unsurprised with any impromptu meetings Joker could plan.

What Beni wasn’t expecting was your naked, flushed body on the lap of his new associate. He wants to complain about the purple eyed almost-stranger sitting in his private quarters, but any argument flounders for air as soon as you come into view.

You seem completely placid from your position against the anti-hero’s chest, awaiting further instructions with glassy eyes. Any shame you could ever muster lies in a heap of fabric six feet away. Joker always dresses you in something easy to tear off.

“You sure do make an interesting first impression, Joker.” The 7th’s captain walks forward in the dimly lit room, pushing his fingers against your hair and pulling back roughly to steal your undivided attention.

A pretty little toy indeed.

“We���re partners now, Beni,” you can feel Joker’s voice like honeyed venom from behind, every syllable drips against your shoulders, “and partners share.”

Joker flicks the playing card upward, twirling it in deft fingers. You watch his dexterity, the piece of glossy paper is pressed to your lipstick, dragging your bottom lip down slightly before pulling away. A signature painted in soft pink.

The hand on your hip, the one in your hair-- the feeling of two bodies enclosing on you like prey is overwhelming and salacious.

“Does he bring you to do all of his dirty work?” You’re spoken to for the first time, the grip in your hair lifting you from Joker’s lap.

“Only the dirtiest work suits me,” you hold your ground, voice dropping an octave to make both men shudder, “captain.”

Benimaru’s sneer is only an inch from your mouth, his proximity neering closer with every word falling past your lips. If you keep talking like this, Joker won’t want to share his toys anymore.

Pointer finger and thumb come up to cradle your chin, mouth parting with the smallest pressure. Your tongue lulls out slightly, an invitation punctuated with your eyes flitting from his stare to the deep set frown across his face.

The sound of Beni spitting hits your ears, the harsh put bounces against the bannisters. Warmth runs in an indecent trail from the tip to the fattest plane of your tongue.

“Don’t play coy, sweetheart, show ‘em what else you can do with that mouth.” Joker’s palm comes down on your ass cheek hard, a breathy yelp escapes to be swallowed by the man above you.

Beni moves to perch against the desk centered in the ever-condensing room, arms folded across his broad chest. The space feels cold without the body heat you had been stuck in between, you feel exposed fully for the first time since Joker snuck you into company seven.

There’s only a beat of self-cognizance before you’re pushed to the ground by a familiar set of calloused hands. You need no further direction, knees and palms straining against the hardwood as you inch forward.

By the time you’re kneeling in front of Benimaru, his cock is in a tight fist. He pumps himself in long strokes, smearing pre with his thumb to coat the throbbing head. His length is impressive, you can feel saliva pooling in under your tongue as you watch his hand move from base to tip.

The sight almost has you forgetting your manners.

“Will you fuck my mouth, Captain Shinmon?” There’s very little restraint left available behind his icy red irises. Joker sits back in the brown leather chair, a front row seat.

You feel the familiar burn against your scalp with Beni’s searing pull. The red tip hits your mouth and you’re positive a streak of lipstick finds home against your chin.

You’ll be covered in much more before the sun comes up.

His cock is heavy as pushes past your lips inch by thick inch. The groan ripping through your throat is vibrato against the ribbed skin.

“Wow, ah, your sweet little throat was meant for cock wasn’t it?” Tears prick in your eyeline, your vision growing bleary as you swallow. A stray streak of mascara falls down the curve of your cheek before Beni swipes it away. You almost blush. Almost.

He hits the back of your throat with seemingly little effort, you sputter slightly at the burn, your jaw aching to accommodate. Just as you feel him pulling almost all of the way out, Beni slams the full length in again. His pace is brutal and unforgiving. Each thrust earning a new mess of spit and makeup to collect at the edges of your mouth.

“No need to be gentle, Beni, she’s taken a whole lot worse.” You would laugh at the sick curl of Joker’s words if you could. The implication is both irritating and worrisome.

“As much as I would love to cum in that pretty little mouth,” you gasp for air as Beni pulls you off, a thick line of slobber still connecting your bottom lip to his cock, “I really want to feel your cunt wrapped around me instead.”

You hear the sound of Joker’s heavy feet closing in from behind, his grip on the back of your neck to hoist you back up to your feet.

“Partners share, remember?” The lilt in your pursuers voice is sweet in the way sugar free gums rots your teeth. Joker will break you into pieces for the greater good.

It’s sick, absolutely disgusting, how much you crave your own destruction.

“She’s nice and ready for you, captain. Feel how dripping wet she is just from sucking your cock.” His next words suck all of the oxygen from your lungs, he replaces air with tension,

“You can take her cunt, I’m going to fuck her tight little ass.”

“Wait I--” There’s no use pleading, there’s no use in anything but quiet compliance and resolving to the fate of being stuffed completely full.

Four hands are on you, groping the fat on hips and breasts, moving against the pliant skin in tandem. You’re malleable in their hold, hoisted up in Joker’s arms. His grip is unforgiving, crescented bruises are bound to form and be visible for days to come on the inside of your thighs.

Beni captures your lips between his teeth, stealing back your attention with a growl. His kiss is searing, tongue slipping to lash against your own. The stubble grazing his strong jaw is dizzying, he whispers against your lips, licking against your pre-stained mouth. Quiet enough to be either missed or ignored by Joker as he busies himself freeing his cock and grinding itn against your ass.

“Next time I’ll sit you on my face and we can have a little fun one-on-one.” Beni punctuates his promise with a nip to your bottom lip before his hands move to steady you snugly in between two wide chests. His palms rest on the dips of your hips, thumb jutting out to press tightly against your aching clit. The movement rips a hoarse wale from deep in the back of your throat.

“You always cry so pretty, dollface.” Joker’s emboldened by your tears, an invitation to push you farther, you feel two fingers prodding your asshole, using your own slick to assist in his exploration. The sensation is painful and addicting as both digits push past the tight ring of muscle.

His fingers move to work the taught hole open, each ridge of knuckle and callus blurring the line between torment and pleasure. Beni circles your clit, picking up in pace as Joker adds a third finger, the stimulation hurtling you towards orgasm. A litany of please scratch at your throat, begging your captors to steal an orgasm from the pile of shaking limbs in between them.

“Cum, little one, cum so I can fuck this tight little cunt of yours.” Beni’s voice is unmistakably demanding, there’s not a note of suggestion behind his words. Your first orgasm snaps against you like electrocution, buzzing around every nerve.

“That’s my girl,” Joker snickers, feeling the contraction and loosening of your muscles. Your high is the final submission, willing every part of you how they see fit. Little more than a toy, a pawn in a broader game of chess.

“Are you ready for us?” Beni’s voice is framed in question, but you know better than to take it as anything but rhetorical. It doesn't actually matter whether or not you’re ready. What matters is the squeal of pain and temperance that comes from breaking you.

Before you can even nod in agreement, you feel it. The burning fullness, the sealing of a deal between two men that you happen to be placed right in the middle of. Joker’s cock is hot and heavy, sheathing himself in the last plane of virgin flesh. The piercing on his frenum drags against you, a familiar feeling in the most unfamiliar place.

There’s no time to get used to the sensation as Beni is pulling you forward slightly so your weeping pussy is hovering over his length. Your legs dangle, suspended on either side of his forearms. You’re lowered onto the captain, his pace is remarkably gentle as your pubic bone meets the sprawling expanse of wirey hair nestled between his hips. As your skin meets on either side of your weeping body, both cocks sheathed completely inside, the canter of either man picks up brutally.

The sticky feeling of sweat and arousal covers every inch of skin in the room, partnering with the sound of slapping and thrusting that all but drowns out the pathetic whimpers your suspended form can muster.

“I knew you would make yourself useful, doll. My favorite game to play.”

Your head falls forward against Beni, body growing heavy as the merciless, rhythmic thrumming of your abuse. The dull ache of another orgasm drips into your bloodstream. Your abused bundle of nerves become live wires, sparking against Joker’s wandering fingers as they wrap around your front.

“I can feel it, ya’ know, I can feel myself in your stomach.” His taunt is stressed with his palm pressing down against your abdomen before dipping back down once more to pinch your clit.

His rough treatment is the final straw, you scream and cuvulse in the hold of your predators. You squeeze tightly in a succession of muscle spasms that feel like you’re trying to milk both of their own orgasms to crash with your own.

Thick spurts of cum spill into you with a series of deep, final thrusts. You feel your own wetness as it runs down your thighs and ass. Muffled groans from both men fill the stale air as they claim your holes. There’s nothing left in the space between bodies except you caught in the web of spiders, dangling in silken limbs and labored breathing. There’s nothing left to give or take.

There’s nothing but panting and sweat and a deal with the devil.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#fire force x reader #fire force smut #benimaru x reader #joker x reader #benimaru smut #joker smut #en en no shobotai #fire force #tw: knifeplay #tw: dubcon #sin.knifeplay #sin.dubcon #tw: branding #sin.branding

[holylulusworld]

More than their roommate (3 of Arc 1)

Summary: Slowly the lines between lust and feelings blur and someone tries to destroy your blooming relationship.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Sam Wilson

Characters: Director Nick Fury, Maria Hill, OFC

Warnings: language, bickering, smut, fingering, light oral, possible FATWS spoilers, hurt & comfort, cuddling & snuggling, polyamory, bad therapy etiquette, mentions of non-con filming, extorsion, mentions of former abusive relationship, implied smut

A/N: Part 3/3 of (Arc 1) - The Therapist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

<< Part 2

Since you moved in with the boys, they work together like a well-oiled machine. 

Fury wanted to know your secret, but this is something you’ll never share.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky and Sam, Fury already found out why your roommates work better together.

He saw the footage from their office and more than one from your shared loft.

Someone sneaked into your home, installed cameras, and filmed you anytime you had sex with one of your roommates – or both.

“Sam,” you gasp, looking at Sam between your legs. He has you on the edge of an orgasm but won’t let you fall. “We got no time. Fury wanted an emergency meeting this morning, with all of us.

“Yeah?” he looks up at you, smirking as you admire his face, covered in your slick. “I’m just having a snack before we go, babe,” Sam grins, diving back in to wrap his lips around your oversensitive clit. 

“Ah, fuck – Sam!” you cry, grinding against his face. “Please, I need a shower, fix some papers, and make a few calls,” you say, breathlessly. “Let me cum, please.”

“Alright, lemme just-“ Sam slides three fingers inside of your cunt, presses his fingertips against the roof of your vagina. “I’m gonna make you cum now and we have a shower together. I wonder why Fury called you in the middle of the night…”

“So sexy,” Sam kisses your sweet spot, leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “What are we doing here, Y/N? I’m not complaining but is this something serious or just fun?”

“Honestly,” you turn around to face Sam, running your loofah over his chest, “I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I never did something like this before with two men. When I’m with you and James, I feel-“

“Complete,” he whispers, stopping your hands from cleaning his body. “Y/N, we need to talk about this. I don’t think Bucky can lose someone else. He already lost so much.”

“I’m not here to break your hearts,” you touch Sam’s cheek, just looking up at him for a moment. “I like you both, a lot. Right now, I can’t call it love yet, but if I would ever fall in love with someone again, it would be you and him…”

“Doc carries her own package, huh?” Bucky wonders, flipping through the pages of your file. “Did we find out who the douche breaking her heart was?”

“Not so loud,” Sam tuts. “After what she told me this morning, I asked a friend to dig a bit deeper. Sharon said Y/N left her former job, a well-paid position as someone broke her heart.”

“What do with the information now? I don’t think she wants us to stick our noses into her-“ Bucky bites his tongue when you walk into the living room.

“Ready?” you ask, brows furrowed in a silent question. “What? Do I have something on my face? Damn, is there a visible bite mark at my neck?”

“No, you just look so sexy in your professional outfit, doll,” Bucky grins, holding out his hand. “Do we have to go to the office today?”

“Fury said it’s important, James,” you tut. “Let’s be professional for once, okay. I know you hate meetings, but this is unavoidable.”

“Why is this woman here?” Bucky eyes the foreign woman warily, not missing you squirm in your seat. “Something wrong, doc?”

Sam can see a hint of fear flash across your face before you clear your throat. 

“This is Sarah Murphy, our expert for, let’s say internal affairs,” Fury huffs, hating he must have this specific conversation with you. “Let’s get this over with, Ms. Murphy.”

“Director Fury asked me to be here today to make sure whatever we discuss, stay within these walls. I can assure you, the material we will show to you, will not leave this room either and no one but Director Fury saw the footage.”

“Footage?” you furrow your brows, confusion is written all over your face and you clutch your hands to your chest in attempt to calm your racing heart. “Did you spy on one of us?” 

“None of us spied on you, Doctor Y/L/N. I always appreciate your hard work. Sadly, someone sent us this,” Fury points at the laptop Sarah Murphy placed on the desk. “I want you to watch the footage, all of it. Ms. Murphy and I will leave the room meanwhile.”

“I don’t understand,” you panic, grasping for Sam’s hand to squeeze it tightly. “Why do you want us to watch videos?”

“I must tell you before we leave the room, that someone sent us the footage, along with a few demands,” Fury stands, gives Sam a curt nod before he turns to leave the room. “In other words, someone tries to extort us. I will tell you about the details later.”

When it’s only you and your roommates you look at the laptop, afraid to watch whatever someone filmed. “I don’t want to watch this.”

“We must,” Sam says, breaking the tension, just pressing play. “Whoever filmed us or one of us will pay for it.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Bucky tries, metal hand balled into a fist. “Maybe that bastard only filmed me doing push-ups or-“

The first thing you recognize is your hoarse voice, and the slap of skin against skin. Your eyes widen in horror when you watch yourself getting fucked by Sam while you watch Bucky jerk off and later on, covering your body with his cum.

“No,” your body starts to tremble, and you can barely feel the hand touching yours when the scene changes to another video. 

It’s in the kitchen this time, you bend over the kitchen island, Bucky’s hands hold you down by your shoulders while he fucks you roughly, calling you his whore.

“No-no-no-“ Bucky stops the video, clicks on the next one. This time you get fucked in their office, not days ago. “Stop this, Bucky-“ you cry, hiding your face in the palm of your hands. “Someone invaded our privacy just like that.”

“Baby doll,” slamming his metal fist into the laptop, destroying it on his way Bucky feels his chest tightening. He knows how it feels to have no privacy. “I will rip whoever did this to you apart.”

“So someone filmed us at our home and sent it to Fury. Then the same person filmed us at our office and did the same again,” Sam tries to not freak out. He hates you choke out sobs, desperate to forget about what you just saw. “But why?”

“We should ask Fury,” you whisper, not fighting Bucky when he brings you in his arms to cradle you gently. “Sam, you should talk. I-I can’t right now and Bucky, he’s too mad.”

“I’ll go get Fury,” Sam swallows thickly. He slowly gets up to kiss your hair softy, hand gently smoothing over your arm. “We will handle this, baby. No one is going to see this ever again.”

“We-We looked hot, at least,” you try to laugh, but choke on your tears instead. “I hate someone did this to us. It’s not only about me, but you and Bucky too, Sam. How dare them?”

“I’m going to kill them,” Bucky growls. “Rip them apart, limp by worthless limp…”

“Do we know who did this?” Sam asks while you sit between Bucky and Sam, not meeting Fury’s eyes. “Director?”

“I need to get this off my chest, doctor,” Fury sighs. “Whatever you do in your free time, is up to you.”

You nod, still not looking up. “Do we have a name or a reason why?”

“Sergeant Barnes, this has nothing to do with you, if you would just calm down,” Bucky starts to pace the room, jaw ticking, hands balled into fists. “I know you were on the footage too, but according to my information it’s all about the shield and the title.”

“Wait—what?” you gape at Fury, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. “No way! You can’t be serious! Someone wants the title and Sam’s shield?”

“I’m afraid so,” Fury says, watching Sam run his hand over your hair. “We will do anything to help you, though.”

“What if Sam doesn’t give it to them? What did they say will happen?” Bucky asks, watching Fury lean back in his chair. “That bad?”

“Whoever is after the shield threatens to leak the footage. Doctor Y/L/N would lose her job. She would be compromised,” Fury explains. “I can’t say what would happen to your uh-“

“I don’t have a career and give a shit on my reputation, but we can’t let anything happen to Y/N and her job,” Bucky grunts. “What can we do to find them?”

“John Walker,” you whisper, glancing at Fury. “It can only be him – right?”

“Who is John Walker? I never heard of him before,” Sam watches you focus your attention toward Fury, not answering his question. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“If it’s John, we got to be careful. I know he wanted to become the next Captain, not accepting the gentleman’s agreement between Sam and Captain Rogers. I know some people at the government would like to see that man wield the shield, but we won’t allow him to do so,” you stand, straighten your skirt before you look Fury straight in the eyes. “I quit.”

“Doll, just wait a minute. Let’s talk about this,” while Bucky tries to stop you from throwing everything you worked so hard for away while Sam silently watches the change in your posture.

“What is else do we want to discuss, James? That bastard won’t stop, okay. He wants the shield but won’t get it.”

“I give it to him if this saves your career and reputation,” Sam offers. “Steve hand the shield to me, believing I’ll do the right thing. He would’ve done the same to save you.”

“No,” you slam your fist onto the table, making Sam jump. “If you don’t want to wield the shield, fine by me but we will not let anyone take it away from you.”

“What about your job?” you don’t give in. Looking at Sam you give him a weak smile. “Y/N?”

“Fury, tell that bastard he can go and leak anything he wants to. I’m an adult and had sex with two men I love. This is not a crime. If he wants to ruin my career, so be it. He can go and shove it up to his ass.”

“I did not expect anything else from you, doctor,” Fury chuckles, admiring you give a shit on John Walker’s threat.

“Just give me an hour to get back home. I don’t want to answer any questions today. Let hell come over me – tomorrow…” your head held up high you walk toward the door, grasping for the door handle before you look over your shoulder. “Are you coming, guys?”

“We can’t let that bastard get away with this,” Bucky points at the TV. An hour after Fury told Walker he can fuck his deal, named man leaked all the videos he took of you and your roommates.

“Hill did her best to take all the videos down. Luckily, she found the server with the original files. She also marked the files and tries to locate any copy,” Sam explains. 

He watches you sit in your favorite armchair, snuggled in a warm blanket you just look at the wall. “She just lost her career only as we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves and tried to get rid of her, Sam.”

“I know.”

“I will find and kill John Walker. He will pay for hurting Y/N,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, watching you brush a single tear off your cheek.

“So, we're partners?”

“Co-workers. Not necessarily a team, but we will team up to avenge, Y/N.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Bucky holds out his hand. 

“Sounds like a good plan,” shaking Bucky’s hand Sam smirks. “Now let’s find John Walker and show him what happens if he hurts someone we care about.”

“Finally-“ you walk toward your roommates, smiling softly. “Took you long enough to admit you like each other.” you walk toward your bedroom, smiling to yourself. “Did you find all the hidden cameras?” 

“Yes. Why?” cocking his head Sam looks at you. “Y/N?”

“You know, I don’t have to be up early in the morning any longer,” you smirk. “You can keep me awake all night long…”

“Doll,” Bucky purrs, eyes drifting toward your ass. “Ready if you are…”

“Hey, I told you she’s mine,” following you hot on your heels Sam calls Bucky’s name. “Hands off!”

“How did Y/N know it was Walker?” Maria looks at the leaked footage, clenching her jaw. “Director?”

“Do you remember when I told you she quit her last job? I told you that someone made her leave, it was Walker,” Fury explains. 

“Doctor Y/L/N doesn’t seem like someone just giving up on her career for a man,” Maria wonders. “There is more – right?”

“They were a pair for years, even wanted to marry but then, he changed. After the blip happened he became a different man. And since Steve Rogers and the Avengers undid the blip, Walker wanted to become the next Captain and turned into a possessive man on a mission.”

“Sounds like the perfect partner,” nodding thoughtfully Maria looks at her boss. “What happened?”

“Y/N tried to make Walker see he was in the wrong, that the end doesn’t always justify the means. She ended up in hospital with two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“She walked out on him I assume.”

“John Walker doesn’t like rejection in any way. This is the opportunity he was waiting for. He ruined Y/N’s career and aims for his next target—the shield in Sam Wilson’s hands…”

End of Arc 1...

Arc 2 - TBA

All works Tags

@yolobloggers

@shikshinkwon

@miraclesoflove

@mogaruke

@shatteredabby

@soryuwifeyxx

@letsdisneythings

@i-love-superhero

@psychicforest

@thevelvetseries

@anaelsbrunette

@sabascio

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@trumpettay

@zxph-yr

@belovedcherry

@matsumama

@emoryhemsworth

@buckybarnesplumwhore

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

@kitkatd7

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@princesssterek

@xoxabs88xox

@wandering-spiritash

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

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore

@notyourtypicalrose

@valsworldofcreativity

@officialmarvelwhore

@randomgirlkensy

@juniorhuntersam

@lumar014

@doctorswife221b

@sister-winchesters99

@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

@the-soulofdevil

@dayasvalkyrie

@redroomproperty

@natura1phenomenon

@chaoticfiretaconerd

@heartislubbingdubbing

@hhiggs

@sea040561

@midnightsilver16830

@rvgrsbrns

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@amandamdiehl

@grincheveryday

@thelostallycat

@lunaticgurly

@supernaturalwintersoldier

@mrsdeanwinchester19

@pandaxnienke

@just-a-littlebit-of-everything

@tdbooth

@iloveshawnieboi

@vicmc624

@coffeebooksandfandom

@mariaenchanted

@rebekahdawkins

@lady-pswrld

@thinkaboutmara

@notbrooklynsblog

@bxnnywriting

@demonicbusiness

@introvertatitsfinest

@notbrooklynsblog

@just-a-littlebit-of-everything

@doozywoozy

@moshymosh

@soccer-100000

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@marshyrebelcloud

@buchanan-lover

@rosalynshields

@neii3n

@jane-dough

@hinata7346​

#More than their room (3 of Arc 1) #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #angst #bucky x reader x sam #sam x reader x bucky #polyamory #light smut #l

[isthisthingeven0n]

volunteering at its finest : s.r

spencer ‘volunteers’ to babysit henry whilst you and the girls have a needed girls night, except the night lasts a lot longer than any of you anticipated (2.2k)

* also i have an etsy shop where i sell some criminal minds tote bags and prints. if you wanna check it out i’ll leave the link here (i’ve also got a labour day sale happening rn til the 8th!) *

“Please do not tell me you’ve forgotten about girls night that I’ve had in my calendar for the last five weeks?” Penelope focuses on JJ through the monitor who slowly lowers her phone before glancing over to you.

“I, I didn’t forget,” JJ starts, causing both you and Emily to hold your laughs as she tries to ease her way out.

“You don’t sound so sure, J.” You comment, quickly feeling a rolled-up newspaper swatting your arm as you head towards the jet.

“It’s not that I forgot, it’s just the first time Will has been away in months and it just slipped my mind.” JJ tries to reason as you board the jet before you sit down opposite her and Emily, awaiting the wrath of Penelope Garcia once you return to base.

“What slipped your mind?” Spencer pitches in as he sits down beside you, a bright smile crossing his lips as you lean against him. “Hey,” He mutters to you, and JJ glances to Emily, still shocked that the pair of you owned up to your feelings six months ago after pining over one another for two years.

Patting Spencer’s arm lightly, you shrug it off. “Just girls night tonight.” You begin to explain, noticing Spencer furrowing his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I thought we were going to watch the Doctor Who marathon tonight?” He questions quietly, watching as a look of guilt consumes your expression.

“That was this today?” You weakly ask back as Spencer simply nods. “Oh, Spence,” You mutter, but Emily kindly butts in to save your ass once again.

“What if you watched it at JJ’s,” Emily begins, and you focus on her with a raised brow. “babysitting Henry?”

JJ scoffs lightly. “Spence, you’ve never babysat on your own before.” She looks over to the Godfather of her son, one of her best friends who could talk his way out of most things, but babysitting is another level.

“What? I could easily do it.” Spencer states proudly, forcing himself to sit taller in his seat as Rossi glances over, lowering the case file from his view. “I’ve watched Home Alone with Y/n, I know exactly what not to do. And I’ve read sixteen books on parenting.” He quickly adds, and Emily quips an eyebrow to you.

“I didn’t know that.” You mutter under your breath, just as JJ laughs playfully at Spencer’s antics.

“Just let the kid babysit, he clearly wants to.” Rossi pitches in, and Spencer smiles brightly at Rossi’s reassurance.

“Think of girls night.” Emily chuckles, and JJ looks over to you with concern before focusing back to Spencer, nodding to the proposition. “It’ll only be a couple of hours.” Emily quickly adds, and Spencer grins brightly.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Spencer nudges your side as JJ shakes her head, wondering what she’s about to let lose.

***

“I still can’t get over the fact Spence offered,” Penelope states as she brings over your drinks to the table, placing them down as you eye Emily who shrugs her shoulders.

“Spencer is a good guy like that,” Emily snickers, and you nudge her playfully before sipping your drink.

As you swallow, you can’t help but cough and widen your eyes to Penelope who happily downs her cocktail. “Shit, Pen, what is in this? Battery acid?” You remark, sniffing it as JJ sips hers, quickly having the same reaction.

“No,” Penelope shakes her head as a scoff leaves her lips. “but it is called ‘Poison Ivy.’”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as Emily downs the last of her previous drink, slamming the glass down before heading back to the bar. “Anyone want another one? I saw there’s a deal on certain drinks.” Emily calls out, not giving any of you a chance to answer before she disappears to the bar.

“God, if Spencer was here he’d happily list off some facts about the DC character Poison Ivy.” You sigh, wondering how he’s managing with little Henry.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine, Y/n.” Penelope reaches out, and you nod. “How’re you holding up Jayj?”

Turning your head, you see JJ finishing off the remainder of your drink as she places it next to her empty glass.

“What?” JJ slurs, lifting her head up as her eyes cloud over.

“Yeah, I think JJ has past worried and is in denial.” You mutter to Penelope who wisely nods in agreement.

Emily quickly returns with more drinks which JJ gladly accepts. “So, Y/n,” Emily rests her elbows on the table, focusing directly on you as you swallow the lump in your throat. “when are you going to tell us about the good Doctor huh?” She jokes and you laugh lightly, taking one of the four shots.

Placing the empty shot glass down, you wince as the burn descends down your throat. “Maybe after four more of these,” You cough, and Emily signals to the bartender to bring a few more rounds.

*

“Come on, we gotta get into the taxi,” Penelope tries her best to take charge as you help JJ to her feet along with Emily who is as much help as Spencer with his gun.

“Pen, can you take Emily? I’ll help JJ.” Despite still being drunk, you can focus on Penelope long enough to see only two of her as she nods and a blur of colour crosses your vision.

JJ’s head hits your shoulder, and you hear her hum. “Y/n?” JJ slurs and you hold her head up as you reach the exit to the bar, seeing the taxi feet away.

“It’s okay, J, the taxi isn’t far.” You rub her arm as she shakes her head and quickly darts out of your arms and hauls her body against a wall as she vomits violently.

“God, least I’m not that bad.” Emily laughs, unaware of who is being sick until JJ lifts herself back up, swaying back into your direction as she wipes her face. “Oh, hey JJ.” Emily waves as JJ groans loudly before climbing into the taxi after you.

“Where to ladies?” The driver speaks up as the doors are finally closed, and Penelope fastens her seatbelt in beside the driver.

You completely zone out as Penelope gives the driver her address, and miss the ringing of your phone. Little do you know, that missed call would become the first of many throughout the rest of the night - not that you’d know until sunrise.

“Thank you, Craig!” Penelope waves the driver off as you laugh hysterically with Emily about something Spencer once did during a date he organised.

“He just, he was so sweet, but got it so wrong,” You wipe your eyes as tears fall whilst Penelope helps JJ up the stairs as you and Emily trail behind. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I had no interest in seeing Twilight, only Robert Pattinson.” You sigh, remembering how excited he was to take you to the cinema to see something not only in English but current.

“Spencer means well, I think his big ol’ brain gets in the way sometimes.” Emily comments as you reach Penelope’s apartment, barely having the chance to take it all in before you’re given a wine glass that’s being filled.

“Oh, Pen I can’t.” You whine, feeling a headache already in the works, but Penelope Garcia is not one to take no for an answer- especially on girls night.

“Let me ask you, ladies,” Penelope starts, and now you wish you just kept quiet. “when was our last girls night?”

Penelope watches as you all exchange glances, no one knowing the answer. “Like, a year ago?” Emily guesses, receiving a quick scoff from Penelope.

“Two and a half years ago.” Penelope states. “We’ve had team nights out, but not a girls night.” She adds as Emily collapses onto the sofa whilst maintaining a full glass of wine. “So, I’m making up for lost time,” Penelope lifts her glass up as she looks around at the three of you, just about hanging in there. “to the ladies of the BAU.”

With a cheer, your night carries on with more laughter and embarrassing memories whilst Spencer is having less of an enjoyable evening with his godson.

*

“Y/n, this is the tenth message I’ve left you after leaving fifteen to JJ, five to Emily and twenty-six to Garcia. You better not have died on me as I’ve rung every hospital in the district and have had Kevin hack Garcia’s phone to find her location.” Spencer sighs as he paces around the living room whilst Henry remains sound asleep in his bed.

Part of Spencer knows he’s being irrational, but it isn’t like you to not even answer a text let alone a phone call. He’s so used to you being on hand whenever- especially with the line of work you both do. So when you don’t answer, he can’t help but allow his mind to spiral into the dark depths of misfortune.

Glancing out of the window, Spencer could tell without looking at a clock it was almost sunrise. Approximately 5:37 in the morning and you along with the others were nowhere to be seen.

With a small sigh, Spencer dials your number once more, only to hear movement outside of JJ’s house and he tenses.

Reaching over into his satchel, Spencer grabs his gun as he hides by the living room door, hearing movement of the front door opening as hushed voices sound throughout the hallway.

“God, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?” You wince at the thought of Spencer scolding you for not getting back to him after you reviewed the dozens of messages and voicemails when you woke up twenty minutes ago.

JJ wraps her arms around you, bringing you into a hug but also to stabilise herself to stop the room spinning. “Spencer couldn’t possibly hate you, Y/n.” She assures you, seeing Spencer peer his head out from the corner of the living room and lower his gun. “That boy loves you more than you realise.”

Pulling away from JJ’s embrace, you sigh deeply into your hands. “I love him J, I just worry sometimes.” You mutter, unaware of Spencer standing behind you as his heart sinks. 

“You should tell him, Y/n.” JJ motions and you tense up, silently swearing before you turn around to face your rather tired looking boyfriend. “I’ll go check on Henry.” JJ mutters, quickly passing you both and heads up the stairs with caution. 

“I could never hate you, Y/n.” Spencer starts, “I was just worried about you and your safety.” He explains as he reaches out, resting his hand on your upper arm. “Did you have fun?” 

A small laugh leaves your lips as you nod. “Yeah,” You chuckle, focusing on the tired look in his hazel eyes. “I, I love you Spence.” You tell him as you fall into his arms, exhaustion beginning to take over your body as Spencer’s chuckle vibrates against your body. 

“I love you too, Y/n. Come on, you need to get some sleep.” Spencer guides you to the living room and you fall down with ease onto the couch. “Did you know the human body requires at least-”

Holding a finger up to Spencer, he pauses. “Spence, as much as I adore you and your facts, they are the last thing I need right now.” 

“Alright,” Spencer gives in as he pulls a blanket over you, ignoring the smudged and dried mascara beneath your eyes and the lingering smell of cocktails on your clothing. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He mutters as he wanders out to make some coffee, knowing you’d need it once you woke back up. 

*

“This is hell.” You state as you heavily lean against the railing alongside the girls whilst voices cheer around you, including Spencer. “I blame you, Pen.” 

Penelope merely groans as she pushes her sunglasses further up her face. 

“A couple of hours! No big deal!” Spencer emphasises as you roll your eyes, burying your face in your hands once again as he carries on cheering for the runners as they pass you all by in a blur. “You weren’t home until sunrise!”

“Why are you yelling.” JJ comments flatly whilst Derek glances over, holding his laugh in as he keeps Jack on his shoulders. 

“Make him stop.” Emily adds, and you nudge your boyfriend as he stops waving his flag frantically and focuses on you. 

“Next time, I’m either joining you in babysitting or you’re joining girls night.” You tell Spencer who smiles down at you before wrapping an arm around you, holding you close as you weakly smile through the pain of your hangover. 

“Deal.” Spencer leans down, kissing you softly before the cheers of your team increase as Hotch reaches the finish line. “Come on, I think breakfast is in order.” Spencer guides you away from the railing as you rely on him heavily as the girls follow behind. 

“Girls night happens every two years for a reason, I take it, baby girl?” Derek jokes as Penelope shushes him as you all gather around to celebrate Hotch’s achievement and block out the blur that last night has left on your memories. 

“What happens on girls night, stays on girls night.” Penelope simply states, refusing to say anymore as you walk ahead with Spencer, discussing more about his latest read, ‘Parenting 101.’ 

#just some saturday night fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid au #spencer reid writing #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds writing #mgg #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler imagines

[aries-writingblog]

Whatever It Takes

Summary: When Sam gets injured on a mission, YN will do anything to fix her mistakes. While she worries about fixing Sam, Bucky picks up on her guilt. Picking up the pieces of herself she dropped in her frantic efforts.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2322

Warnings: panic/ anxiety, mentions of blood and character injury

AN: This was one requested by the lovely and wonderful @cherry-season who gave me so much inspiration to write! I hope I did it justice. Happy reading!! GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break free of its skeletal cage. Anxious adrenaline flowed in her veins as she paced. Hand rubbing across the back of her neck, impatiently waiting for answers.

It had been an hour since she and Sam returned from their mission. The mission that went completely and horrendously wrong. It started off fine- it started normal. Then it got twisted in a way YN couldn’t even comprehend.

She had been watching his back. She always watched her partner’s back. So what went wrong? What went so off rails- what did she do? How could she have let this happen?

“Miss LN?” YN’s head snapped to the source of the noise. A doctor- still in their surgery gear. She took a shaky inhale, her nerves were decimated. “Why don’t you take a seat- just… try to relax a bit.”

“How- how, where is Sam? Is he okay?” She demanded, moving a step toward the doctor. The woman eased her backwards, gently settling her into a chair. Latex covered fingers pried in between her own glove covered hands. Unclenching the tightly wound fists she had created.

The doctor gave a small, apologetic smile. It quickly fell, giving way to a pressed line of condolence. YN’s stomach plummeted, nausea crawling across her organs. Turning her stomach. Bile rising in her throat. She knew that look. It was the one she had to give to victims when they weren’t going to make it.

“There’s been a slight complication.” She reported quietly, her gaze soft as she studied the agent before her. She was unraveling and quickly. Hands shaking, goosebumps raising on her arms.

“I don’t understand,” YN swallowed, throat aching as her nose burned. Eyes watering from unshed tears. Blurring her eyesight. She blinked them back roughly. “You said you would fix him- what complication?”

“Both kidneys were compromised during the mission- he made it here just in time for us to stabilize him but he is going to need a rapid organ donation to survive.” The doctor informed steadily, keeping her voice even and low. YN’s fingers curled again, trapping her hands between her own. The doctor didn’t blink, unfazed by the strength in her grip. “It’s a difficult task but we have everyone we can working on finding at least one quickly. It’s more complicated due to his blood type- we haven’t been able to find anything available nearby.”

YN sniffled, her nose stuffing up as water slipped down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste coating her tongue.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It had been an easy mission- what did she screw up? Why did it have to be Sam? It should’ve been her, she should’ve-

Her eyes snapped up, meeting the doctor’s concerned features. She could still do something. It wasn’t too late. YN released her hold, wiping across her face. Erasing the remnants of her distress. Her bottom lip trembled but she forced the sentence out anyway.

“What’s the type?”

“He’s O positive.” The doctor didn’t hesitate in a response.

A heavy weight began to lift from her chest, she swallowed back the rough, scratchy feeling in her throat.

“I’m O negative- does that work, can that match? I’ll give whatever he needs.” Her words tripped over themselves, rushing out. Any way to compensate. She was the one who got Sam hurt, she was responsible. She should clean it up.

The doctor’s face brightened almost instantaneously, her eyebrows lifting. Eyes wide.

“It can-“ She cut herself off, pulling YN to her feet. “We need to run a tissue sample test to make sure that you’re compatible. While it’s running, fill out the paperwork just in case.”

YN rushed after the woman, hurrying through the hallways. She could save Sam. The guilt burned in her chest, sinking to meet the rising anxiety in her stomach. Creating a turbulent, vile mixture of self loathing. It had to match… this has to work. Otherwise… she would forever be known as the person who killed Sam Wilson.

~~~~~~

The first thing she became conscious of was a tense pressure on her hand. Then came a muted, muffled noise. It was familiar, albeit distorted and distant. A small groan fell from her lips. In response, the pressure became more intense. A firmer hold. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her head felt light, as if it was floating a thousand feet above her body.

“There she is.” YN turned her head as far as possible, which wasn’t much distance, eyes cutting the rest of the way. She tried to clear her vision, blinking to wear the groggy remnants of sleep away. “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, throat scratchy and dry. Bucky released his hold, standing to pour a glass of water for her.

“Well, it’s to be expected.” He sighed, stepping closer to her bedside. He grasped her chin gently, angling the lip of the cup to her mouth. Tilting the glass slowly, allowing her time to swallow the water down greedily. “Unlike a major surgery cause, there’s no need to tell the people you love you’re having surgery. Especially not if it’s emergent.”

YN’s lips quirked at the corners. She hadn’t really been thinking of anyone but Sam in the moment. It all happened so fast, the whole day seemed to have been but a blur in her memory. She couldn’t recall details, her thoughts crashed against a hazy wall as she glimpsed back.

“Sorry… didn’t really know what was happening until it did.” She spoke slowly, words felt like molasses on her tongue. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, gently brushing her hair back before returning to his previous seat at her bedside. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“I understand…” He told her, a soft smile playing on his features. There was a melancholy glimmer in his irises. They betrayed him, as usual. “I was just scared that you… left.”

All Bucky had received was a phone call from the medical wing. Just that he was written down as YN LN’s emergency medical contact and that she had been in surgery. Granted, it had mainly been his fault- he didn’t listen any further for more details. The phone dropped from his hand and he bolted from their shared apartment. Rushing frantically toward her. Panic sloshing, ripping into his chest. Shredding his last hopes of sanity as his thoughts raced.

YN moved her fingers up to his wrist, the bass of his heartbeat thumped prominently into her own body. In response, Bucky’s fingers curled over her wrist, searching for the same feeling. It was slightly weakened, her heartbeat, but it was there. She was alive. A gentle, sleepy smile appeared on her lips. Eyes almost closed again.

“I’m never leaving.” She promised, applying pressure to his wrist. Bucky returned the smile and the gesture, the knot of emotion in his throat unraveling in steady increments. Allowing him to breathe easier.

He reached over, tugging her blankets back up with his free hand. Over her torso in an attempt to contain some of the heat the flimsy hospital sheets provided. He sniffed, clearing his throat. Turning his face away from her view.

“Get some rest, daredevil.” Bucky instructed, sliding his chair closer. Head resting beside their entwined hands. His blue eyes twinkled with tears he had kept bottled away. All YN wanted was to reach over and brush them away but she felt unconsciousness creeping up from behind. Waiting to drag her back into the darkness. Her mouth wouldn’t open, tongue wouldn’t move. Her eyes drifted closed; her last picture was Bucky’s beautiful face resting beside her.

~~~~~~

Bucky sighed gently, curling closer into the warmth she provided. They couldn’t sleep like they used to. He was accustomed to wrapping around her like a vine, keeping her body close to him. The weight, the pressure and warmth, kept him present. Kept him calm. Even if he awoke in a panic, which had eased in the past few months, the feeling of YN’s figure pressed to his always seemed to relieve his frazzled, frayed nerves.

But now, after the surgery, he couldn’t hold her the way he wanted. He couldn’t provide the comfort he craved to give her. And she needed it. He wasn’t blind. Bucky knew exactly why she had rushed into that surgery. The blame that she had placed on herself was too vast. Much too heavy for her to bear alone.

So he tried to convey the comfort in other ways. Helping her to the bathroom and to the shower. Making her meals and sitting with her while she ate. Reading to her, going through as many pages as it took for her to fall asleep. Keeping her distracted from her bed rest. Bringing her presents, mostly just notes that Sam had written and asked Bucky to deliver.

Sam didn’t blame her. Especially not after she saved his life like she did. Bucky had visited when he woke up, explained the situation. How she felt, how it was eating away at her. And he couldn’t get out of bed yet- he was still being heavily monitored by the medical staff. So, for the past few weeks he had resorted to video calls and notes to her. An attempt to cheer her up. Bucky was relieved to see it was working.

“Buck?” YN’s voice was muffled by their shared comforter. He hummed in response, not fully committed to the idea of waking up. His senses were still slightly dull, lulled into submission by the warm body at his side. “Your arm is really heavy and I really have to pee.”

Bucky grunted, shuffling to slide his arm away from her hips where it had lain. YN shimmied over to the edge of the bed, groaning as she pushed her weight over the side. She stumbled, her hand pressed to the gauze padding on her abdomen. Bucky scrambled out of the bed, sheets tangling around his ankles.

“You’re not suppose to do it on your own.” He grumbled, his tone was sleep- laden. His eyes weren’t even fully open yet. YN scoffed, accepting his arm anyway. Together, they crept toward the bathroom slowly, most of her weight against his side. “You coulda asked, doll.”

“I can handle going to the bathroom by myself, Bucky.” YN insisted, her side glare was fatal. Eyes narrowed and full of frustrated fury. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“But I want to.” He replied simply, leaning against the doorframe, gazing into the bedroom to give her privacy. He didn’t need to, he had already been witness to every inch of her skin. Every mark on her skin, every freckle and scar. But he figured she would appreciate it none the less. Give her a controllable amount of autonomy. “I like doing it.”

It was the honest truth. Bucky reveled in the fact that every ounce of his attention was placed on her and her alone. He liked to care for her. He liked making her coffee and meals, helping her up and down. It was something he knew the old Bucky did often. The old Bucky took care of Steve when he was sick, and Steve’s mother when he could help. When his sisters were under the weather. It was something engraved in his bones: caring for those he loved. Providing comfort.

“It’s rotten work.” YN’s voice was quiet, the running water almost drowned the words out. But Bucky heard them. He turned slowly, giving her a hand towel to dry her hands. Her eyes were down, staring at the fabric between her fingers. Taking her time, hoping he would move past her sentence.

“Not to me,” Bucky responded. His fingertip brushed against her cheekbone, wisps of her hair passing through his fingers. He tucked them gently behind her ear before tilting her chin up. Persuading her watery eyes to meet his. He smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes portraying the overflowing kindness he couldn’t vocalize. “Not if it’s you.”

YN chuckled, a weak smile on her lips. Shaking her head, she carefully shuffled forward. Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Bucky’s response was instant. Instinctively holding her delicately to his body. Molded against the other. He inhaled deeply, the smell of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. YN pressed closer, the swell of his chest was achingly comforting. His t- shirt soft against her cheek.

“What do you say, I steal a wheelchair and we go up to Tony’s floor. We can bribe his chef to make some of those pancakes with the…” Bucky’s nose scrunched, brows furrowing. His fingertips that had been tracing shapes on her back stilled as he wracked his brain. Mouth twisting with frustration when he came up blank. “What’s the… those color things, again?”

“Sprinkles?” She suggested, pressing her chin to his chest. He glanced down, their noses almost pressed together. Bucky grinned, leaning forward to smack a kiss to her nose.

“Those. How bout we get some of those and we can meet Sam for breakfast?” He asked, squeezing her hips lightly. She nodded, successfully distracted from her thoughts that had been rampant in her head.

“Can he eat those yet? Isn’t he on, like, a hospital diet or something?” YN inquired, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Bucky hummed, helping her hobble out of the bathroom. He had tried carrying her places but she vehemently disagreed. Claiming she would never get better if she didn’t exercise. Eventually, as always, she would get tired and most of her weight would be on him anyways. He didn’t mind it.

“That sounds like a Sam problem.”

“You’re ridiculous, James Barnes.” He grinned at her laughter. His fingertips digging into her side teasingly.

“It’s all for you, sugar. All for you.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

[mandoalorian]

Pain Is For The Living [Javier Peña x F!Reader] - Chapter 2 (SMUT)

Summary: Sex work in the heat of 1980’s Colombia was never going to be a walk in the park. Especially not when you had a crush on your number one client, agent Javier Peña. You’d been warned about him and his reputation, but after one very specific incident that would change your life forever, you find yourself attached to him like never before and you’d do anything to make him yours. Even if it means endangering your own life.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (protected p in v), allusions to sex, reader works in a brothel, PTSD, anxiety, panic attack, mention of drugs, guns, character death, typical Narcos themes.

Word count: 4000>

Pain Is For The Living Masterlist

*reblogs appreciated! Ko-Fi in bio if you want to support me!

The office was dead, like it had been for the last three weeks. No new leads. Nothing. The days dragged and honestly, it felt like the case was growing colder and colder. Escobar had gone completely off the grid, hiding out in La Catedral, his very own self-built prison in the depths of Medellín. But the DEA didn’t know that yet. So, they made an attempt to shift focus, at least just for now. After all, any narco they captured would be a win. They’d been tracing Juan Diego Diaz, otherwise known as La Quica, believing that the sicario would eventually lead them to Escobar himself. But La Quica was just as cunning as any other narco and following him was not an easy challenge. If it wasn’t for Steve Murphy, the DEA would’ve most likely shifted focus again - but Murphy and La Qucia went way back. In 1981, just a few years ago, La Quica shot dead Kevin Brady, Steve’s old partner back from Miami, and so to say that Steve had a personal feud against La Quica was an understatement.

Javier Peña didn’t realise he was about to gain a whole vendetta against him too.

Within a second, every phone in the damn embassy began to ring. Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy exchanged a glance, and their eyes trailed up to Horacio Carrillo who answered the call. “Colonel Carrillo,” he introduced himself. Javier and Steve watched as their colleague took in the information on the other end of the line. Carillo erratically gestured for a notepad and pen, and Steve quickly threw him one his way. “Wait, wait… are you sure? Are you sure you saw him? How many eyes? With another man? Who? Who?” Carillo pressed pencil to paper and began to scribble the details down. “How many dead?... Shit, okay. We’re on our way now.”

Carrillo slammed the phone down on the hook and took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face in dismay. “We got eyes on La Quica,” he announced, and Steve immediately grabbed the handgun from his desk drawer and shoved it into his jeans. The whole office cheered, apart from Javier and Steve. This was good news considering the DEA had no lead whatsoever for the past three weeks, but if Carrillo’s demeanor over the phone was anything to go by, Javier and Steve knew they shouldn’t be celebrating just yet. “No. No,” Carrillo chanted, raising his voice in order to silence the rest of the department. “Three hookers. Dead. Shot.”

Javier froze up completely as he processed the words.

“By La Quica?” Steve beckoned, his voice dripping with venom.

“We don’t know. But we have eyes on him. He was seen.”

“Where?” Javier asked finally, his face expression stone cold.

Carrillo eyed Javier up and down, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat. He knew it was the brothel that Javier frequented...and Javier Peña was quite unpredictable. So, after taking a brief moment to prepare for Javier’s reaction, Carrillo finally gave the name of the location. “Desiderio.”

Desiderio. It was the brothel where you worked. His eyes flicked over to the wallclock before his gaze met back with Carrillo’s dark eyes. He had literally been there, with you, two hours ago. If he had just gone two hours later… he could’ve put a stop to the attack. Hell, he could’ve been the one to find an arrest La Quica. But Javier’s hero complex was short lived when all he could think about was you.

“Do we have names?” Javier asked. “Who was killed?”

What if it had been you? What would Javier do then? You were younger than the other girls, polite and bright eyed. You were brand new to Colombia, and Javier swore you were too good for the dangerous life you had managed to get yourself caught up in. Being a sex worker in 1980’s Bogotá? It was only a matter of time something happened to you. 

“No names,” Carrillo confirmed. “Peña, with all due respect, I ask that you go in and investigate the scene. You know the girls better than anyone else in the department. Maybe you could identify some of the bodies.”

It was like time was frozen, and Javier felt sick to his core. Javier was used to death and bloodshed; this was a war on drugs - however, it hit different when it was close to home. When it was a place he had been, or it was people who he knew.

Javier Peña was a complicated man. He didn’t talk about himself or his feelings. Truth be told, he didn’t even let himself feel. But right now, as anger swirled in his stomach, he decided he wasn’t going to waste anytime at all. He paced back over his desk and grabbed his handgun before bolting to the car that was already waiting outside for him. All eyes followed Javier’s movements but no one dared to make a comment. Apart from Bill Stechner, of course.

“Not everyday you see the department of drug enforcement’s noted womanizer get worked up over a whorehouse shooting,” Bill commented, a smug grin playing on his lips. “Didn’t think agent Peña had it in him.”

“Shut the fuck up Bill.” Steve rolled his eyes, not even bothering to humour the CIA agent’s out-of-pocket remark. Everyone in the district knew about Javier Peña’s reputation with the ladies. But of course, you were new.

“The Search Bloc and I will go after La Quica. Steve, you stay on the down low with agent Peña and investigate the crime scene. We’ll have guards protecting you from outside the brothel.”

“I want to go after La Quica.” Steve argued but Carrillo pointed a finger.

“No. You stay with Javi. Partners,” Carrillo reminded the blonde haired man. “Besides, you’re the DEA’s best photographer.” Carrillo smirked, thrusting a Polaroid camera into Steve’s chest. Steve let out a low grumble in response, before shaking his head and following Javier out of the office. Partners. And right now, Steve saw the primal glint in Javier’s eye. Agent Peña was seeing red.

As both Javier and Steve were being transported to Desiderio, Javier made an attempt to dial a number on the carphone multiple times. Your number. Of course it was a dead line. And that only worked up Javier more. The never ending ringing sound signified that you weren’t there, and Javier’s heart was pounding against his chest. It was the same kind of adrenaline as when he found Helena tortured by Gacha’s men in Medellín. Steve knew better than to ask his friend who he was so desperately trying to call, but it was the last of his instincts to assume it was one of the sex workers from the brothel. Because renowned womanizer Javier Peña didn’t form attachments, especially not to women, right?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At some point or another, you had passed out. Maybe you’d cried yourself to the point of exhaustion. Maybe the reality of what you had seen had hit you like a ton of bricks and you had fainted. How could you possibly know? But when Javier and Steve stormed the lobby of your workplace, you were laying on top of Rosa’s body, as still as could be. And that’s when Javier’s heart sank.

You weren’t moving, and his mind shot to the worst possible outcome. He raced over to you and fell on his knees, dragging your body off Rosa and cradling you in his arms. You were absolutely saturated in your best friends blood, and by holding you, now Javier was too. He briefly glanced down at Rosa and placed a hand on her forehead, trying to feel for any sign of warmth -  any sign of life. Javi sighed and ran his hand through his dark locks of hair before bringing it back down to you. He cooed your name a few times, desperate to earn some sort of reaction. Thankfully, on the third calling, you stirred a little, indicating that you were in fact alive.

Your perfect eyes fluttered open and in that moment, Javi swore his heart stopped. Thank God you were breathing. “You’re safe now,” Javier whispered. “I’ve got you.”

“Javi?” you asked in disbelief. Surely not. The way he was holding you was the most affectionate he’d ever been with you, and it felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe you were dead and this was your journey to the afterlife. God was finally giving you a chance with the one you loved so much. You said his name again, raising a shaky hand to cup his cheek. You brushed your thumb over his jaw and along his mustache, and when you smelt his familiar musky cologne, you knew you were somehow going to be okay.

Javier picked you up and carried you back to the car. “We have a survivor!”

Steve replied but to you it was just a haze. You could hardly keep your eyes open and when you did, everything was a blur. Your clothes were stuck to your skin, due to the mixture of blood, sweat and tears. You knew the second you were outside because the orange setting son burned against your skin. You stirred and mumbled, but Javier smoothed out your hair and hushed you. He opened the back seat of the DEA car and lay you down.

“Hey, hey listen, I’m DEA,” Javier whispered. “I don’t talk about it, but I’m here to help you. I need to head back inside now and help my partner out, but I won’t be long. I promise.” As Javier turned to leave, you grabbed his hand and he looked back at you.

“Please don’t go.” you sniffed, tears free falling down your cheeks.

And normally, Javier would’ve shrugged it off. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t just stick around you because you felt unsafe. They had counsellor’s back at the embassy for that. All he had to do was use the carphone and call them out. It wouldn’t take him two minutes. The only problem was, Javier didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want anyone else to hold you and comfort you. He wanted it to be him.

So, he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and slid into the back seat next to you. He maneuvered your body so your head was resting against his jean clad lap, and he continued to smooth out your hair. Despite your red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, you were still so beautiful.

“Hermosa, what happened back there?” he asked quietly after a moment. Between you and Javier, there was never an uncomfortable silence. It was his job to find out, but asking you straight up when you were so clearly traumatized, felt insensitive. Nevertheless, what else was there to say? He had to do it sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry.” Javier mused, closing his dark brown eyes as he mourned.

“They killed Rosa,” you whispered shakily, doing your absolute best to remain composed and not fall back into an abundance of tears. Javier looked out the car window and held back a sigh. Well, he knew they killed Rosa already. “And Juliet and Martzia.”

Javier didn’t know who Juliet and Martzia were, but his heart sank at the revelation. Three deaths that could’ve been stopped.

“La Quica,” you croaked, and Javier’s head snapped to face you. “Was his name. But there were two, I think.”

La Quica… that was the name Carrillo had come up with. It was who the DEA had spent so much time looking for. But two? That was the first he’d heard of it. Carrillo and the cop department only had eyes on La Quica.

“Do you know the name of the other man? Or what he looked like?”

You did. At one point, his name rang like bells in your ears. He was friends with Rosa, or so you had thought. You knew his name… you knew his face until suddenly you didn’t. You couldn’t make sense of it or understand it, but it was like everything that happened back there had just become a fuzzy blur. It still hurt so much but… you couldn’t match actions to faces, or names to bodies. All you could see was Rosa and her sacrifice. All you could see was the way her body fell to the ground, crumpled up in a pool of her own blood. And then the screams and cries.

“Are you okay?” Javier asked due to the delay in communication. Your mouth felt dry and your fingers felt numb. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I can take you home, but the embassy is gonna want to interview you at some point in the near future. La Quica is dangerous, and I don’t know who this other guy is but I wouldn’t feel good about bringing you back to your apartment and leaving you there. I can send over additional security measures but, listen. I know you. And,” Javier took a deep breath not sure if he was about to regret the proposal. “If you’d prefer, you can come back to my place. Stay there for a few days. High security and you’ll be with me. Someone you know. I know that, if I was you, I wouldn’t wanna be alone right now.”

And for the very first time, your pretty plush lips curled into a smile. “You’d really do that for me?” You whimpered, nuzzling your face into his shirt.

“Of course.” Javier hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

Was it unprofessional, inviting you over to live with him for the foreseeable future, the moment you had become an essential asset to the case? Yes. Fuck yes. But Javier Peña was not someone who played by the rules. He’d done this plenty of times before, when he shouldn’t have… but it was truly the right thing to do. Besides, you weren’t like any other informants. He knew you. He cared about you, more so than he’d like to admit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were very sleepy, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk all that much. Javier understood better than anyone. He helped you out the car, carried you through the embassy apartment complex, unlocked his door (albeit with great difficulty), threw his keys haphazardly on the kitchen counter and gently plopped you down on the brown leather couch. Pulled out a crocheted blanket, he wrapped it over you, ensuring your warmth. He padded into the kitchen and filled you a glass of tepid water before looking in the refrigerator. Empty. Javier didn’t cook. In fact, he rarely even ate. When he did eat, it was take-out or fast food. Something quick and easy that he didn’t have to bother with. But now he had company. He sighed, and closed the fridge, glancing back at your sleeping body. He figured he’d have to go grocery shopping.

He picked up the phone and dialled Steve’s number, but his wife, Connie was the one who picked up. “Hey Con, Steve there?”

“Yeah. But he’s pissed with you Javi.” Connie sighed on the other end of the line. Javier scowled. He understood. It seemed like he pissed off people quite easily.

“Could you put him on?”

Connie didn’t reply but judging from the scuffling, Javier assumed she was handing the phone to her husband.

“Javi,” (“Steve,”)

“What’s up?” (“I need to ask you a favour,”)

“After today’s stunt? Not a chance.” (“Y/N was a mess, Steve. One of her best friends died in the shoot-out. I wasn’t just going to leave her,”)

“Javier Peña. Ever the hero. What do you need?” (Groceries. She’s gonna be staying with me for a few days. I can use the time I spend with her to gain her trust. Try and work out what exactly went on,”)

“Javi, she’s vulnerable. She’ll need therapy. You really want to use her as an informant?” (We’ll get her therapy from the embassy. Steve, I don’t think we have any other choice.”)

“I just think it’s a bad idea, but, it’s your call Peña.” (“I’m going to head to the market before it closes. Can you or Connie come over to watch her? She’s asleep so she won’t be much trouble.”)

“We have Olivia.” (“So bring her. Or don’t. I don’t care. Steve, please.”)

Javier waited patiently through a silence followed by a long sigh. “Okay Jav, but you owe us. We’ll be over in five minutes.”

“Thanks Steve, I’ll see you soon.”

Javier put the phone down on the hook quietly and padded back over to the sofa where you slept, crouching down and taking your hand. You didn’t deserve this. You were so soft and full of life, and everytime Javier saw you at the brothel you were always beaming. You were too good for this life. He knew you’d get hurt, one of these days, but that didn’t mean it was right. And suddenly, Javier was filled with vengeance. He couldn’t bear to think how the shoot-out would come to affect you, but he knew, in that moment, he would seek justice. Too many deaths, too close to home. Javier whispered your name, his breath fanning over your ear. You were somewhere in between consciousness. You could feel his presence but everything felt so dream-like. “If you can hear me, I’m going to head to the store. Buy us some food, okay? I won’t be long, and I have friends who will be watching over you. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Javier said before pressing another kiss to your forehead. He just couldn’t resist it. You stirred upon feeling the bristle of his mustache graze your skin and he drew his face away, not wanting to wake you completely.

“Hi Liv,” Javi cooed, leaning down to Steve and Connie’s little girl and pulling a face.

“So that’s her?” Connie asked, putting Olivia down.

“Yeah,” Javier sighed, and began to introduce you.

“Why do I get the feeling that you know her?” Steve quirked an eyebrow and Javier felt his cheeks flush with heat. “Are you one of her regulars?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah, I suppose I am,” Javier retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Con, if I’m gonna cook her dinner, what would you recommend?”

Connie stifled a laugh before turning to Steve. “Steve, you hungry? Javier’s offering to cook.”

“Hey that’s not what I meant--”

“He does owe us…” Steve smirked. “Paella sounds good.”

Fucking paella. 

“I could just bring her Taco Bell,” Javier considered out loud.

“I like paella.” Steve reiterated.

“Me too,” Connie agreed. “Paella is delicious.”

“Everyone likes paella.” Steve commented.

“Oh my god would you shut the fuck up about paella?” Javier groaned, causing Connie and Steve to laugh in unison. 

“Make her paella and bring us the leftovers,” Steve grinned, patting his friend on the shoulder. “And be quick about it.”

“Whatever, Murph.” Javier sighed, rolling his eyes before grabbing his wallet and car keys.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Seeing Nina working as the supermarket cashier was the last thing Javier expected.

“Javi?” she smiled that familiar gorgeous smile, her eyes sparkling as she scanned through the items of food. “It’s so good to see you. Been a while.” she commented, her gaze not leaving the agent’s once. 

And for the first time in a long while, Javier smiled. The stress of the stake-out and investigating the brothel, and taking you home had been a lot on him, but seeing his ex-girlfriend helped bring him back down to earth. If Nina could even be called ‘ex-girlfriend’. It wasn’t ever official, but he and Nina had been fucking on and off for around 6 months last summer and Javier was actually committed to Nina during that time. She came into his life unexpectedly, to say the least.

“How long have you worked here?” Javier charmed as he bagged the groceries.

“Two months, it’s been good to get out of the house,” Nina grinned. “You're still working for the DEA I assume?”

“Yeah.” Javier hummed, quickly reminding himself of you and the way you were sleeping on his sofa. He looked back up from the bag of rice and at Nina. Come to think of it, she resembled you quite a bit. Same hair colour, eye colour, skin tone… only she wasn’t as distinct. She didn’t have that flare about her, like you did. Maybe Javier had a type after all. 

“I get off work now,” Nina announced, flicking her wrist upright and checking the time on her watch. “Are you busy or? I was thinking… it would be nice to catch up, maybe, if you wanted.” Nina ducked her head down awkwardly.

Javier didn’t forget about you once. He didn’t forget about the fact he had a traumatized sex worker sleeping on his couch, or how he’d invited his partner and his partner’s family over to watch over you while he got ‘groceries’. But catching up with Nina would be nice. The right thing to do would be to reject Nina, and perhaps make plans to see her when Javier wasn’t so swamped with work commitments (if he could even call you that). But this was Javier Peña. He supposed Steve and Connie could wait just a little while longer, besides, they’d never find out. Javier was a good liar. He could make up some excuse about having to travel to a different grocery store or something. So, he agreed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nina’s apartment had barely changed since she and Javier had ended things. Still quaint, decorated with plants in every corner and full bookshelves. It was a clash of tongues and teeth as Nina navigated inside of her home, not pulling away from Javier once. She moaned against his lips and he grabbed onto her back, pinning her against the wall and knocking a few things off the coffee table.

“Missed this,” Javier confessed, nudging his nose against Nina. In the moment, he’d forgotten why he’d ended things in the first place. Nina wrapped her hands in Javi’s dark hair and tugged on the locks at the nape of his neck. Javier groaned wantonly and reattached his lips to hers as she let her hands maneuver down his body, unbuttoning his shirt and working at the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck Ni.”

She pulled off him and began to discard her clothes. “Bedroom Javi, I have condoms.” she hummed, taking Javier’s hand and guiding him through her apartment as if he didn’t already know the way. He’d never forgotten, really. 

This was wrong. On so many levels, this was wrong. He should be back home, with you. If anyone was to find out about this… well, Steve would be furious, for a start. But Javier genuinely couldn’t stop thinking about you. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, because if he wanted to be with you so bad he could easily just go back to his place and sit with you on the couch. The idea of that wasn’t the worst in the world. But also, he was about to get laid by Nina who looked so much like you… he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He was whipped. Thinking about your lips on his… your hands caressing his muscles. She might have resembled you, but she tasted different, her voice was different, and her attitude. She just wasn’t you. 

Once Javi was all wrapped up, he pushed into Nina, and settled deep, his movements rough and fast. He grabbed onto her tits and gave them a squeeze, but they just didn’t feel like yours. They’d do though, for now. His grunts and her moans filled the room as she chanted his name, and he could feel himself nearing orgasm. He dipped his head in the crook of her neck, biting down on her skin that just wasn’t as soft as yours, and as his dick throbbed inside of Nina, and when he reached his climax, he made the biggest mistake of all.

He gasped your name like it was the sweetest prayer to leave his lips. He was fucking Nina but shit, he said your name.

Javier Peña said your name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor​ @pedro-pastel​

PIFTL Taglist: @blo0dangel​ @daisychainsinknots​ @shitilovestarwars​ @midnightartemis​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @pulplorrd​ @obsessivelysearching​ @mustbeaweasleyginger​ @jennebeanfics​​ let me know if you wish to be added!

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javi pena #javi peña #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #narcos

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: three monstera leaves. The leaves and wall are tinted purple by string lights behind the plant. In the middle, in a white serif font and all caps, reads “LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS��. At the bottom, in the same font but smaller, reads “update #1″ /end id]

LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS | UPDATE #1

Before I start, this is an autistic OwnVoices novel and it’s Autism Acceptance Month! Remember that awareness is passive and acceptance is active. And whilst this book is autistic OwnVoices I want to stress that it doesn’t cover the full autistic experience; autism is so individualistic and  this story only stems from my experience. Make sure you to listen to all autistics, not just those who can speak and live independently and present in a way that suits neurotypical society. Support autistic creatives and if you’re also a creative, include autistic characters in your work! Autism is not a disease. It does not need to be cured. 

Hey y’all! This has sure been a week! I gave myself the goal of 15,000 words for Camp Nano and somehow hit that in 5 days? I have literally never written at that pace before so I’m a little shocked lol. I don’t intend to keep that pace but the momentum has made drafting very fun and? drafting this has been a literal dream. I was really worried because March was a month long slump I expected to carry into April. I want to disclaim that I’m currently out of school and work because of the pandemic so I have all the free time to write and that definitely contributed! But also as a neurodivergent and disabled writer, free time does not always equal writing, so to know that I am capable of writing like this, even if not always, it is Such a gamechanger. Also this story makes me miss University so much I actually can’t take it :( 

LCOMS has been a dream so far because the protagonists are all characters I’ve had for 5-8 years, and | spent those years struggling to figure out their stories. Even when I settled on this story, originally Patchwork, there was like 4 versions of it before I landed on this - none ever drafted beyond a couple thousand words because they just Never Worked. But the wait was worth it because holy shit I feel like I struck gold. This story feels so me, it’s so much fun to write, and I don’t think a story has come to me this easy before. It’s given me such a zest for storytelling again that I didn’t realise was missing. I’m slowing things down now because creative boundaries and self care >>>>, but I just passed 19k words - though some of the chapters are very unfinished because my priority has been mapping out the story’s skeleton as far as I can, then filling in the gaps based off what I learnt. I wanna put a passage before the cut so it’s not just me rambling about bullshit and no content, but it’s hard to pick just one, so here’s a non-linear scene that I :) cannot elaborate on :)

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: the side of a ferris wheel against black sky. The wheel is lit white, but at the bottom it’s coloured a mix of pink, blue and green. At the top, in a white serif font, reads “The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. “ /end id]

Picture this: December 17th. End of term. End of year. Cloudless night, stars winking. Fargate glows, market stalls lit by yellow fairy lights line the street like candle stubs, gently burning. It’s raining. It has all day. Dampened your new beanie and scarf but you’re not mad, even if you’ll cringe at the texture when you take them off later. The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. Your eyes and feet ache, but you’re not mad. And the mulled wine that buzzed warm in your bloodstream now coils in your stomach, but you’re not mad. You’re queuing for the technicolour wheel, even though you know it’ll be underwhelming and a waste of £4, but you’re not mad. Chocolate is usually too sweet for you, but he bought a pack of snowflake shaped ones - each carved with their own design - and when he passes the paper bag over you don’t say no. They taste like raspberry. He grins at you.

I have once again written a long update because I am autistic and have no self control; more excerpts and chapter-by-chapter rambles are as usual under the cut!

(content warnings are specific to the respective excerpt, but as a general warning there’s a lot of alcohol mentions!)

Originally I wanted 3 parts for 3 semesters, but I might do 2? Especially because in the UK at least the spring and summer semester kinda blend into one. The chapters are grouped by 3 - one for every POV character - but that’s more to help with writing because I get more done if I break it down like that, but I also like how it’s shaped the story structurally. 

Sometimes the three chapters will be each of the character’s POV on a single event, sometimes they’re more individual but still follow a general idea (for example, one of them is how each character’s first three weeks of the semester goes). As usual for me the plot here is ~non-existent, especially at this stage, but everything is still connected and threaded together and thats all we really need. The chapters are also pretty short at the moment, none of them are over 3k and only tackle 1-3 scenes. This is something I feel is working really nicely now but I’m not gonna commit to it for the entire novel. I like chapter length variety! But right now we are just going with the flow :)

The most unexpected part is this being in second person, which I decided impulsively the night before Nano because I have :) zero self control :). I was unsure if it’d work in Multi POV, but it’s created such a unique tone that I can’t imagine the story without anymore, even if it’ll need tweaking over drafts. I think it suits the story so well! I’m just torn about it being in past or present, so if you see tense jumps in the excerpts no you did not <3 I’m not naming chapters right now beyond the character’s name, but part one is titled Growing Pains.

[image description: photo of a city at night. To the left are skyscrapers with lots of lit up windows behind a chain-link fence. To the right is an unlit building. Near the middle is a bright streetlight. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “growing pains”. /end id]

 1: Tomas

We start in the most overrated part of Uni, fresher’s week <3 The drinking and clubbing culture of UK university is a big part of this novel but in a way that’s like “hey this can be fun sometimes but sometimes it’s really not and it’s also really not for everyone.” Our three POVs go to a club night and really don’t care for it. Tomas does not want to be here, is in a weird as shit mood, and instead of looking for his friends he goes to the smoking area with a man he just met called Damiano. I really wanna rewrite this because I wrote it with Zero Idea of where the story was going, so here’s the one part of it that I consider salvageable <3 

Damiano shoves his phone in your hands, brightness puncturing darkness. You hadn’t noticed the dimmed lights until then, but the room blued, music and time slowed. Though his notes are on dark mode, his phone brightness is on two fucking high. Your eyes sting. Cracks travel up the screen like veins.

Each character also has a specific image they keep seeing in things that are never actually there and they all make me like 🤠 hey besties what do these mean are you okay?? I Do Not know what they mean yet, but Tomas’ is veins. (Also shout out to me for finally settling on a spelling for his name after 5 years and by that I mean thank you to my friends for peer pressuring me into choosing Tomas lol)

My absolute favourite part of this story is the character voices. They are all SO fun to write, and I feel like I settled into a good combo of My Literary Prose Bullshit and they’re very specific, often very sarcastic voices. They also say fuck like, so many fucking times. RIP to me if I decide to query this <3 

2: Kristen

Okay first off Kristen is THE funniest character I’ve written. He is SO fun. I wish I was his bestie but he’s also been my bestie since 2013. We meet him in the gender neutral bathrooms being annoyed by a very rich and very tone deaf girl. Classism and the UK class divide is one of the biggest themes of this novel, and Kristen is a very proud working class Northerner (the North is massively underfunded and unsupported by the Gov compared to the South) and cannot stand the Tories (Conservative Party). Extremely fucking valid of him

(CW: blood)

“I’m Floss. Florence.” Of course she was. Fucking Florence. “Where are you from?”

You don’t look at her. Eyes on your reflection, the glittered cheekbones. You busy yourself with your eyeliner, gliding the pen over gaps and smudges that don’t exist. “Barnsley, babe.” It’s only a half lie this time - if you tell her you were born in Liverpool she’d probably look at you like you’re a dead rat on the side of a dodgy alleyway. But maybe that’d be better because then she’d leave you the fuck alone. 

“Oh! That’s like well close isn’t it. I’m from Reigate.” Her voice breathes trust fund and Waitrose, tries to speak like it doesn’t. You try not to laugh.

“Reigate! I bet your parents are right little Tories, aren’t they?”

She playfully slapped your shoulder. She thinks you’re friends. "Not every rich person is a Tory!” Don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes. “Is that blood on your hands?” 

“Huh?” You look: faded red dye dried to your palm, blotted on your fingertips. It is dye, because your hair is as of four hours ago a fierce “Real Red”. But it could be blood. “No, it’s hair dye.”

If you think he’s being harsh, she literally calls him a slur like 3 lines after this <3 Fuck rich people half of this book is me clowning on them. 

Kristen’s recurring Imagery is blood, except sometimes it’s less clear if it’s actually blood or not. Once again, besties are you okay ????

3: Junie

Junie my beloved <3 love her so much. She finds Kristen in the bathroom, and they agree to look for Tomas, until Tomas texts to say he already left. But the biggest part of this chapter is the absolute crisis she has over kissing for a girl for the first time to ABBA :) 

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: a disco ball against a red-purple background. The disco ball casts dots of light against the across the ceiling. At the bottom, in a white serif font, reads:  “Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass.” /end id]

You don’t listen to 80s music, or 70s, but this room is smaller than the main floor, not claustrophobic, less freshers. Yet, even without the mask of a crowd, nobody notices the girl in the corner kissing the other girl. A girl you don’t know. You’d only gone up to her because she has purple hair and you had to tell her how much you love it - what dye is it? Professional or homemade? Did you have to bleach your hair? Professional or homemade? Will your hair fall out if you bleach it at home? If you dye your hair purple, do you become part of the Milky Way or part of Andromeda? She turns and sticks her tongue out to display her fresh tongue piercing, like a silver bullet lodged in flesh. “Dance with me, you look lost.” She has an allure to her, the Andromeda hair, the bullet in the tongue - do you want to pull it out with your teeth, or lodge it in your own skin? But she asks you to dance, and you fall into her orbit, if only for a few songs. Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass. Her tongue in your mouth, yours in hers, bullet grazing against your lips. She tastes of vodka and cherries and metal.

I really, really feel for Junie. She’s recently out, and she’s only just navigating what it means to exist as a lesbian. She kisses a girl and immediately regrets it, because she’s a hopeless romantic and was hoping her first kiss with a girl wouldn’t be in the back of a club, but she also doesn’t regret it because it was a good kiss and they’ll never see each other again lol. Junie’s recurring imagery is glass and once again, besties are you okay 

4: Junie

I don’t know how I feel about back to back POV chapters but that’s just how this set worked. The next 3 are immediately after the events of the first 3, after they’ve all left the club. Kristen and Junie walk home together, and most of this and his subsequent chapter is establishing relationship dynamics and <3 this story made me love writing dialogue y’all. This story has a lot of dark elements, so it’s really refreshing to be able to have the light-hearted moments as well. Like these characters are all going through it but they’re also Gen Z 20 year olds who grew up using humour to cope like what else are they meant to do 

“We should’ve got that flat on Brunswick. It’s literally down the street from the SU - we’d just have to walk down a hill and then we’d be home.” He complains.

“Kristen, that flat had a rat problem. I saw one scurrying behind the oven.”

“Yeah, and we live with Tomas Meijer now, so what’s the difference?” He faces you, walks backwards, grin plastered on his face.

“That was mean.” You feign annoyance. You sound like a schoolteacher. 

“It’s just how we are, you know. The love hate relationship. Like night and day or some shit. I’d kill for that boy but like, he’s still a rat. He’s the same to me - did he tell you he called me a malnourished ferret once in first year? In English and Dutch. Don’t even remember what it is in Dutch but he really came at me with two knives like that.” 

Kristen and Junie don’t really know each other well - Junie is Tomas’ friend from class and Kristen and Tomas met in dorms, and a series of shitty housemates in second year brought them all together. It’s funny because I really worried Junie would end up with no clear place in the group and more like a third wheel to Kristen and Tomas but as I started writing I realised that her and Kristen are gonna become besties like. Instantaneously. Love this for them <3

5: Kristen

Essentially mirrors the last chapter. Him and Junie arrive home and have a heart to heart in the living room about gender <3 I love this for them <3 

6: Tomas

Tomas goes home with Damiano and they hook up, which is very out of character for Tomas so it’s like his I Am So Random. I Can’t Believe I Just Did That moment. Damiano is a really sweet dude though it’s all good, but he’s here to stay and I can just tell it’s gonna get messy :/ I actually really love how this chapter came out but whilst I have no problem with reading or writing non-explicit sex scenes I’m also like a would rather die than put that on tumblr dot com oops 

7: Kristen

we’ve skipped a week ahead to the day before semester starts, and the next three chapters are basically like a character study of where each of them are mentally. It’s not the best :/ This is also the point where Day 1 Of Camp me had literally no idea what I was doing. LCOMS is different from the way I pants Revelations, Revelations because with the latter I find it much easier to brainstorm scenes in my head but with this one, it really is a surprise until I open the doc. It’s created some really interesting moments though. 

Kristen visits an amateur photographer friend named Kasia to model for her. I struggled to find anything that included info I’m fine with sharing, but I learnt a LOT about Kristen and his mental state, which was surprising since he’s lived in my head rent free for 8 years now. It’s messy <3 The summary: he sees himself as a mannequin, and he decides that he likes it that way, but he also doesn’t know who’s moving his joints into poses. Bestie???

8: Junie

Junie unpacks her room a week after moving in. Autistic queen <3 This is one of the unfinished chapters, and I have zero motivation to finish it because there’s a scene missing and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. The gist of it though is she FaceTimes a friend from secondary school that definitely was her gay awakening that she only realised was her gay awakening in the last year. Messy <3 

9: Tomas

One of my favourite chapters. It’s split into two halves, a light-hearted moment of all three housemates at a superstore because <3 grocery store scenes my beloved <3 and then Tomas’ Everything Is Bad exploration at the end. There’s a moment in the first half where Tomas and Kristen have a heart to heart in the candle aisle, and Tomas asks Kristen where he thinks they’ll be in their thirties. I winged this in a sprint and I’m obsessed with it, it’s all about the ~dynamic~

“Well, he has student debt for one. But that’s not on him. That’s on the Tories. But I like to think they’ll be out of power by then. Boris might even be dead, if we’re lucky. But again, not on me.” He’s quiet again. You watch him think. “He’d be a music teacher probably, or an English teacher. But like, a cool one. He doesn’t teach secondary school because he doesn’t hate himself. Maybe a Sixth Form, or even better a Uni. His students would love him because he’d be able to take a joke and also like, not hound on them for having mental illnesses or life struggles?” Neither of you look at the aisles anymore, just circle the home section of Big Tesco. “He’d also do a lot of charity work. He has a foundation-charity-thing for queer and autistic kids to get accessible music lessons, because creative therapy is like, the best thing - besides Prozac but I digress - and it’d be better than the old white men from CAMHs who act like you don’t exist by your eighteenth birthday. And he’d have a cool little flat in Sheffield where the landlord lets him paint the walls so every room is a different colour. Turquoise kitchen. Magenta Living room. Lavender bedroom. Mint bathroom.” He looks at you like he forgot you were there. “You really let me ramble like that in the middle of Big Tesco, huh? That felt like a fucking therapy moment.” He laughs a little, like he’s nervous.

“Nah, it was a good answer. Maybe if Tomas-in-his-thirties doesn’t move back to the Netherlands, he’ll rent the apartment next to Kristen-in-his-thirties.” 

Kristen pouts. “Aw, you don’t wanna be my roomie anymore?” 

“No, you called me an animal for eating pineapple on pizza.” 

“Deserved. And you called me a malnourished ferret.”

You smile. “You’re not gonna let that down, are you?”

He smiles. “Of course not.”

Kristen tells Tomas he knows Something Happened to him over summer, and gets him to promise to tell him when he’s ready. The second half of the chapter takes place back at the house. Tomas is grieving, and it’s starting to creep into all elements of his thought. In this one specifically, he’s reminded of his top surgery and his memories in the hospital for that starts to blend with his memory of being in the hospital to grieve. Tomas is interesting as trans rep because like, he is trans rep curated for me specifically <3 Tomas was a huge comfort character for me when I was younger and when I realised I was trans, I looked at him and was like oh. He had a very smooth coming out and transitioning process (bc mine is the opposite and I need to project :) ), but right now he views his transness as like, a chapter of his life that was important but is now closed, so he doesn’t think about it a lot anymore, but the combo of grief and its mental impacts causes him to think about it more and he realises he has a very unhealthy internal relationship with his transness. Whilst the big idea at the start of Tomas’ arc is to show trans peace, I really wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the grieving process that comes with being trans. Literally the moment that made me realise “oh god, this is real and I can’t ignore it” was googling “im scared i might be trans” and realising how normal those tangled feelings are. Tomas’ experience of it is only fleeting, but I wanted to show that it’s normal. That being said, there’s no transphobia in this story. It is ultimately a Trans Peace story but also a trans story that, for me at least, is realistic. And the thoughts don’t last long, because his mind circles back to the grieving process. 

(CW: graphic surgery and hospital imagery, vomit mention, death)

[image description: a darkened picture of an empty hospital room. The only light comes in through the window through thin white curtains. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “ Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy? “ /end id]

Picture this: The hospital room. Clinical lights like exit wounds in the ceiling. Everything hurts. Haven’t slept properly in weeks. Can barely eat without it coiling and tangling in your stomach only for nothing to come up when you heave over the toilet. Messy hair, sunken eye bags. Dull eyes. The hospital room. The hospital halls. The hospital waiting room. The hospital car park. The drive to the hospital. The sleepless night before the hospital visit. The locked in the armchair next to the phone waiting for the hospital to call. The silence shrills harsher than the phone’s ring. But ask yourself this: who’s in the bed? You or him? The memories are different but the same. Oil and water. Shouldn’t be mixed. But it’s hard not to. Picture the two of you on the operating table and on the metal slab. Too far from reality to feel skin slice. Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy?

There’s a lot of paragraphs in the story that start with Picture This:. I have no idea what it means, it just reads cool lmao

10: Junie

we skip around 3 weeks now to see how the kids are dealing with the start of semester and well. They’re managing! Junie actually has a good chapter here, because she experiences Baby’s First Queer Class Crush 

[image description: a purple sunset with a large pink cloud. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads  you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you “ /end id]

You listen, touch type your notes without properly processing the words yet, but instead of studying the PowerPoint, you study her: how she tucks a strand of black hair - free from her messy bun - behind her ear. The three studs in her earlobe, three little gold stars. The way her eyebrows furrow when she’s confused, and the way her face relaxes when she figures it out. How she touch types like you, how her two brass bracelets  jangle and how you’re the only one that hears it. She minimises Word briefly, and you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you. Lavender polo shirt, lavender perfume. She doesn’t wear make-up, but a tiny black heart sits under left eye.

Junie’s dreams of a photographer girlfriend are quickly shattered when she admits the photo’s from Pinterest, but otherwise this is so <3 the sapphic crisis of it all.

You walk out together, and she tells you she only got into Sheffield that weekend, and it was a nightmare to explain to the tutors why. “It’s like, they forget we have lives sometimes. Lives we can’t control.” She shakes her head. “It’s okay now though, I’m here now.” 

You almost trip on the stairs up to the main floor, and her hand is warm against your wrist. Your cheeks redden, but she just asks if you’re okay, smiles when you are. Tells you she’s late for a seminar, but it was lovely to meet you. Thanks again for the lecture notes. Calls you a lifesaver. Fades into the between-classes rush. You’re glad she’s here now.

again she is so <3 i get it babes i get it <3 

In other news, at the end of the chapter Kristen drops the most relatable line of the entire fucking book:

“You know how like, when it rains, all the worms come out and do a funky little dance? Yeah so basically: the rain is LIT3001 right. And the worms are all of my mental illnesses.”

11: Tomas

Tomas turns 21 on October 13th so naturally like anyone in his early 20s he has multiple crisis’ about it. I still haven’t figured this chapter ~out yet but it sure exists! It just sucks the same way it sucks to be a young adult in the late 2010s. But here’s Kristen being the most relatable character in the book again and getting bullied for it :/

(CW: alcohol)

"I still can't believe you both do a science. Like, it actually baffles me - I could not be more further from that." Kristen refills his glass, measures the vodka level with his index. "Just a babe and his silly little BA against the world." 

"You know if you wanna be a BA babe you have to actually, like, graduate."

12: Kristen

Kristen is personally like I will pretend my degree does not exist and honestly? I get it King. He visits his Dad, since he only lives 30 minutes away, but most of the chapter is him thinking about Tomas and their messy friendship and the fact that Tomas is kinda ghosting him despite literally living together :/ Anyway here’s Kristen’s cat :)

Mar snoozes on your pillow, half curled like a croissant. Orange fluff against grey sheets, and you’re not mad at the fur debris she’ll inevitably leave. Her head pops up when you sit next to her, “you forget about me yet?”. You scratch her head and it’s like you’re 12 again and you don’t have to worry about rent or degrees or masters applications or careers or groceries or housemates and you haze through Sundays snoozing in bed with your new kitten. Technically she was a birthday present, but dad couldn’t wait an extra month to adopt her. Said he saw it in her eyes at the shelter, that she belonged here. You named her Marmalade because you were a dumbass eleven year old and also thought marmalade was the shit back then. She stretches her legs and yawns. Plops her head back down, back to sleep. “Yeah, me too.”

13: Tomas

The next three chapters centre around each character’s Halloween, because <3 Halloween my beloved <3. Tomas’ starts off with him and Kristen being ~homoerotic and him being a ~disaster about it. 

w[image description: a photo of a blue planet - Neptune - against a black background. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air.” /end id]

When you sit in front of him, your knees press together. When he tilts your head up, thumb on chin, nail grazing the curve of your lip, his hand is ice on your skin. He studies your face, you close your eyes. When he pulls back, you swear you still feel his thumbprint on your skin. You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air. He holds your head in place, hand sprawls over you cheek like veins. Brushes colour into your eye socket. Underneath the radiator, your phone buzzes twice. Don’t say anything. Ignore your heartbeat.

(before this Tomas threw his phone at the radiator because someone texted him :) yeah okay mood :) )

this story is really about the ~gay disasters and also the ~dialogue 

You flop onto your bed, arms crossed over your face. “I dunno. I might just print off all the emails Uni's sent me about my dissertation. Staple them to a jacket and tell people I'm going as mental illness." 

"Tomas, if you want to go as mental illness then you don't need a costume at all."

Unfortunately the rest of the chapter is not as fun because plot had to happen but this first scene was :)

14: Junie

Junie is not a fan of Halloween so she gives up halfway through the night and invites the girl she met in her lecture over to bake cookies at 1am instead. Fellas is this gay?

(CW: alcohol)

The girl in the kitchen brought cookie cutters in pink Tupperware. She explains she’s had them since she was eight, but she hasn’t had a chance to use them this Autumn. She has seven: cat, butterfly, crescent moon, heart, three stars matryoshka’d together. “I have more, these are just my go to ones. I’m a bit of a collector.” She lines them up on the counter, you trace the outline of the cat. She says she didn’t want to bring too many, but she likes having the options with no plan, the potential. You want to tell her that, after you invited her over, you spritzed the counters with lavender surface cleaner twice and tucked the discarded vodka and raspberry liqueur bottles in the cabinet you can barely reach. You piled unfolded laundry into your closet and hid drooping plants behind your closed curtains when you had zero intention of her inviting her to your room. You want to ask her why she said yes, why she replied in two minutes at one in the morning, and you want to ask her why people feel the need to cookie cutter themselves into a false potential. She asks if you want to bake with coconut or chocolate chip.  

she is actually such a disaster around girls i love her so much

The girl in your kitchen clears up glass that isn’t hers. You drop the measuring jug and it fireworks against tile. No shards lodge in your skin. Whilst she cleans, insists that it’s okay, you brew peppermint tea because you insist it’s the least you can do. The girl tells you a story about how she did the exact same thing, when she was nine, and her mother shrieked so loud the neighbours banged at the door a minute later. She laughs, muted. You apologise again. She insists it’s okay again. Rain hardens against the window, looks like TV static. You breathe in the peppermint steam.

The biggest thing I’ve learnt since drafting is that, at it’s core, this is a love story. And that makes me so excited because so many people, especially in mainstream media, still think that autistic people are incapable of love - or even worse, undeserving. 

15: Kristen

Kristen’s favourite holiday is Halloween so naturally on his special day I had to make him go through it :) I can’t share a lot of this, but it feels right to end this beast of an update on this beast of an excerpt because it came to me out of absolutely nowhere and it is one of my favourite passages I’ve ever written OOPS

(CW: death, parental death)

[image description: a cluster of stars against a dark blue, almost black sky. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.“ /end id]

You’ve mapped Sheffield’s streets since 13 so you know you’re walking the wrong way. This isn’t the way to Crookes. This isn’t the way out the city centre. You should order an Uber. You keep walking. You stop at a crossing. There’s no cars. You don’t cross. The traffic light flashes red and bleeds on your face. The stars are out tonight, and now it’s 2004 and you’re in the lounge with Lion King in the VHS. You’re off sick and your neighbour - Mel, recently retired, recently widowed - nurses a glass of brandy in your dad’s armchair because you don’t know it yet, but he can’t afford to miss work. You’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug when Simba and Mufasa sprawl in the grass and Mufasa tells Simba that all the stars are the Kings of the past and they are watching over him. You ask recently retired, recently widowed Mel if that’s true; her smile is happy but her eyes are sad and she says “yes, and not just Kings. Nobody leaves Earth, they just move to the stars.” 

Ten minutes later, Mufasa is flung off a gorge’s edge; you haven’t studied storytelling yet, but you understand those two moments are connected. And when you relay this to dad over ready made pasta that evening, you ask him if people really live in the stars: Sometimes, when they can’t live here anymore. Then you ask if they can come back from the stars: No, but people remember them. They’ll tell stories about them, so people don’t forget. Then you ask if memories and stories are like stars: A little. Then you ask why they can’t live here anymore: It’s hard to explain, Kris.

After dinner, he lets you play on the plastic slide in the garden as he scrubs the dishes. You climb to the top and try to see faces in the stars, but it’s too cloudy. And after that but before bedtime, you’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug again, and Lion King is in the VHS again, and as Simba and Nala are bathed by their mothers again, your five year old mind connects what’s different about you. You go to ask dad about it, but he’s asleep in his armchair. It’s 2018, you’re stood on a phantom street in Sheffield. You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.

And I usually don’t do this, but I think the playlist for this wip is absolutely fucking elite, so here’s a handful of the songs that I think encapsulate the story the best:

The Wombats – Greek Tragedy

Duncan Laurence – Arcade

FKA Twigs – Two Weeks

Peach Pit – Alrighty Aphrodite

Khalid – Saturday Nights

Alfie Templeman – Stop Thinking (About Me)

Rina Sawayama – 10-20-40

If you read this far, then I love you and we shall have a platonic wedding this summer. But I cannot express how excited I am about this story and to see where it goes!

#atlastracking #LCOMS #writing update #amwriting #seriously though i have had the best week but also my brain? a fried egg #sfoidhfsdf even before the cut this post is long i hate it here #long post

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me - Chapter 5

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 12K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Canon typical violence, canon divergence, gore, murder, mention of past child death, mention of major character death (OC), Daryl and Aaron bonding time, Daryl and y/n bonding time, major character death

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Okay, this is probably my least favourite chapter, but I can’t wait to write the next chapters. Chapter 6 and 7 are gonna be painful y’all so good luck. Enjoy!

<i>Daryl was quiet, Beth noticed. He was always quiet, but not like this. He hadn't been like this since after he'd lost his girl. Not that anyone knew that except for his asshole older brother. Beth was worried, about everyone, but right now, she was worried for Daryl most of all. Any time he <b>did</b> open his mouth, something sarcastic, cold or cynical came out. It wasn't like him. Maybe in the early days, but definitely not now. He couldn't stop thinking about everyone they'd lost. Not just at the prison, everyone they'd lost along the way. Even who he'd lost before. He didn't have much to lose before, but the people he had, were everything. She was everything. But she was gone. Probably dead. He was just holding out hope on another pipe dream. But even despite that, he couldn't bring himself to remove his ring. The cool metal almost burnt his skin whenever he thought about her, or anyone else he'd lost. Like a reminder of his failure. Since the prison had fallen, every day with Beth felt like a blur.

He shouldn't dwell on it, he knew that, but he couldn't help but wonder how many people died. How many people got out. If anyone other than him and Beth did. Part of him thought that it didn't matter.  Hershel was dead because he didn't kill the Governor when he had the chance. He owed it to the vet to protect his daughter. And somehow, that had ended up with them in some old shed, something similar to what he and Merle would have lived in once upon a time, in the middle of the woods. Somehow, he'd ended up playing a dumb game, like some damn teenagers. At least Beth wasn't too far off. He took a sip of the moonshine as she started explaining, clearly slightly tipsy from her first-ever drink.

"So first, I say something I've never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch. You really don't know this game?" Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, not deterred by his so-called "intimidating" stare. Daryl moved the hand that was in front of his face, shifting his position slightly.

"I never needed a game to get lit before."

"Wait, are we startin'?" She asked, and while her face stayed the same, Daryl picked up on the teasing lilt in her voice, eyes shining slightly.

"How do you know this game?" He questioned, using his pinky to point at her

"My friends played. I watched," She shifted slightly before lightly shaking her head "Okay, I'll start. I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."

Daryl reached forward to the glass of water and lifted it to his mouth, looking just as unamused as before "Ain't much of a game."

"That was a warm-up. Now you go," Beth insisted but Daryl just stared back at her for a second, shrugging.

"I don't know."

"Just say the first thing that pops into your head," She shot back with a small smile. Plenty of things popped into his head, but they were too personal to share with Beth. Too much about his girl. He didn't know if he was ready to tell her yet. Daryl knew Beth wouldn't care, not really, but just thinking about her made his brain and chest hurt. An aching he couldn't get rid of.

"I've never been out of Georgia," Was the answer he settled on. He was gonna leave Georgia, right after his hunting trip. Leave early, fly to South Carolina and surprise (Y/N) and her ma. But it never happened. Dead made sure of that. Beth's eyebrows rose slightly. He was an outdoorsy guy, a hunter. She thought he'd have been all over.

"Really? Okay, good one. I've never... been drunk and did somethin' I regretted," She stated after taking a sip of her drink. Beth knew she was starting to push the line slightly. Knew his fuse was slightly shorter after the prison. But he didn't bat an eye, just reached forward and had a drink.

"I've done a lot of things," He replied, keeping his gaze on the table. Yeah, like leave his girl behind. Didn't even go looking. What kind of husband didn't even try to find his wife when the world ended? "I never been on vacation."

"What about campin'?" Beth questioned but Daryl shook his head immediately.

"No, that was just something I had to learn to hunt," Because, his family were shitty people, and didn't even think to go looking when he went missing as a kid. Not that he added that.

"Your dad teach you?" She asked, and she knew that the line was getting toed here. She'd never asked about his dad, but from interactions she'd overheard with Daryl and Rick, sometimes Carol or even Carl, their relationship hadn't been pretty. Daryl released a hum of agreement.

"Alright... never have I ever been in love," Beth said, and she saw Daryl's eyes flicker down to the ring she still wore from when she was still with Jimmy. She didn't really expect much, but it was the only thing that came to mind.  His eyebrows furrowed slightly, bristling at the implication behind her words, and he found himself spinning his own ring with his thumb, absentmindedly.

"The hell ya implyin'" He snapped, eyes narrowing slightly, and Beth looked slightly alarmed by how defensive he got and how quickly. She'd seen his explosive temper before but she'd never been at the brunt of it. But Daryl didn't back down, even as she showed him her scared eyes. The damn girl had no right prying. He'd played her stupid ass game, given her some stupid ass answers. But then, he swore he saw (Y/N) in the corner, giving him that disapproving look that made him swallow any anger he'd had right up, and he looked to the floor, taking a second to breathe.

"Ya ain't ever been in love?" It was clear Daryl was asking about Jimmy and Zach. His brain wandered to Zach, asking him every day without fail about what he did before the apocalypse; getting bitten on the way out of that store; getting crushed by the helicopter. Having to deliver the news to beth, who didn't even react.

"I loved Jimmy sure, but I wasn't in love with him. Zach neither. Meant a lot to me, both of 'em but, never loved 'em like that. I only married Jimmy because I thought we were the last ones left," Beth explained, and to anyone else, it would have sounded cold. But Daryl understood. This world did weird shit to your brain, and it didn't surprise him that she'd latched to Zach and Jimmy. While he was thinking, Beth watched his expression. She noticed the look of despair that crossed his face quickly, and how it hardened a second after. And finally, after over a year of them being in the group together, she saw his ring, as he brought his arm to rest on his knee so his other hand could twirl it. He hadn't even noticed he'd done it. He bit his lip, deep in thought, before he looked up and saw Beth's expectant eyes.

"Did you have to kill her?" If that didn't get under his skin he didn't know what would. No disapproving look from his not-there wife could stop the rage bubbling in his chest. It boiled up his neck, to his face and he just knew he'd gone slightly red. Almost immediately, he saw regret on Beth's as he stood up.

"I'm going to take a piss," Daryl snarled, picking up one of the empty jars on the table and smashing it as he made his way over to the corner of the room. He heard Beth's breath hitch in a suppressed gasp of surprise.

"You have to be quiet!" Beth hissed, and that only pissed him off more. He knew there were walkers outside, knew he was being stupid, but she'd started prying. Drunk or not, she'd gone too far and he'd had enough.

"Can't hear ya! 'M taking a piss!" He yelled back, to which Beth shot back some response about being quiet, as he unzipped and started doing his business "What, are ya ma chaperone now?"

Daryl zipped himself back up but didn't bother to do his belt up, and it clanked against his button. He knew this would be a good place to drop it since she had gone silent, but she'd taken a dig at him. One way too personal. One that involved <b>his</b> family. One she had no business in. So he whirled around, voice much louder than it should have been.

"Oh, wait. It's my turn, right? I've never-never eaten frozen yoghurt. Never had a pet pony. Never got nothin' from Santa Claus," He slammed his hand against the cluttered table he stood next to, as the emotions that had built up over the past few days finally poured out. Beth looked scared, but there was anger dwelling behind her eyes too "Never relied on anyone for protection before. Hell, I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anything."

Daryl had started pacing, and he narrowed in on the blonde, tone sharp and cold. He knew he was lying at that point. True, he'd never relied on anyone for protection. But he'd relied on his girl for so much that he didn't even know where that list started or ended. She just swam in his head, and she could see those disapproving eyes again. Normally they were directed at Merle, but now they were directed to him, real or not, it stung being at the end of her contempt. And that only pushed him over the edge. Beth tried to stop him with a call of his name, but now he'd begun there was little that would stop him.  

"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public like everythin' was fun. Like everything was a big game. Never got to say goodbye to ma wife. Never got to know if she was alive, dead, turned, murdered. I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention," Beth didn't flinch when he brought up her failed suicide attempt. But when he mentioned (Y/N), that sad look was there again, and the anger in her eyes faded.

Daryl hadn't meant to say it, but he was so furious, so sad, so frustrated, so mad at the world, that it had slipped out, in a rare moment of vulnerability. He sprung the walls back up as soon as he'd let them down.

A crashing at the door and the growling of walkers made his head snap to the door, so fast he swore it should have snapped. And he couldn't stop. The seething, burning feeling was eating him up.

"Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call his buddies," He tripped over the pans and pots and various other shit on the floor, making way too much noise. If he wasn't so angry, he would be cursing himself out now. He was sure he'd do that later.

"Daryl, just shut up," Beth begged through gritted teeth, but Daryl just turned around and pointing, a sharp smile playing on his lips. If Merle were here, he'd tell him he looked just like their Daddy. And he did, as much as he hated it. If his girl were here, she would be screaming at him. by now. She would have stopped him by now. But they were both gone. Just like everyone else.

"Hey, you never shot a crossbow before? I'm gonna teach you right now. Come on," Before he'd fully processed what he was doing, Daryl had grabbed Beth's arm, dragging her to the door and kicking it open. "It's gonna be fun."

"We should stay inside! Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!" She protested, screaming out as she tried to fight out of her grip but he wouldn't let her go.

"Dumbass. Come here, dumbass," Daryl whistled and the walker stumbled over, before he put a bolt in its shoulder, pinning it to the tree behind it. "You wanna shoot?"

"Daryl, I don't know how!" She exclaimed, fighting as Daryl pulled her in front of him, holding her in place with one hand as he got ready to shoot with the other.

"Oh, it's easier. Right corner," A bolt landed in the walker's leg and Beth finally broke free, turning around to face the redneck as he stepped away slightly, so he could pull the string back into place.

"C'mon it's fun," He was being fueled by unbridled rage and adrenaline now. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, that sounded suspiciously like Rick told him he'd regret this later but he pushed it away. Instead, he pulled Beth back into the previous position and shot the walker right where it's dead, rotting heart was.

"Kill it!"  Daryl let go again as he stormed ahead to the walker.

"Come here, Greene. Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice," Beth had decided that was enough, and with an annoyed huff, she sped ahead of Daryl to plant her knife into the walker's forehead "What the hell you do that for? We was having fun."

"No! You were being a jackass! If someone found your wife-" She growled back, and Daryl's glare burned into her but it didn't deter her, even as he got right into her face.

"Don't. That ain't remotely the same," Daryl shot back, rage burning through every vein, every organ, every muscle. But Beth knew she'd gotten to him, even if it was just a little bit.

"Killin' them ain't supposed to be fun!" She said, her own eyebrows coming into a glare and Daryl stepped even closer.

"What do ya want from me, girl?"

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anythin'! Like nothin', we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anythin' to you. It's bullshit!" Beth finally yelled back, frustration making tears build behind her eyes but that only seemed to rile Daryl up more, even if it had been toned down. Didn't give a shit? She really thought he didn't care? He'd damn near died for his people. He'd killed for his people and she thought he didn't give a shit?

"Is that what you think? Huh?" The only thing he could think as he heard himself were the words he'd said to his brother years ago, that was coming back to bite him in the ass. You really are our Daddy's son.

"That's what I know," Her words were instant, and Daryl could tell from her tone that they'd been building up for a while. But his mouth moved before his brain could fully process the thought.

"You don't know nothin'," He hissed, looking away for a second, as his voice wavered slightly.

"I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne. I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I've survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them. But I made it and you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid," Hell, if that didn't make him stop. His chest heaved as she spoke, his body taking a moment to recover from the anger that had made him shake. Been a while since he'd been that pissed off. But those final words, made his eyes narrow again, just as they'd softened.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'," Daryl stated, leaning in again. Beth had a look in her eye, telling him she didn't believe him. And she was right. He was scared every damn day. Every single damn time he thinks he's the most scared he'll ever be, some new herd, some new asshole, some new loss takes its place.

"I remember. When that little girl came out of the barn after my mom. You were like me," Daryl couldn't meet her eyes. He had been like her once. When he left for a hunting trip he never came back from. Then, he got stuck with his piece of shit older brother and became that asshole again. Then his brother was gone, and he had a new family. He wasn't who he had been with (Y/N), didn't know if he ever would be like that again, but it had been a start. Until the governor took that from him too "And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close."

Every time someone got close, they died. Or put at great risk, or went missing, or got bit.

"Too close, huh? Ya know all about that. Ya lost two boyfriends, ya can't even shed a tear. Yer whole family's gone, all ya can do is just go out lookin' for hooch like some dumb college bitch," It was a low blow, but he was so drunk, so angry, he was struggling to get his words out like they were getting stuck in his throat.

"And your wife is gone and you don't say shit! Your brother died and you closed off! At least I talk about the ones I've lost instead of pretendin' like nothin' happened or like they didn't exist!" She snapped back, and the second the words left her mouth, she looked like she wanted to take them right back. Daryl stopped right there, frozen like a deer in headlights before turning around. Beth tried to reach for him but he shrugged out of her touch.

"Y'ain't got the right," He huffed out, the last of his anger dissipating, and he felt that void opening up again. The one that haunted him anytime he thought about his wife for too long. His shoulders deflated, and his gaze fixed on the back of the shed they'd found. Beth was hovering behind him, he could feel it. "The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me."

"Daryl-" Beth tried again, sympathy lacing her voice but he just shook her off once more. She watched as his shoulders tensed, and she prepared for him to rip into her again but instead, they started shaking lightly. Everything was crashing down on him all at once and he couldn't shake the thought of his girl alone, trying to survive on her own. Or his girl, eyes milky white and lifeless, feet dragging and body acting like dead weight as her pale, rotting skin peeled off.

"And ma girl? Maybe I could've done somethin'. Maybe I could've helped her," His voice cracked, the emotions finally crashing over him in a wave, and this time he didn't stop Beth as she wrapped her arms around his middle, head pressed against his back. He didn't stop the tears or the sobs that escaped him.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking," Beth's voice broke the peaceful silence that had fallen between them. Crickets and the wind brustling the trees were the only sounds as Daryl looked over to her, sat on the porch in the pale moonlight.

"Ya feel sick?" He asked, twirling his knife on the wooden panels beside him, glancing over dark eyelashes.

"Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time. That's bad," She responded. Her hands were playing with the loose threads on her jeans, and she had this happy look in her eye. Too happy, but he didn't say anything. Not this time.

"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk," Daryl felt that stab of guilt again, as he thought back to the argument earlier. The one he could've dropped, but instead he blew it out of proportion and turned into Merle. Into his daddy.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. Some people can be real jerks when they drink," Beth gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised slightly, but there was a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, 'm a dick when 'm drunk," He stabbed his knife into the wood and he let out a small huff before reluctantly opening his mouth again "Merle had these biker friends. Real buff, stern assholes. Didn't give a shit 'bout nobody but themselves. One day, he dragged me along with 'em to this back alley bar. Real dodgy place. Was barely 10 and we were all wasted. Merle was high. There was this girl with her friend and the guys wouldn't stop runnin' their mouths. Especially Merle. Never knew when to quit. Turns out, girl had heard everythin' they'd been sayin' 'bout her and her friend. She comes stormin' over, face red, lookin' pissed as all hell and starts gettin' in this guys face. Merle decides it's a good idea to grab her ass, and she goes for him, punches him right in the eye. Gave him one hell of a shiner."

Beth let out a small giggle as she took a sip of her moonshine and Daryl's lips quirked up slightly. His fingers worked to spin his ring around again and again and she watched it with a glimmer of shock that still hadn't faded away.

"I tried gettin' between and she shoved me away. But one of Merle's buddies, he don't like that. So, he pulls out his gun and raises it over ma shoulder to her face, right here," He points to the gap between his eyebrows, watching as Beth's own eyebrows rose "And this bar goes dead silent. C'aint hear a damn thang, but she just glares back. His buddy starts threatenin' her, sayin' how he's gonna do all these things to her and she don't say anythin'. Just looks back at him. All that because she stood up for herself," Daryl couldn't help but smile at the memory, despite how much it had freaked him out at the time. Only time he didn't get pissed at someone for hitting his brother. Fool deserve it.

"How'd she get out?" Beth asked, leaning forward slightly like she was on the edge of her seat.

"Managed to get between 'em. Guy punched me in the gut. I puked. They all started laughin' and started patting her on the back. 'Balls of steel', Merle said to her. She thanked me for gettin' between them and asked how I was. Walked her and her friend back to her car. And I don't know if she was tipsy or what, but she asked ma name. Asked if we could have a new introduction 'nother day or somethin. You want to know what I was before all this? I was just drifting around with Merle... doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother. Got better when I met her. (Y/N) made us better," Daryl's eyes flittered down to his ring this time, looking at the grime and dirt that accumulated and pulled it off to wipe it on his shirt.

"You miss him, don't you? I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around. I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoyin' and overprotective. And my dad. I thought- I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby. And he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics. And he'd get really old. And it'd happen, but it'd be quiet. It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by people he loved. That's how unbelievably stupid I am," Tears had formed in Beth's eyes, but she laughed through them. But she couldn't shake that image of her Dad, the governor stood behind him.

"That's how it was supposed to be," He grumbled. Beth was naive, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wasn't talking just about her dad. He was talking about the life he had with his wife, a life he could have had. The life he deserved to have. Subconsciously, she couldn't help but be slightly jealous that she never had something like that.

"I wish I could just... change," Beth responded after a pause, and Daryl's eyebrow raised, slightly confused.

"Ya did."

"Not enough. Not like you. It's like you were made for how things are now. Sounds like ya girl was too."

He didn't say anything, biting his cheek lightly as he slid his ring back on. It was his comfort, she was his comfort. Maybe she was still out there. Maybe.

Maybe she was dead in a ditch. </i>

It still felt like a dream. He was still sure that if he gave himself a hard pinch she'd disappear right from his grasp. Everyone had dispersed thanks to Aaron and Carol's shepherding, but Daryl didn't miss the way (Y/N) watched after Carl and Judith, like she was scared something would happen. She didn't let go of him, not for another few minutes, that felt like seconds to him, and he would never complain. It didn't feel real.

There would be questions later, enough to bombard them back into hiding. He didn't care. Nothing mattered. She was here.

Eventually, Daryl managed to clear his head enough to pull her into the house his family had now evacuated out of. It felt alien, holding her again. Seeing her. Actually seeing her, not imagining her in some drunk or fear-induced frenzy. They were huddled together, in the corner Daryl had taken the night before. He couldn't let go, not now. There was something different about her. She'd changed. The apocalypse did that to you, he supposed but, this was different. There was guilt like she was hiding something from him. She'd done something, and he wanted to find out what it was.

"How the hell'd ya get here?" He asked, voice low and a grin rose on her face, which made his eyebrows furrow in confusion "What?"

"Ain't nothing. Just didn't think I'd hear your voice again," (Y/N) responded, her grin widening when he took her hand and started playing with her ring. "I was with mom when it started. Started travelling down to Georgia to find you and Merle. Met some people along the way."

She suddenly went quiet, her smile falling, and Daryl knew that look. Seen it on everyone's faces after camp; saw it on Carol, Beth, Maggie and Hershel's faces after the barn, Glenn and Maggie after the governor, Beth's after the prison; Rick, Carl and Michonne's the night with the claimers; everyone's after Terminus; Sasha and Gabriel after Bob and Tyreese. His, Maggie's and Glenn's after Beth.

"What happened?" If anyone else had walked in, they'd probably have never believed it was his voice. He didn't believe it. Merle would be giving him hell for it. Her eyes darted to his, and her grip on his hand tightened.

"There were this married couple, Andrew and Oliver, and their kid, Anna. Real sweet, curious. Never wanted to leave me and the other leader Kai alone. Some twins, Danica and Ben. Danica and Andrew were hotheads, reminded me of Merle, just less bigotted," They shared a chuckle at that. Daryl didn't need to say anything to her for her to know her brother-in-law was gone. She'd seen it on his face when she mentioned him earlier. After all this time, she could still read him like a book. "Kai was my best friend. Felt like a sibling. They were military, stopped me and mom from going into the city. We were gonna keep looking for you but Anna got sick. Really sick. For three weeks, we went out looking for medicine and she'd go through it in days."

Hell, he'd almost forgot about the disease that spread through the prison. Nearly killed Glenn. Awful as it seemed, it didn't that important anymore. Pretty much everyone that was sick died to the governor anyway. Didn't matter. Not really

"When she didn't get better, her dad's asked me to put her down. I was going to do it in the evening, in case she passed, but I decided to wait until morning. Died in her sleep. Turned quickly. We lost Andrew and Danica," Daryl squeezed her hand but she didn't respond. Her eyes were unfocused, but he saw the sadness flickering in them. The shame and guilt. That's why she was watching Carl and Judith earlier. "We were in the woods for a while. Me, mom, Andrew, Kai and Ben, lived that old Dixon lifestyle," She teased, in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. But he saw past it. She was holding something back to stop him from worrying.

"Then what?" She just shook her head, and Daryl pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin again. Not yet. He'd wait as long as she needed. They didn't need words for him to understand. (Y/N) let out a small sigh of contentment and Daryl resisted a smile. He'd lost hope in finding her. Thought he'd never get to hold her like this again. And before he knew it, he was telling her everything. But when he got to Terminus, she froze and pulled back.

"You were at Terminus?" (Y/N)'s voice was laced with concern and confusion, and it took Daryl half a second to connect the dots. His eyebrows rose into his hairline, which made (Y/N) laugh slightly."I was there for three days. Fuckers tried to kill me but I put up a fight. That freak Gareth locked me in a room so I didn't 'scare the newcomers'. An explosion and some walker's guts got me out."

"Ya gotta be shittin' me, right?" Daryl laughed, genuinely laughed, and he swore he'd never seen so much elation on his girl's face. "Carol set off that explosion, got us out."

(Y/N) leant her forehead on his shoulder, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. The whole time, he thought she was so far away, or that she was gone, or dead, or bitten but she was right fucking there at Terminus. If he'd paid more attention, maybe he could've found her. Fucking idiot.  

"Hey, where ya goin'?" Daryl asked, catching (Y/N)'s arm as she started to climb out of the sleeping bag they'd been sharing. It'd taken a while for Daryl to convince the group to let her stay with them. They didn't trust her, and he couldn't blame them, but he wasn't going to be separated from <i>any</i> of his family. Neither her nor them. Eventually, Rick had nodded, despite Sasha and Abraham (mostly - Rosita and Carl hadn't exactly been happy about it either).

"Aiden and Nicholas want to take Glenn, Tara and Noah on a dry run, I gotta go with them to make sure they don't do something dumb," (Y/N) replied, pulling on her jumper but Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Careful, (L/N), that's ma family yer talkin' 'bout," He shot back, sharper than he wanted. However, she was taking a dig at his family when she barely knew shit about them. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes, coming closer to press a kiss on his forehead.

"Not your family, dummy. Nicolas and Aiden. They both hate me because I called them careless. Among other things. And they are. They don't know anything about life out there. If these walls hadn't come up when they had, those boys would have died long ago. Almost everyone here would have," She replied. He watched her carefully, giving her a look that she couldn't recognise. He was still getting used to this new version of her. Trying to get to know her again.  She wasn't that different, not really, but she was slightly colder towards others and seemed to have a shorter fuse where unbreakable patience used to be. Well, unbreakable unless you were Merle. Some undying rage never left her eyes.  She was still her old self, but she'd changed. It made him wonder what she'd been through. What she wouldn't tell him the day before.

"Why'd ya stay if this place ain't secure?" Daryl asked, pulling her slightly closer. Then he saw it. That look flashed across her face. It was gone almost as soon as it came, but he'd caught it. Guilt was ripping through her, despite how much she hid it. Why was she guilty? What was she hiding?

"Why'd you?" (Y/N) responded quickly, and even with this new version of her, he still knew her well enough to know she was changing the topic. And she did too, as evident from her heavy sigh. "I had a promise to keep."

There was more to it than that, Daryl could see it so clearly it was practically slapping him in the face. But he knew pushing wouldn't get them anywhere.

"People here are weak. Carol and the kid think it too. Hell, I do.  Glad yer goin' with 'em," He gave her a quick kiss, running his thumb over her ring. "Keep an eye on 'em for me."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled back, and from the surprise on Deanna's face when she walked in to check on them, not that he'd cared enough to notice at first, it wasn't something that had happened often while she was here.

"And you keep yourself safe, ya hear?" Daryl demanded, and while it was firm, (Y/N) saw the glimmer of fear in his eye. Can't lose her again. The words went unspoken but she heard them. A hard squeeze of his hand and a kiss on the cheek, and she'd wandered out the door, Glenn, Tara and Noah trailing close behind.

Time seemed to drag out while they were gone. It'd been around an hour, and he knew it shouldn't be too much longer before they returned. It was only a dry run. He'd finally showered, if only for his girl's sake than anyone else's, and he couldn't stop pacing. Carol had tried to employ his help, but he shut her down. With no news on a job from Deanna, Daryl couldn't stop himself from getting lost in his thoughts and drowning in his worries. His girl had said that the boys were careless. What if that cost her? What if him asking her to protect his friend meant she did something stupid? What if she didn't come back? What if he lost her again? For good, this time?

His worries were cut in half when the creaking and scratching of the gate broke through the air and he immediately jogged from his place on the porch to the gates, seeing the group come back in. They all looked pissed, and none of them more than (Y/N). She was walking in front of Glenn almost protectively, and he just knew something had gone wrong.

"You three need new gigs, you're not ready for runs yet," Aiden snapped from behind, making the four turn on their heels. Daryl felt himself moving forward when Aiden got close to (Y/N) and started pointing "And I'm gonna talk to my mom about getting you a new job."

"Yeah, pretty sure you got that backwards," Glenn shot back and (Y/N) gave him a grateful look. They set off again but were pulled back by Aiden grabbing both her and Glenn's arms.

"Hey, we've got a way of doing things around here," Aiden tried, making a poor attempt of establishing his authority, which deflated when she scoffed.

"Yeah, ones you don't tell me about apparently," She grumbled. There it was. That short fuse. That undying rage. Daryl slowed to a stop as more people started to gather at the noise. She looked over to him, telling him with a glance that he might have to step in if it got too far.

"You tied up walkers," Glenn shot back, and that set Aiden off. Nicolas bounced between each foot awkwardly, like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"It killed our friend!"Aiden shouted "Look, I'm not having this conversation. You obey my orders out there."

"Not when they put our people in danger," (Y/N) stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Aiden, and Daryl smirked slightly. That was his girl.

"If that's the case, we're just as screwed as your last run crew," Glenn agreed, putting a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder to get her to back off. They shared a look, and she reluctantly took a step back. Glenn was trying to keep it peaceful, but he wasn't Aiden get away with this shit. Neither was (Y/N), except Daryl wasn't so sure about the peaceful part. Aiden shifted at Glenn's words, and Nicolas narrowed his eyes. Daryl took a step closer, shooting the latter man a warning glare.

"Say that again," Aiden stated, lightly shoving Glenn's chest. He brushed off the warning words of Noah and Tara, and both Glenn and Daryl could see that (Y/N) was barely holding her rage back. Glenn squeezed her shoulder lightly, clearly seeing it too. She was waiting for the right moment, but she was going to break any second. "C'mon tough guy."

Glenn just stared back at him, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, and the expression pissed Aiden off even more. (Y/N) had to bite back a laugh. "No one's impressed, man. Walk away."

Someone had clearly alerted Deanna to the situation because she came running out, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes slightly at the woman. It was pretty damn clear she didn't like her. However, her expression softened slightly, and some of her anger dissipated when she saw Enid join the newly formed crowd, with Carl not far behind her.

"Aiden, what's going on?" Deanna asked, running over. Daryl saw Rick slowly making his way over with Michonne, and they were both observing too. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut and it felt stifling.

"These two have got a problem with the way we do things. Why did you let these people in? Why didn't you kick her out?" Daryl's eyes furrowed, and his glare settled. This asshole was really trying to get them thrown out? After the shit he'd just heard?

"Because we actually know what we're doing out there," Glenn immediately answered and he barely had time to dodge as Aiden swung for him, while Deanna shouted his name. However, (Y/N) immediately shot into action. The fury she'd been suppressing exploded out all at once, and she didn't hesitate to land a punch ride to Aiden's nose. She'd hit him with enough force to cause his nose to bleed, and Daryl felt a twisted sense of pride in his stomach.

"(Y/N)!" Enid yelled, and (Y/N) looked over to her in panic, scared someone had lunged for her. But while she was distracted, Nicolas had managed to get a hit in on her side, making her fall backwards slightly. Her eyes darkened and she went to attack him, but two arms latched around her waist and yanked her away from the fight. At some point, Aaron had come running towards the commotion and had snuck up behind her. He was trying to talk to her, to calm her down but she only saw red.

However, while the people had been distracted with (Y/N), apparently well-acquainted with her outbursts, no one had thought to stop Daryl. The second, Aiden lunged for Glenn, he was running at them, anger boiling inside of him, but then Nicolas dared to lay a hand on his girl and he felt like that day in the woods with Beth. When he couldn't stop his anger. It just flowed through him, and soon Nicolas had been pinned to the floor with Daryl's arm to his neck. Rick sprinted to them, shouting at him, but Daryl had tuned him out, eyes focusing on the son of a bitch below him. He felt arms yanking him away and he growled something (he couldn't even remember what he was so damn pissed) to, who he assumed was, Rick. Aiden stood up and went to walk towards (Y/N), which made her struggle slightly in Aaron's hold, until Michonne stepped in front, pushing him back.

"Back the fuck up, asshole," (Y/n) shouted, pulling in Aaron's arms, and Michonne narrowed her eyes at Aiden.

"You want to end up on your ass again?"She warned, staring him down until he backed up. After another minute, Rick finally made Daryl let up and Rick pushed him away slightly just for good measure. He was practically vibrating with anger, but he backed away, picking up his crossbow before walking to his girl. Aaron let her go hesitantly, and Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist, both to ground himself and to prevent her from going anywhere. He could feel the heat radiating over, and how pissed off she still was as she and Aiden glared at each other. Deanna stared at her for a minute, a look filled with scorn that nearly set Daryl off again. Aiden had taken the shot first, she couldn't blame his girl for shit.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now and always as equals. Understood?"She shot a pointed look to her son, who looked away in shame as he wiped his nose, getting blood on the back of his hand. Daryl hid a smirk, despite the anger still stirring in his stomach. "Everyone turn in your weapons. Then you two come talk to me."

Deanna pulled Rick and Michonne to one side, and the pair watched for a second, as Glenn walked off with Maggie. Then, Daryl turned his girl to look at him, inspecting every inch of her to make sure she wasn't badly injured.

"Y'alrigh'?" Daryl questioned softly, placing one hand on her cheeks, which she leant into affectionately. It made his stomach do flips, and he was sure he was blushing but if he was, she didn't say anything. Made him feel like a damn teenager again. She placed her hand over his, touching his ring with a small reassuring smile.

"I'm all good, Dixon. Might have a bruise on my ribs, but I'll live," She replied and Daryl turned to look at Nicolas with a dark look. They were so caught up in themselves that they didn't notice Aaron watching them with a curious look. He was smiling softly. He hadn't been able to get much out of his friend when talking about her husband. She'd let a little slip when she, him and Eric got drunk during her first week, but she'd never told them his name, or anything deep. If she had, maybe he would've been able to reunite them sooner.

Everyone dispersed, with Aiden and Nicolas following Deanna back to her house. (Y/N) watched after them, glaring holes into the back of their heads.

"(Y/N, I know you're pissed off, but you have to quit the fighting. Deanna's going to kick you out if you aren't careful," Aaron warned, folding his arms over his chest, and Daryl's head snapped over furiously. However, (Y/N) turned to him with a face that told him she'd heard this a million times before.

"Fucker went for Glenn first. She just defended him," Daryl murmured and Aaron let out a deep sigh. Guess it wasn't just (Y/N) he had to watch out for now.

The next day, Daryl and (Y/N) had been moved into their own house, and while she was hesitant to leave Eric and Aaron, neither she nor Daryl could deny how nice it was to have their own privacy. It almost felt like life before the apocalypse. Well, besides the fact that this house was worth more than they ever could have afforded before the world went to shit. And they were missing a certain loud-mouthed idiot. Enid also technically lived there, but she was always in and out. One thing both he and his girl knew, was that he was suffocating in here. He hated not being out there. So when she suggested he go hunting, he was out of the door quicker than she could blink. He felt guilty leaving her behind, but she could manage her own, and she had her own jobs to do. Besides, Enid could keep her company. She'd be fine.

The bushes rustling made his crossbow shoot up. Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to pick out if it was a person, walker or animal, but he quickly realised it was a human and his guard went up tenfold.

"Come out! Now!"He snarled, placing his finger on the trigger as the person began to emerge. Aaron. Son a bitch scared the shit out of him. Not that he'd admit it. He lowered his crossbow with a huff upon seeing the recruiters alarmed face. "Ain't ya supposed to be in Alexandria with Eric?"

"(Y/N)'s watching over him. You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?" Daryl just grunted in response and Aaron studied him, as he checked the string of the crossbow. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He could see it in the way he acted with (Y/N) alone, and that wasn't even beginning on the rest of his family "Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn't seem to be an expert at that."

"There ain't much of a difference no more," Daryl snapped back. What was with this guy? Didn't he know when to stop prying? Wasn't none of his business. Aaron didn't miss the way he squinted at him, or how his shoulders squared defensively.

"That how you feel about your people? About (Y/N)?" Aaron questioned. Daryl tensed slightly before continuing forward into the woods.

"Why ya following me?" Daryl snapped. If it had been anyone else, he probably would've been shouting by now. But Aaron was (Y/N)'s friend. He could talk about her like that. He meant no ill will. Others don't get the right. They didn't know her. They just expected the worst because he was some redneck. Expected her to be the same.

She was so much more.

"You ride horses?"Aaron asked, trying to lighten the situation. He'd really hoped he could save that horse. The kids had been asking him for weeks. At least he wasn't suffering anymore.

"I ride bikes," Daryl responded shortly. Aaron was kind, and he could see how his girl was friends with him. Why she trusted him. They'd taken care of her. Seen that pretty clearly yesterday with Aiden and Nicolas and stopping her from killing them. But everything felt too much still. He wasn't used to being somewhere like this. Even before everything. Even with his girl starting to bring him to the right path. Everything was just overwhelming. He knew Aaron was trying to help, to get to know him,  but whether that was out of kindness or to stay on the good side of his girl, he still hadn't figured it out.

"I take it you don't mean 10-speeds," When Daryl didn't say anything, Aaron let out a small sigh. "I know you're feeling like an outsider. (Y/N) does too, even if she tries to deny it. It's not your fault, you know. Eric and I, we're still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We've heard our fair share of well-meaning, but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women. And you should hear how they talk about (Y/N) sometimes. People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain. They're scared of you and me for different reasons. They're less scared of me because they know me. It's less and less every day. So let them get to know you. You should go to Deanna's party tonight."

By that point, they'd both stopped. Daryl looked back at Aaron with disbelieving eyes. Like hell was he going to some dumb as shit party. People'd stare, whisper, ask questions. They did little else when he was around, normally.

" I got nothing to prove. I met a lot of bad people out here doing a lot of bad shit. They weren't afraid of nothin'," His eyes flashed back to Terminus. Glenn's terrified eyes. The rage in Rick's eyes. Carl's trembling in the storage container. His girl, who'd been so damn close that if he'd stopped for a second, he would have found her.

"Yeah, they were," Aaron replied, smiling at him slightly before walking past him.

"Yer goin'?" Daryl raised his eyebrows, and (Y/N) turned to smile at him. She didn't look herself. Actually no, she looked exactly like herself. But the old her. This wasn't the new, hardened, mildly terrifying new (Y/N). It felt alien. Almost wrong. But hell if she didn't look good, even if she was dressed up for a dumb ass party.

"I want to get to know your family. Besides, I need to prove a point to Deanna and her shithead sons. You sure you won't come?" She trailed over to him and admired him in the last rays of the sunset. He didn't want her to go. Didn't want her near Aiden, Nicolas or Deanna's other son, who he had the pleasure of not yet meeting. He'd only just gotten her back, and everyone wanted a piece of her. It was starting to piss him off.

Daryl just shook his head, moving some stray pieces of hair out of his eyes at the same time. "Naw. Maybe later."

(Y/N) nodded, before taking his hand, using the other to reach up and play with the ends of his hair. He squeezed her hand, a silent demand of her to stay.

"Never thought I'd see you with long hair, Dixon," She said absentmindedly and he snorted quietly. Sometimes it slipped his mind that the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked almost completely different.

"Watch yourself, (L/N)," He shot back, but there was no venom. Just a tender look in his eyes that was reserved for only her. She let out a quiet laugh and brought their joint hands up to kiss the back of his hand before letting go. Merle was right, the asshole. She did make him soft.

He watched the party from a distance, glancing through the window. Trying to get a look, trying to find the courage to go in. His girl or not, the idea of going in there made his skin crawl. Daryl wasn't a people person, it was pretty damn clear. He wished she'd stayed at home with him, but it did make his heart ache slightly knowing she was only going to try and connect with his family. She didn't get pissy about the fact he called them family, didn't judge, didn't expect them to trust her just because they were married. Just tried to connect with them

He let out a heavy sigh, cursing under his breath and turned around, beginning to head back home. Hell, he'd started calling it home now. Maybe it was being with her again, made him feel at home. Maybe he was getting used to this place. Not damn likely. As he was walking past Aaron and Eric's house, (Y/N)'s old home, the light on the porch switched on, and Aaron walked outside

"Daryl. Hey," Aaron greeted, and Daryl resisted a sigh. Sure, he was nice but it was becoming clearer and clearer that this was about him trying to get to know him for (Y/N). But thinking about it, that was exactly what his girl was doing with his family. Goddamn it.

"Thought you were going to that party over there," Daryl responded, leaning against the fence.

"Oh, I was never going to go 'cause of Eric's ankle, thank God," Aaron smiled, looking relieved and Daryl furrowed his eyebrows

"Why the hell did you tell me to go, then?"He snapped, feeling a little guilty by the outburst until he saw the amused (but oddly proud?) look the other man was giving him.

"I said try. You did. It's a thought that counts thing," How long had this guy spent with (Y/N)? Starting to sound just like her.

"All right," Daryl mumbled, pushing off from the fence to walk away until Aaron's voice stopped him again.

"Hey, come in. Have some dinner. Come on, man. It's some pretty serious spaghetti," Aaron offered. Daryl turned to face him, sure he'd see a teasing look on his face. Expecting it to be a joke. But there was a hopeful look on Aaron's face along with a small grin. Yeah, he was starting to see why (Y/N) liked him so much. He hesitated, biting his lip nervously for a second, before walking back to the house. Aaron's grin widened, but Daryl pretended like he hadn't seen anything.

Apart from a greeting from Eric, the three men mostly sat in silence, digging into the spaghetti. Daryl knew he should probably be more aware of how he was eating, he was slurping and he probably looked like a pig (if (Y/N) was there she'd be giving him hell for it), but he'd stopped caring. And while Aaron and Eric shared an occasional muffled laugh, they didn't seem too bothered. Daryl couldn't help but notice the empty two settings on the remaining chairs, and apparently, Eric had followed his gaze.

"We're still getting used to (Y/N) being gone. Enid too. She didn't live with us, but she stayed here a lot because of (Y/N). Guess we still haven't gotten out of the habit of setting their seats," Eric joked lightly, and Daryl made a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Mmm, when you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something," Eric seemed oblivious to the pointed looks Aaron was giving him, and the confused one that Daryl seemed to have etched onto his face. Eric was more bubbly than Aaron, more talkative, but still sweet. He didn't expect responses from Daryl, happy to just talk away. Maybe (Y/N)'s friends weren't too bad " I really think she just wants something to talk about, so... if you see one out on your travels, it would go a long way to..."

Finally, Eric looked over to his husband, seeing him shaking his head and his words died on his tongue. Looking awkwardly between Daryl and Aaron before settling on his pasta, a small apologetic smile on his face

"I thought it was done. You didn't ask him already?" As if she'd heard Eric's silent plea to be rescued from the mild embarrassment of the situation, the sound of the door opening made Aaron and Daryl shoot up until they heard (Y/N)'s voice following.

"Aaron? Eric? You home?" She called, sounding tired, and Aaron let out a relieved sigh, before calling her into their dining room. Daryl couldn't help but smile as she walked in. It still felt like she wasn't real. Like she'd disappear any day and he'd wake up in that barn, or on the road, starving and dehydrated. She grinned back at him, but she didn't miss the teasing wink Eric gave her. "Hey, Dixon. What're you doing here?"

"We invited him for the infamous killer spaghetti," Eric grinned at her, nudging her hip with his shoulder as she walked to stand between his seat and Daryl. Instinctively, Daryl took her hand, and she bit back a child-like grin. Aaron gave her a look, one he couldn't recognise but she clearly did as she glared back at him playfully.

"You told him yet?" She asked, turning slightly to look at Aaron properly, nodding her head towards Daryl slightly. Daryl's confusion only furthered. Why did everyone seem to know what was going on except him? Hell, he was willing to bet if Enid was here too then she'd probably know.

"Was just about to, but <i>someone</i> nearly let the cat out of the bag," Eric looked away guiltily, but it was obvious he was forcing back a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Daryl finally spoke up, and he didn't miss the way her hand tightened around his. Her grin turned slightly mischievous as Aaron started leading them towards their garage. Aaron opened the door and (Y/N) squeezed Daryl's hand again (and if she saw his cheeks starting to go pink, she didn't say anything) while her friend flicked the light on.

The garage was stuffed with spare parts and something that looked suspiciously like a motorbike beneath a piece of huge sheet. (Y/N) let go of his hand, opting instead to lean in the doorway, smiling softly at the excitement that flickered in her husband's eyes, even if his face stayed stoic. It'd been so damn long since he'd seen something like this, and while it reminded him a little too much of Merle's biker buddies, this also felt like home. He felt like a kid in a candy store. Aaron and (Y/N) shared a knowing look behind Daryl's back

"When I got the place, there was that frame and some parts and equipment. Whoever lived here built them," Aaron explained, as Daryl started picking up pieces, admiring them and putting them down again.

"It's a lot of parts for one bike," Daryl stated, trying to hide how happy he was, and he could practically hear (Y/N) rolling her eyes

"Whenever I came across any parts out there, I brought them back. I didn't know what I'd need. (Y/N) tried to figure it out, but it wasn't her area of expertise," There was a teasing tone in his voice at the last sentence and Daryl heard his girl mumble something along the lines of 'shut up. "I always thought I'd learn how to do it, but I get the feeling you already know what to do with it. And the thing is, you're going to need a bike."

"Why?"Daryl pulled back the sheet and saw the skeleton of a bike, with a box of tools next to it.

"I told Deanna not to give you a job because I think I have one for you. I'd like you to be Alexandria's other recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore," Aaron replied. Daryl understood that, probably better than most people in this community. (Y/N) let out a hum of agreement, and Daryl looked over as she turned to glance back into the house. She was protective of her loved ones. Always had been, and he was really starting to realise just how much Aaron and Eric meant to her.

"You want me risking mine, right?"Daryl questioned, sounding sharper than he wanted, but Aaron could tell he meant no harm by it.

"Yeah, because you know what you're doing. You're good out there. But you don't belong out there. I know it's hard getting used to people getting used to you. And I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes. So do I. But the main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you do know the difference between a good person and a bad person, "Hell, he really had spent too much time with his girl. Daryl bit his lip in thought, but he already knew his mind was made up. Being in here all the time was killing him. Even with his girl here, he knew he couldn't stay here for long without getting antsy.

"I got nothing else to do. Thanks. I'll get you some rabbits," Aaron let out a loud laugh at that, patting Daryl's shoulder as he stepped past him, back to his girl in the doorway. She was smiling, asking him silently how he was feeling. He just gave her a tiny smile, and clearly, that was enough for her, as she wrapped her arm around his side.

Daryl couldn't help but notice how close (Y/N) had suddenly gotten with Glenn, Rick, Tara and Maggie. He noticed the way the rest of his family seemed a little more at ease with her, not exactly trusting her yet, but clearly getting on that track. Carl still wasn't sure about her, but Daryl didn't miss how he'd come and actually started conversations with her a few times, instead of avoiding her completely. Part of him was suspicious that it had something to do with his obvious crush on Enid. And while it made his heart warm that she was starting to become integrated with his family, there was always someone whisking her away now. He just wanted to spend some damn time with his wife, but he had to go out with Aaron, and she was going on another run.

And every damn thing that could have gone wrong absolutely did. It'd been a god damn trap, and now he was trapped in a car, surrounded by fuck knows how many walkers with his wife best friend. And the walkers just kept coming, pouring out of the trucks, banging on the window. How fucking long until that glass shattered and they were made into walker meat? But despite the hell going on around him, he couldn't stop a chuckle escaping his lips. It was fucking ironic. Aaron gave him a bewildered look.

"I came out here to not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?" Daryl explained, looking over at Aaron, who still had that look, but had a small, almost sad, smile on his lips.

"You were trying," Aaron said, and Daryl shook his head lightly. Wasn't exactly a choice. There were the kids, his friends, his family. Then (Y/N) got added into the mix, and that was it.

"I had to," He shot back, eyes watching the walkers that were gnashing their teeth outside the window.

"No, you didn't. Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own to the barn. Storm hit and you lead your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back," Aaron had this gentle look, and he went quiet, thinking for a second. When he spoke again his voice was thick "You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. I shouldn't have given up. You didn't."

Daryl went silent, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. He'd given up. On his girl. Given up on her, lost hope started thinking she was dead. And look at what happened.

"I didn't, because I gave up before," It didn't take a genius to figure out what, or rather who he was talking about "Hadn't seen her in two years. Thought she was dead. Found 'er. Ain't givin' up this time. I'll go. I'll lead 'em out. You make a break for the fence."

God, she was going to kill him for this.

Aaron's head snapped over, the beginning of tears in his eyes quickly disappearing as he processed Daryl's words. "No, no, no. This was my fault."

"Wasn't a question. And this ain't yer decision. It ain't nobody's fault. Just let me finish my smoke first. Promise you'll look after ma girl, 'right?" Daryl brought the cigarette back to his lips, taking a draw. He ignored Aaron' stare, his leg bouncing lightly. This'd destroy her. But, she had people to look after. And people would look after her for him. His family would be there, Aaron, Eric, Enid. She'd forget about him after a while.

"No," Aaron said sternly, and Daryl was almost taken back by the tone. Never heard him talk like that. "You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence. We do it together, alright? Whether we make it or not. We do it together. We have to."

Daryl fell back into that silence, biting his lip in thought. (Y/N) would probably never forgive him if he let Aaron die. But she'd never forgive Aaron if he did. Fuck. Shit.

"Alright. You ready?" Daryl took one last drag before extinguishing the cigarette and picking up his knife instead. Hell, he couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. Sorry (L/N) "We'll go on three. One, two-"

But three never came as one of the walkers outside's guts spilt on Aaron's window, making them both freeze and exchange a puzzled look. There was no gunshot. The dead didn't kill their own. His door was suddenly yanked open, making Aaron scuttle back and lean on Daryl slightly, before he saw a guy standing there, holding a badass staff. He climbed out, followed immediately by Daryl. Everything was a blur of guts, blood and aching muscles until they got back to the gate and closed it. He was pretty sure he was just running on adrenaline at this point

"Hey, Daryl?" Aaron said breathlessly and Daryl looked over to see him smiling "Take care of her your damn self."

They got back just in time to see all hell had broken loose. The sound of shouting and screaming greeted them as Spencer let them through the gate, and Aaron had gone sprinting ahead, followed soon by Daryl and Morgan. Daryl's heart was pounding, worried (Y/N) was in the middle of it. Shit, shit, shit, shit. (Y/N) and Abraham were holding Pete down as he squirmed and glared up at them. And there on the floor, Deanna was crying, begging while she pressed against the slice on Reg's neck. Alexandrian's watched in terror, and horror as he choked on his own blood, and Daryl didn't miss the look in (Y/N)'s eyes, beneath all the fear and rage. A look he knew too well. She was reliving something. He only wished he knew what. It was then Daryl noticed Michonne's bloody katana on the floor, where Michonne herself looked at it with disgust. Rick was stood beside Abraham and (Y/N), watching Deanna with pity, but waiting for her instruction as Reg ultimately stopped moving. The air was silent, still, and he could see Aaron bouncing slightly from foot to foot, desperate to check up on his husband as Morgan watched with disdain.

One bullet, and it was done, blood splattered on (Y/N) and Abraham's faces. But she didn't even flinch. Just stared blankly. When they got back to their house, Enid, who'd allegedly been told to stay in the house but snuck out (in Enid like fashion) was wrapped under (Y/N)'s arm. She looked scared still, and Daryl had tried to comfort her, even if it hadn't been much, until (Y/N) had been relieved from the situation and took over. She was like a mini carbon copy of his girl, with the addition of teen angst, but she was easy to talk to (even when she was traumatised). His girl still had that blank look, had it since Rick pulled that trigger, and somehow that scared him more. She ushered Enid to her room, and Daryl knew she would either leave within a few minutes, or she wouldn't move until morning. But Enid didn't protest, just gave (Y/N) a quick hug and rushed upstairs.

His girl was still silent, as they reached their room, as they started changing into their pyjamas, as she went off to brush her teeth and wash the blood off her face, as they climbed into bed. It wasn't until Daryl reached out to touch her and she flinched back, did he attempt to break the silence.

"(Y/N)," He mumbled, and she raised her eyebrows to show she was listening but didn't meet his eyes. His stomach was in a knot, worry, nerves and interest as he watched her. "Hey, look at me."

It took her a minute, but reluctantly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his and he saw it. Guilt, anxiety and trauma all wrapped in one.

"Talk to me," Was all he said, and that was all it took. It was spilling out of her before she could stop it, and her hand found him desperately.

"After Anna, Ben, Andrew, Kai, Mom and I were chased out. Moved camp every day. Didn't know where we were going, just kept moving. One night, we were distracted. Ben was talking about smoke or something, and Kai started sayin' how we should go towards Washington. Said it was one of the few places that might have civilisation. We let out guard down," (Y/N) hesitated again, and Daryl squeezed her hand tightly, prompting her to continue. Every word she spoke, the sadder her eyes grew. The guilt kept building and building, and Daryl felt his own pit of dread in his stomach. She was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. "Some assholes come out of the woods, demand our supplies. I said no and they... they shot Kai. Then Ben and Andrew. Started going through our stuff, held me back as they murdered my family. Then they grabbed mom and-"

Daryl didn't hesitate in pulling her in when her voice hitched and she stopped again. He held her so tight, he was almost certain it was hurting, but she didn't voice any complaints. She just curled into him before continuing.

"Those bastards slit her throat. I had to put her down when she turned. Left me in the middle of the woods. When Reg... I just saw mom. It was like I was back there, reliving again and again on repeat. And I can't help but think that if I'd stepped forward, maybe Reg would be alive," She whispered, fingers clutching onto the sleep shirt he wore. He shook his head, placing a kiss on her hair.

"And you'd be dead. Ain't yer fault. None of it. Not yer ma and yer family. Not Reg. Weren't nothin' you coulda done. Ya cain't blame yerself for it," Daryl said, and while his tone was gentle, the words were firm but they seemed to do nothing to ease her, she just held on tighter. "I know that ain't everythin'. What happened?"

"We lost Noah. He was right there. We had him, and then he was just gone. Glenn and I, we held onto him so hard, but the walkers they- they got him. Pushed him against the glass. We had to watch-" It was then Daryl felt her pull back and she adjusted so her arms were wrapped around him, tucked under his chin again when he pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," He didn't know what else to say. Noah was gone. That kid was something else, annoying sometimes, sure, but he brought this hopeful light to the group, even when they were damn near dying on the road. He found his brain starting to ache and a weird feeling in his chest. Daryl was well acquainted with loss, everyone was now, but it never got any easier. Not when the losses kept coming, and to the people who deserved them the least. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been to watch. What it was like for her. He didn't want to. The thought alone was enough to give him nightmares. So he just held her tightly, even as he felt a wet patch seeping through his sleep shirt. Even as she shook. Even as she drifted off, exhausted and hurting, and he laid awake for hours after. He couldn't make it okay, even if he wanted to. And hell he really did. He couldn't bring Noah back, couldn't wipe the memory from her or Glenn's mind.

The only thing he could do was be there for her, comfort her, help her out of that place whenever she went there.  However, the only thing he could do, right at that moment, was hold her and not let go.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace @reichelhache​

#phoebe writes #blame me #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #carl grimes #enid twd #sasha williams #noah twd #merle dixon #lori grimes #rick grimes #glenn rhee #maggie rhee #maggie greene #beth greene #Carol Peletier #father gabriel #judith grimes #abraham ford #y/n #the walking dead #twd #michonne twd #eugene porter #rosita espinosa #tara chambler #Hershel Greene #aaron twd

[imagine-the-fanfics]

Honesty -- Part 3

Characters: Goro Majima x Reader X Daigo Dojima

Warnings: Cheating, smuttiness, toxic relationship traits

Inspiration: “Wasted on You” by Evanescence ; “Invincible” by Crossfade ; “i hate u, i love u (feat. Olivia O’) by gnash

A/n: Been a hot minute since I shared some smutty goodness. Hope it’s enjoyable!

Majima pulled you inside the room as quickly as he could, and his hands cradled your head, holding it in place as he kissed you more. Your hands rested on his jacket as the two of you continued to kiss. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tried to take it off, but he wrapped his hands around your wrists, pulling them back from his jacket before breaking the kiss.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Majima asked, breathless. His eye searched both of yours for any hint of hesitation. “Your fiancé is downstairs waiting for you.”

“I don’t care. I want you, and I want you now,” You said, pressing your lips to his.

Majima let your hands fall and he shrugged off his jacket. Your hands started working on his tie, untying it and pulling it out from his collar, dropping it to the floor as you started to unbutton his shirt. His hands roamed your body, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at you, searching your eyes for something, but you had no idea what.

“What’s wrong?” You stopped unbuttoning his shirt, looking into his eye.

He took your hands in his again, holding them between the two of you. “I’m not sure we should do this,” he admitted quietly.

“What do you mean? I want this,” you assured. “I’m a willing participant in whatever happens.”

“Exactly,” Majima’s heart broke as he looked at you. “I love you, Y/n. I’ll never stop, but you’re marrying someone else. I can’t stand back and watch that, and it’s only going to be harder if we do this.”

“What are you saying?” You were breathless. Was he rejecting you? “Goro, don’t do this.”

“Y/n…” You could see the pain on his face, the heartache was radiating off of him.

“I’m serious, please don’t turn me away,” you were begging. You needed him. You needed the way he made you feel. You needed to feel loved by him again.

He didn’t let go of your hands but he averted his gaze, turning his head and looking at the carpet. “Goro Majima, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this,” you demanded.

“I don’t answer to you,” Majima replied quietly, “not anymore.”

“You never did,” you reminded him. “You treated me like shit, cheating on me all the time, and I returned it so I’m no better.” You paused. “Look me in the eyes and say you don’t want this.”

Majima looked into your eyes, trying to say it, but couldn’t.

“You can’t. You want this as much as I do. I don’t want to leave this room with regret. Please, Goro, don’t turn me away.” Begging was hard for you, but you couldn’t give up. “I need some piece of joy, and—”

He cut you off, pressing his lips to yours, dropping your hands, exchanging them for your neck. His hands rested on either side, pulling your lips to him as he let himself be consumed by the misery of missing you. You were, for one last moment, his again, and he had no intention of letting you go now, not when you both wanted it so bad. You were a drug, and he needed his fix.

It was mutual. So much time had passed, and the two of you fit together so perfect; the puzzle pieces that were the two of you joined once again, and it was bliss.

“I don’t have any condoms,” Majima admitted breaking the kiss for a moment, looking to you with hesitation.

“I don’t care.” You pulled him down to meet your lips and you finished unbuttoning his shirt.

He pulled at his sleeves, letting the red shirt fall to the ground. His kisses moved to your neck, dipping lower and lower. Frustration and anger filled him as he realized just how low cut this dress was. He already hated Daigo, but this just solidified it even more. Your hands tangled in his hair as you hummed. He came back up to your neck, and your hands moved to his chest as one of his legs found it’s place between your legs. In seconds he had you pinned to the door, kissing you with all the passion that he bore for you. He hiked the skirt of your dress up before he broke the kiss.

“Let’s get this thing off ya, yeah? Don’t wanna wreck it.” Majima’s voice was low and you turned around, holding your hair up so he could unhook the collar of your dress.

He made quick work of it, kissing the back of your neck, reaching for the zipper on the side. He pulled it down slowly before forcefully turning you around again, pulling the dress off of you and tossing it off to the side. His lips were on yours yet again, one hand holding your wrists above your head, the other kneading your chest. You moaned into his mouth, grinding against his leg, feeling the familiar wetness between your thighs.

“Ya really missed me, huh?” Majima couldn’t help but chuckle, trailing kisses down your body, placing a singular kiss on your thigh before pulling your lace panties off and tossing them aside as well.

He continued to kiss, adjusting your legs so he could kiss between your thighs. Your hands found home in his hair.

“Goro…” You moaned.

He looked up at your face, enjoying the sight of your head tilted back, eyes closed in ecstasy. His kisses trailed back up before they were focused on your neck. Your hands scrambled with his belt, quickly removing his belt and tossing it to the side. He grabbed your neck as his kisses returned to your lips. You unbuttoned his pants, taking a moment to feel the erection he had. This time he was the one moaning into your mouth.

He guided you to the bed, pushing you down. He took a moment to appreciate your naked form before removing his pants and climbing on top of you. You were lip locked again, taking in every sound, every touch the two of you shared. His fingers played with you, sliding in and out at a pace that made you whine, wanting more. He didn’t give it to you, though. He pulled his fingers out when he thought you were ready for him, licking them as he stared into your eyes. He aligned himself and entered you, shivering a moment before kissing your neck as he began to thrust.

It wasn’t slow, but he wanted to savor this. You felt better than he remembered, and this wasn’t the mindless sex you normally had; this was bittersweet lovemaking.

“Goro…” You moaned; your eyes closed.

“I’ve missed ya, Princess.” His lips brushed against your neck as he spoke.

He took your wrists in one hand once again, putting them above your head as he continued to fuck you. The two of you groaned and moaned and panted as your hips would meet him, pushing him deeper, enticing him to pick up the pace. He happily obliged.

“Wait,” You pressed a hand to his chest, and he stopped moving, his dick twitching inside you. “Let’s do something else.”

He pulled out and you rolled onto your hands and knees. He knew what you wanted then, grabbing your ass in one hand and lining up once again before entering you. His hands held your hips, and you arched your back. He started thrusting again, harder and faster than before. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you to him. He leaned down, kissing whatever he could reach as he continued.

“Goro!” You were starting to shout his name in pleasure as he kept going. The sound making him go harder, faster. Reaching down to play with you. He knew you were close, he could feel it, and this would push you over the edge. “Goro,” You moaned louder, “I’m—”

“I know, Princess, just let it happen,” Majima muttered against your skin. “Ride the waves, baby.”

Your vision blurred as you came, the waves of pleasure washing over you. The pulsing of your orgasm caused Majima to moan, thrusting more and more until he too met his release. He stayed inside, leaning down to rest on top of you for a moment, catching his breath. He kissed your cheek and pulled out.

“Let’s get ya cleaned up, Princess,” He muttered, rolling over and laying on his back for a split second before getting up and grabbing some tissues. He took care of cleaning you up, gentle and loving, just like it was your first time.

“I love you,” you said thoughtlessly, watching him.

“Don’t,” Majima said, closing his eyes. “Don’t say that. Not when you’re about to marry someone else.”

“I’d leave him for you,” you were no longer speaking thoughtlessly. You meant this.

“Y/n. Don’t.” Majima finished cleaning you up and threw the tissues in the trash before grabbing fresh ones and cleaning himself off. “Bathroom’s yers first,” he sighed, motioning you off towards the bathroom. “If ya go down smellin’ like sex, Daigo’s gonna have a fit.”

You watched him a moment before getting off the bed to finish cleaning up. You felt like you were going to cry, and then you realized the tears were already falling. You looked in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, your makeup was worse, and you had that post-sex look on your face that wouldn’t go away for hours. One look at you and Daigo would know. You sat on the toilet, crying a bit for your broken heart.

You didn’t know, but Majima was standing outside the door listening to you cry. His heart was shattering, and his own tears were falling.

You left the bathroom, and Majima went in after you, washing himself before drying and leaving the bathroom to dress. You already had your panties on and were pulling your dress up. He watched, taking it in. This would probably be the last time he would get to see you like this, and his heart continued to break. He pulled on his boxers and went over to help you. He kissed your back as he zipped your dress and re-clasped the choker. You turned around and kissed hips one last time. He started dressing again, and this time you helped him. You tucked in his shirt, smiling.

“Feels like old times, doesn’t it?” You asked.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” In truth this was so different then it was back then, at least for him it was. He sighed, he wanted you back in his arms every night. He wanted to be with you regularly, whenever you would let him share those intimate moments with him.

You buttoned his shirt, lifting his collar and sliding his tie around, slowly tying it into the same knot it had been before as his hands rested on your waist. He watched you lovingly, nostalgic for when this was normal for the two of you. You hummed as you tied the tie.

“That’s our song,” Majima muttered, watching you.

You just kept humming before patting his chest with your hands. “All set,” you sighed, looking up at him.

He kissed you, catching you off-guard but you kissed him back. Neither of you wanted to leave this hotel room, but both of you had to. Your fiancé was downstairs. His boss was downstairs. The fact they were the same person just made it more complicated for the two of you.

Obligations called and the two of you left the room.

#Yakuza #Goro Majima #Majima #Goro Majima x reader #Majima x reader #Daigo #Daigo Dojima #Daigo x reader #Daigo Dojima x reader

[petri808]

TW: Non con/Dubious con/NSFW sex act w/supernatural creature. Vampire, chase/hunt prey. Primary Character Dabi (Todoroki)

For @bnhamonsterball​ 2020 Tumblr/Twitter main event piece 1. A Treat for hibakyochan on Twitter. Beta’d by Imitationicarus. 2k words 

Give or take the last three hundred years they’d been alive, this had to be one of the silliest holidays for an immortal to witness. Locally, one would call their kind Kyonshī, but ever since the Halloween concept came to Japan, there was a new term attributed to the undead. Vampires.

Not that the Todoroki clan cared about labels, but this holiday allowed them to come out of the shadows for one day of the year without fear of being discovered. Shibuya train station was the hotbed of Tokyo nightlife for Halloween. There were so many people out and about. The pickings were like a kid in a candy store--all these human’s dressed in an array of costumes. It was a part of their culture, so it made sense this holiday pulled the attention of the Japanese people.

“It’s stupid,” Todoroki Dabi hisses. “Why should we dress like these weirdos?!”

“Because it’s easier to blend in.” His younger brother, Shouto, ignores the tirade and fusses with his cape. “This is how the humans think vampires dress.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Capes and stupid looking suits? What’s with your slicked back hair?”

“I enjoy dressing up fancy, and I care if you go out looking like a corpse. So, shut up and get dressed so we can find some food tonight!”

The brothers make their way into a nearby nightclub and slip into one of the shadowed booths. It was easy to move unnoticed through the semi-darkened lounge. Glowing Halloween decor was scattered along the walls. Things like skeletons to pumpkins, ghosts and bats; basically, all the cliche holiday images you could think of. The loud music and disco lighting kept the mindless dancers focused off of the other patrons and boozed up barflies lined the bar counter in giggling packs. So, the only ones paying attention to newcomers were trolling for some action.    

It doesn’t take long for interested parties to drop by. Tall and handsome, Shouto found it easy to attract anyone he desired--men and women--but he was mostly interested in the blood scent they gave off. Dabi, with his crazed features, tended to attract humans that were into seedier whims. Well, they’d better, because they were his favorite meal.

Drinks were ordered to keep up appearances, and Shouto already had an attractive brunette draped across his lap. A blond woman in a zombie-esque costume sidles up to Dabi.

“Are you Frankenstein?” the blond questions as she runs her fingers along the textured staples and warped skin covering the exposed areas of Dabi’s body. “Wow! These seem so real!”

“Woman, I’m not that fucked up monster from the movies. This shit is real.”

“Pfft. This fool got himself chopped up and tossed in a fire, so I had to put him back together.” Shouto smirks at his brother. “He’s lucky they missed his heart.”

“Tch,” Dabi grunts and looks away.

“Is that why you’re burned too?” The female on Shouto’s lap asks as she touches the area around his left eye. “You poor baby.”

“Yes.” He teases her lips back to his own, dragging his canines across the flesh before pulling away. “Which is why I need the assistance of a beautiful woman like you.”

“Mmm…” The woman moans at the contact. “Anything you need, cutie.”

“Gross,” Dabi huffs. “You play with your food too much.”

“And you should learn,” Shouto continues to ghost his fingers over the woman’s cheek and neck, pulling more purrs and enchanting her with his stare, “to have a little fun. Makes it so much sweeter.”

“This is why I hate hunting with you.” Dabi stands and pulls the second female to her feet. “Let’s go have some fun blondie.”

The woman giggles and happily allows the man to drag her away. “I didn’t catch your name, mister.”

“Just call me Touya.”

“Touya,” she purrs. “Where are we going for this fun?”

“You’ll see.”

Humans were such gullible creatures. In the old days, they were much more suspicious and difficult to catch, but now, it was child’s play.

Take for instance the ridiculous story about being chopped up. The girls probably thought the siblings were joking. No one believed in supernatural creatures. Vampires, ghosts, and demons were just a bunch of nonsense to scare little kids. Sometimes, Dabi misses the sport of the old days because easy gets boring, and that’s no fun for an immortal.

So, as soon as they reach an alleyway devoid of Halloween revelers, Dabi pushes the woman against a wall. While one hand grips the base of her throat, the fingers of the other toy with her, tracing long fingernails over the contours of her cheek.

“Such a naïve little thing.” He leans in close, licking and teasing the shell of her ear as he talks. “You know it’s not smart to let a strange man take you into a dark alley.”

The pace of her heartbeat steadily rises, and the delicious scent of arousal mixed with fear pours from her flesh.

His knee nudges her legs apart, then seats itself between them, pressing his thigh forward until it rubs against her groin. A whine squeaks out from the woman and catches in her throat when his hand constricts tighter around it.

“Do you like it rough? Cause I do. Now be a good little girl and close your eyes for me. That’s it,” he whispers as he watches her eyes roll back from the lack of air. “Time to take a short nap.”

Dabi picks the woman up, throws her over his shoulder like a sack of rice, and heads for the forests surrounding Mt. Tanzawa. A human traveling this distance would take hours, but for a vampire, it only took just minutes with their preternatural speed. Sort of like jumping through space and time, they moved faster than the naked eye could process. To others watching, they were simply a blur.

“Wake up!” He slaps the woman’s face, hard.

The sting instantly revives her. “W-What’s g-going on?!” The trees blocked out the bulk of the moonlight, making it pitch black. “Where are we?”

“Far outside of Kanagawa.” Dabi grins and leans into one of the scant beams of moonlight. The woman flinches when he flashes the elongated fangs that were not there earlier. “I’ll give you one minute to run before I turn you into my prey.”

“A-are you gonna k-kill me?!”

“Mmm.” He rubs his chin. “I haven’t decided yet. So, get moving!”

The darkness swallows her screams as she takes off running as fast as her legs could carry her. But he knows it’s hard to see where she’s going with brush and fallen tree limbs, rocks and other debris tearing through her clothing. She trips and scrambles to her feet again, tears pouring down her face. Behind her, Dabi’s manic laughter echoes and bounces off the trees making it difficult to pinpoint his location.

“Someone help me!”

“There’s no one for miles,” Dabi replies harshly.

“What do you want from me?!” she cries out.

But her pleas go unanswered this time. He could hear the sounds of brush crunching under her feet as she barrels through the forest. They mask his own movements well, and the further she runs, Dabi could imagine the pain being exacted through lashes all over her skin. ‘Ughhh!’ Dabi groans and licks his lips. The woman smells absolutely delicious! Her blood and sweat trail left in her wake and the fear coursing through her veins! Nope little brother, this is so much sweeter! He loves the pounding of her heartbeat echoing in his eardrums like a primal rhythm driving him wild! It’s been so long since he’d had a meal like this one, and it was time to enjoy it.

He pounces on her from behind and clamps down so quickly, she has no chance to react. The woman’s screams tear through the night along with the puncture of his fangs into the supple white flesh of her neck. She claws in vain wherever she can reach, but the larger Dabi has no problems controlling her writhing body.

“That’s it, scream for me baby,” he mumbles into her skin.

Fuck, she tastes as good as he’d hoped! He sucks gingerly at the coppery blood. There’s no rush to this meal. And besides, the slower he drinks, the longer the heart holds out.

“Please,” the woman whimpers, “I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill me.”

Dabi releases his fangs and flips the blond over.

“Is that so?” Dabi keeps one hand on her throat, and he runs the other between her thighs and up her skirt. She instinctively clenches her legs. “Tch, thought so.”

“No, wait! I’m sorry!” she sobs and relaxes her legs again. “Take it. Please j-just don’t ki-kill me.”

“If you insist.” He grins and releases her neck. “Get the fuck on your hands and knees.”

The blonds shaky body complies, and she assumes the position. Dabi flips her skirt up and tears the fabric of her panties, then releases his own cock. He yanks her hair and wraps his hand around her throat to hold her still.

“You’re being such a good girl.” His icy breath fans over her skin, causing her to shiver. “And if you satisfy my dick, I’ll let you live.”

His cold hard cock buries itself in the woman’s tight and hot pussy.

“Fuck— yeah,” he moans, pounding relentlessly into the woman.

Her pussy was so perfectly tight, it practically sucked his dick in. She couldn’t control her body’s reaction to his conquest as sticky liquid trails down her thigh. Her quieted sobbing falls on deaf ears with Dabi too engrossed in plundering his prey.

“You should feel special, blondie.” He leans in close and licks her cheek. “Not many can say they’ve been fucked by a vampire and lived.” Dabi laughs. “Course no one’s gonna believe you, either!”

The swell of his impending orgasm triggers his icy blue eyes to turn blood red. Dabi pulls her up until they’re both just on their knees and bites down on her neck once more. He grabs her hips hard, and his sharp nails dig into the flesh.

Her moans echo into the still night air as a different set of heat floods her entire body. It was a chemical from his bite that brought on the wave of euphoria. It wasn’t something he always used to placate his prey, but it was harder to control during sex and simply came out.

She weaves one hand behind his head, and another around his ass and thigh seemingly begging for more contact.

“Tou—ya...” she purrs, his name dribbling over and over from her lips as he rides out his orgasm.

“Damn bitch,” Dabi sneers after unhinging his fangs from her throat. “Don’t get comfortable unless you wanna become my sex slave.” He knew it was just the spell making her so compliant, but frankly, the idea was appealing to him. Been a century since his last one. With all the blood loss, the woman is slowly losing consciousness. Sent into a dream world created by the chemicals of lust and the toxins from his bite. Perhaps he’d unlocked a side of her that she’d never known existed?

“I-I want more,” she whispers.

Dabi pulls out roughly and turns her around. “What did you say, slut? Getting turned on are ya?”

“I-I don’t know,” she cries, tears falling down her cheeks and skin tingling from the icy grip of his fingers. “I l-like it…”

“Hmm, maybe I could have a little more fun with you after all. What’s your name, bitch?”

“T-Toga.”

Dabi’s eyes flash red with the most sinister of smiles, then pricks his own finger on one of his fangs. He smears a drop of his blood on Toga’s lips before forcing her to suck more of it in. And as her eyes slowly turn red, he smirks.

#bnhamonsterball #trigger warnings #bnha #dabi todoroki #dabi #Bnha dabi #vampire #halloween event #tw: noncon #tw: violence #tw: sex #tw: prey

[yslore]

Writing Asks

thank u to sarah @soldouthaz, lily @theisolatedlily and late @tomlinvelvetfics for tagging me !!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted

started in eighth grade after moving which fucked me up (i’m still to recover lmao) n i needed a distraction, reading had always helped but writing is what let me see what the root of my agony was. (im not trying to be pretentious i swear) i first started on wattpad (love hate relationship to this day) and beginning of lockdown this year gravitated to ao3 which has been my saving grace !!!

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?

so far i’ve mostly written in louis’ pov. i’ve had to ask this question in the early stages — i resonate the closest to harry. most of my wips are harry centric for that reason. i mean, yes and no — i tend to take some part of me and fit it into the character but at the same time i don’t like seeing me on a page so yes and no.

3. where do you often find inspiration?

EVERYWHERE. mostly others’ stories be it in the way of songs, music, writing, art. usually it’s me coming across a vaguely aesthetic picture and my brain spitting out one or two random scenes and me trying to make that a story.

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?

both !!! i have new wips but also i lost a lot of motivation to do anything for a bit. school is sucking the soul out of me — it’s both easier and harder with it being online, the worst part is i can never truly feel like i’m getting a break from it. recently it’s been easier for me bc of the friends i made (ily all) it’s hindered a little bit bc i can’t go out and watch people and streetlights and the blur of cars and try to pour out that feeling into words and create something. at the same time it’s helped me gain more perspective on people and relationships which has been a massive help to writing in general.

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence?

depending on the number of classes i have/attend, my mental stability, the story and my sensitivity. i often can’t stand loud noises so there’s that but there is always some noise or the other so it’s never truly silent. i like it that way. sometimes i just play intense studying playlist on spotify and write, Lucida by Odin Sørlie and Haunted Heart by Dawn, Dawn, Dawn are my favourites.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?

excessive usage of the same word in mine. in general, i’m not a fan of stereotypical characters or romanticising harmful themes.

7. describe your ideal writing setup

2 am, in bed, music still ringing in my ears, three texts from my best friend about a story or about their day. under the blanket, the room smelling of chocolate or something sweet.

8. favorite time of day to write?

anytime but afternoon. those hours are for naps.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?

fiction? i’d love to write a fantasy au 👀

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it?

yep yep. i just edit an old story or read my old works or other writers’ fics. i gave up trying to force myself into writing — i hated the end product and felt bad so.

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult?

probably the emotions? dialogue without a doubt — i dread writing it. it doesn’t come to me naturally. i can write lengths without dialogue tbh. also smut — it’s an eh eh aspect.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable)

my wonderful friends. they do dumb shit and i want to tell the world about their dumb shit so i make characters out of them.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word?

as of now it is fucker — delightful word that one. least favourite is probably squelch — just no.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?

the dreamy feeling i manage to write without a doubt !!!! dialogue and pacing. i don’t have the best dialogue or the pacing or the length for fics but i’m working on all of those !!

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?

still a wip so i can’t tell you much except that it’s a proper treat. will write this once i’ve posted that fic !!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?

*nervous laughter* the font changes from fic to fic — crush is comic sans, size 11. October was Lora, 11. Twisted in bedsheets is courier new, 11. stargazing is spectral, 11. so yeah — whatever the fic demands. single spaced !!!! except when i’m overwhelmed i do double spaces.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?

I Cannot Type. if you think i can — congratulations you were fooled. autocorrect is the loml.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?

of course !!!! i basically do not exist out of my writing.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?

pain, pining, longing. lust.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?

we’re all fucked up but we’re trying and trying sometimes is enough. you shouldn’t spend your life carved out around one person. it’s okay to ask for help and need a shoulder to lean on. i hope these come across in my future fics !!!!

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?

bold of you to assume i’ve ever received advice.

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?

a new fic. will update the answer once that fic is out !!!!!

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?

chronologically. i can’t do out of order. i do have a page full of scribbles but they are to tell me the order sjakmd.

24. how do you handle criticism?

if it’s constructive then well. no thick skin tbh. makes me feel as if i need validation from someone else on my art which isn’t necessary but my brain is wired to seek it and it’s a hassle.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?

write everything you would want to read. write it bad, don’t worry about the quality. don’t worry about the audience. end of the day, it should be something you can turn to for comfort not something that makes you feel bad.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?

people telling me they like my writing and it could take them out of this world for a few minutes !!!!!

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?

probably crush verse !!!! harry — his is probably the one character where i dump most of me in.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?

rant to me about anything. i enjoy talking. ask me about wips so i can take the little guilt and write more.

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?

it’s nice to let go and express things and create characters with a better situation than mine.

30. why do you write?

keep myself busy.

boost yourself + tags

1a. share the last sentence you wrote

No kissing. No flashbacks.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about

a little something i’m writing inspired by @brickredtoe’s art !!!!

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of

ok. well. from 5436 miles

“Or we could always add a trail of stars to one of those moons,” he replies, words dragged out, rolling around in his mouth.

He can see the glint in his eyes even behind his closed lids. Everything about Louis is inked and etched into every fiber of his being.

He would’ve kissed him, words pouring from his mouth into Harry’s, only half his.

He snorts. “And make it seem like the moon has a buttplug? No, thanks.”

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s)

both my published fics have circular endings.

5436 miles — Louis always had more stars in his eyes.

these tornadoes are for you — His heart beats in peace.

5a. link to the last fic you read.

sugary sweet by the immensely talented @soldouthaz

6a. link the last work you published

here

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable)

wheeee

8a. someone that inspires you

taylor. she’s so so wonderful.

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year

all of riv, sarah, ris and late’s fics. they’ve been so so comforting. Event Horizon by @mercurial-madhouse

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag!

@mercurial-madhouse @harryanthus are the only ones coming to mind atm. i’ve been up for too long apologies.

#long post #games #writing asks #q q q

[mellometal]

Hey, everyone.

If you saw the post from earlier, I had to delete it. There were things I forgot to discuss and things that didn't get saved into my drafts. Sorry if you have to see this again.

I've been WAITING to talk about Glee. Not in the good way either. There's so much wrong with the show, and it's sickening. Yes, I've watched the show last year. Against my will, but that's because of other people refusing to put on anything else besides Glee. I can say that I hate Glee with my entire being. (My initial reason for hating it was because they covered "SING" by My Chemical Romance and turned it into a slow, patriotic song when it's a song about rebellion. NOTHING about "SING" is patriotic. I hated the show since I first heard about it...for that very reason. I was like thirteen or so at the time when I first heard about Glee? Despite it being out since 2009.

Though it's been over for several years now, it's a show that many people have mixed feelings about. From what I've seen, you either love Glee or you absolutely hate it. There's no in-between that I've seen. (If you can't already tell, I hate the show.)

The show is a literal dumpster fire, the characters are all fucking awful people and all of them are poorly written, the script pisses me off, it literally makes me feel disgusting, and don't even get me started on the covers. Most of the covers aren't that good. A lot of them sound like nails on a chalkboard to me. The pacing of the show makes NO sense in certain areas (like when Blaine was initially made to be a grade above Kurt, but was then changed to be like the same grade as him so he'd stay). It just feels like everyone in the show is either a Mary Sue, a Gary Stu, their whole personality is just that they're from a minority group or they're EDGY AND HARDCORE DELINQUENTS BLEEEEHHHHH, creepy as fuck, bigoted as all hell, or they're just background characters who occasionally have the spotlight.

TW: The following post and any other posts that I'll make about this show contains subject matter that may be triggering for some audiences. It will go into subjects like racism, homophobia, ableism, outing of a person in the LGBT community, bigotry in general, statutory r@pe (between teachers and students), teachers being creepy towards students, mentioned past child m0l3stati0n and invalidation of the victim's trauma, making fun of su1c1d3, making fun of overdose, making fun of drug addiction....a lot of fucked up things.

If anything mentioned above is triggering for you, please feel free to scroll and consume safe media instead. I'd rather have you be safe than to be triggered by anything I'm gonna talk about.

Let's start off easy. The characters. It's easy to tear them apart. At least the most problematic ones.

Rachel, the Main Character™️, is textbook definition of a Mary Sue. Instead of calling her Rachel, I'm gonna call her Mary Sue for the whole post. She's almost completely perfect (like too perfect), her flaws are minor if anything, she gets all the special treatment....you get the picture. When Mary Sue does anything fucked up or she says anything fucked up, it either goes unnoticed, people make up excuses for her being a shitty person, or it gets twisted so it looks like Mary Sue is the hero! (I hate her. So much. I cannot stand her.)

Aaawwww, Mary Sue didn't want some OTHER GIRL (Sunshine) to steal HER spotlight, so she SENT THIS GIRL TO A CRACK HOUSE. A FUCKING CRACK HOUSE, OF ALL PLACES. A PLACE WHERE THIS GIRL COULD HAVE BEEN PUT IN SERIOUS DANGER. THIS GIRL COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED AT BEST AND KILLED AT WORST. Yes, I'm aware not all drug houses are the same, but still. It doesn't matter what this girl did. What Sunshine did is irrelevant. It's not okay to send people to strange places where they don't know anyone, and are put in danger, even to the point of either getting injured or killed. But it's okay, because at least it's not an "active" crack house you sent Sunshine to, RIGHT, Mary Sue? You still sent some poor girl to a place where she could have been put in serious danger, even to possibly get injured or killed, all because you didn't want her to steal YOUR spotlight. You fucking disgusting, entitled, bratty cunt. You don't need the spotlight all the time anyway. THAT'S HOW THEATRE WORKS. YOU DON'T ALWAYS GET THE LEAD ROLE. YOU DON'T ALWAYS GET THE ROLE YOU WANT. AND THAT'S OKAY. YOU WORK WITH WHAT YOU GOT. Sincerely, a theatre kid.

There are other fucked up things Mary Sue has done, but this is the one thing I could find anyone talking about. If I remember correctly, she hurt her Gay Best Friend™️ Kurt in some way. All I remember is that Kurt was mad at Mary Sue about something. Mary Sue is annoying as fuck. What else can I say about her?

Next, we have Finn, who's textbook definition of a Gary Stu. I'll call him Gary Stu throughout this post. I hate this fucker too. He's the Main Character's Boyfriend™️, the Hot Quarterback™️, and The Good Guy™️. Yet....he's not a good person. He's treated like he's a good person, but he's really not. His flaws are fairly minor and excused (and any major flaws aren't even talked about much), he's almost completely perfect, and every fucked up thing he does is ignored or is justified in some way. Like how he outed Santana as lesbian in the hallway WITHIN EARSHOT OF EVERYONE. HE DIDN'T EVEN APOLOGIZE FOR THIS.

As a woman who has struggled with her sexuality growing up, this really brought back shit I went through. I "dated" boys when I was younger to cover up the fact that I'm only attracted to other women. I wasn't happy with these guys at all. I acted like I did so nobody would suspect anything. I felt nothing for them, except for in a platonic way. I've been outed twice. Once when I thought I was bisexual with a strong preference for other women (by my dad's girlfriend at the time), and when I came out as lesbian (by my brother). It sucks to be outed. The people who outed me in real life could have put me in danger. They could have made it so I had no place to go back to. They could have had me get hurt. It's a scary feeling. Like, it doesn't matter if you're supportive or if you're in the LGBT community. You don't fucking out people without their explicit permission. You especially don't out people to their abusers or to people they don't trust, let alone out them publicly. That's what happened to me. I don't wish this on anyone.

***By the way, for anyone who's closeted, you're valid, I love you, and I know how it feels to be stuck in the closet. You don't have to come out right now. Come out whenever you're ready to. Whenever it's safe for you to do so.***

Or how about the fact that Gary Stu made fun of Kurt's voice because he's gay? Gary Stu apparently has ✨anger issues✨ and that's pretty much the excuse they use to justify him doing fucked up shit to people.

They treat the characters who are from minority groups (i.e., BIPOC, AAPI, LGBT community, disabled people) like absolute garbage, put them through all this horrific shit, or they put them on a pedestal simply for being in a minority group. The teachers and other school staff are either written to be total bigots (Sue), or they're total pr3dators (Mr. Schue, the school nurse, and another teacher who I can't remember her name off the top of my head).

Sue pretty much only exists to be a poorly written villain who's a bigoted bitch just to be a bigoted bitch. Yes, there were some things she WAS right about (like how "Blurred Lines" wasn't an appropriate song choice for the Glee Club™️, but Mr. Schue The Pr3dator™️ downplayed it). Other than that...that's all I can think of. Because everything else that came out of her mouth was bigoted bullshit. Like these right here, for example:

Or how she drugged the principal, date r@ped him, and blackmailed him?

How about them making a tasteless joke about Sue committing su1c1d3 and having her "overdose" on multivitamin gummies?

DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN HOW FUCKED UP ALL OF THIS IS? I do? Well, first of all, she called people racist, homophobic, ableist, and otherwise disgusting names. She boiled them down to their race, sexual orientation, their disability, and their appearance in general. Second, SHE DRUGGED, BLACKMAILED, AND DATE R@PED SOMEBODY. I don't think I need to explain how that's bad. The evidence is right there. Third, she said she was committing "sue-icide" by overdosing on multivitamin gummies. (Yes, you actually can OD on vitamins in supplement form, and it can cause serious symptoms and even death. Specifically with vitamins A, D, E, and K, and Iron. Vitamins A, D, E, and K are fat-soluble. They're a lot harder to remove from the body. The B vitamins and vitamin C aren't as severe if you do OD on them because they're water-soluble, but still be careful. You can't OD on vitamins and minerals you find in food. If you take supplements, vitamins, etc., only take what's on the bottle.) As someone who has su1c1d@l thoughts on and off, this is extremely insulting. Yes, I do use humor and I joke about my own experiences to cope, but this? Nah. Nothing about this is funny or cute in the slightest. Enough said.

Do I need to explain how fucking terrible it is to make light of a serious topic like this? It was never funny to see Britney Spears' mental health be at that low of a point in 2007. It was never funny to see the abuse the paparazzi inflicted on her. How the fuck was this ever okay? You can dislike Britney Spears all you want, but this was never it.

This is all I have for now. I'll probably make a part two because there are way too many things to talk about.

#mello speaks #glee #i hate this show #tw racism mention #tw date r@pe mention #tw suidice #tw homophobia mention #tw ableism mention #tw drug mention #i literally hate everyone in this show so much #tw pr3dator mention (will dive deep into this in part two) #tw od mention #anti glee

[kbstories]

What are some of your favorite one piece moments and why?

WHOO BOY thanks for asking and buckle up ‘cause this is gonna be a long one

(A note before I start: I read OP up to volume 63 in German and the rest in English, so I apologize if I get some pre-ts names wrong! Also these are in somewhat of a chronological order and based solely on the manga.)

Luffy giving the dog (Shushu?) the last box of food: This is the moment that made me love Luffy, it’s such a simple but effective way of showing his core philosophy that people’s treasures and dreams have inherent value and that everyone deserves to have someone by their side who will fight for them when they can’t do it themselves.

Bellmere: Just. Everything about her and that flashback. “They are my kids”, just... It made me emo back then, still makes me emo today. Love it, love her, love her design and what she’s all about. Yes.

Luffy going “I’m nothing without my crew!” in Arlong Park: Bear with me here ‘cause I was like 12 when I read this arc the first time, and back then I didn’t get why Nami wouldn’t just ask for help (so the “Help me!” moment only became a tear-jerker during my many, many re-reads). Something that did make immediate sense to me was Luffy straight-up admitting his skillset is limited to punching things very good, and I was like hell yeah go Luffy because I was 12. (I also love that this sentiment was echoed by Luffy going “I can’t be Pirate King without you” in Whole Cake Island two years later, so that’s another favorite right there.)

Skipping ahead otherwise we’ll be here all day but Luffy carrying Sanji and Nami in Drumm. Seeing him climb up that mountain with his bare hands and feet fucked me up even as a kid, the way Oda paced it really made you feel what an absolutely harrowing experience that must’ve been and I still think about it a lot.

Zoro fighting Mr. 1 in Alabasta: That fight was just mindblowingly cool and I love Zoro. That panel of him kneeling in his own blood after winning the fight hrgghhgh and oh hey THE STRAWHATS SHOWING THE X ON THEIR ARMS FOR VIVI 🥺🥺🥺  how are those not permanent tattoos Oda FIGHT ME

The entirety of Noland & Kargara, how they died without seeing each other and fully mending the argument they had and how Luffy ringing the bell hundreds of years later redeemed it all. Oda went incredibly hard on Skypia’s backstory and I’m not entirely sure what possessed him to tell a story that tragic but I, for one, am grateful. (Fun fact I was extremely late to this whole shipping thing and thus One Piece is very much about the platonic nakamaship of it all for me but even as a clueless baby fan I shipped THE FUCK out of Noland & Kargara oh my)

“I want to live!” + Sogeking shooting the WG flag + Usopp’s speech to Luffy + Luffy almost fighting to the death to keep his crew safe + MERRY’S GOODBYE: I bawl my eyes out every time I read Water 7, it’s my favorite arc to this very day because it’s just so complex and nuanced and the crew’s limits being tested in every way is just a very rewarding (if incredibly emotional) thing to witness. It put both Robin and Usopp on the map as two of my absolute favs and I’m so grateful for that.

The Strawhats teaming up against Oz (?) was something I didn’t know I needed until I saw it and I’ve been gunning for another Strawhat group fight ever since. The team work, the absolute trust, just everything about it was a delight and made all the stuff that followed (Zoro & Sanji laying down their lives for their captain, the entirety of Sabaody) so much more painful. Also Bink’s Sake because Brook deserves to have friends to sing it with him every single day of his life!!!

Luffy refusing to ask if the One Piece is real or not on Sabaody: I just adore that moment. Rayleigh was so soft and indulgent with these baby pirates carrying along the legacy of Roger’s old hat... My heart...

Mr. 2/Bon Curry (?) in Impel Down. ‘Nuff said.

Ace saying “Thank you” after you-know-what but let’s not linger on that because I was reading One Piece weekly back then and it traumatized me to the point I didn’t keep up with it for 10 years haha!

The post-timeskip era is a bit of a blur to me because I binged it all just a few months ago and my memory is McFreaking Terrible but I’ll start with Law being warned on two separate occasions that he might not like an alliance with Luffy, making the alliance anyways and proceeding to burn in “Strawhat-ya is a fucking moron” purgatory ever since. I don’t care if it’s overdone, every year Law loses to Luffy’s idiocy is one added to my lifespan. Godspeed, king of emo pirates. You dug your grave now lie in it.

Sabo coming back: I know there’s discourse about that doing bad things to the plot and the stakes of character deaths in One Piece, bla bla bla, I truly do not care. Luffy getting one (1) big brother back and Sabo stepping up to Ace’s legacy was so monumental when it happened that it briefly brought me back from my One Piece hiatus and I immediately bought volume 75 when it came out in German. (Now if Oda will only let him live and let Luffy actually hang out with his brother I would very much appreciate that, huff huff.)

USOPP UNLOCKING OBSERVATION HAKI AND SAVING LUFFY AAAAAAAAAA

Corazon holding onto life until Law was safe + Corazon’s smile: Corazon in general, actually. Law harboring that little bit of kindness he was shown as a kid and plastering it all over his ship and his crew and his own fucking skin. Mmmm love me a big sip from that good ol’ heartbreak.

Still in Dressrosa, Zoro going “I wonder what he’s dreaming about” when Luffy smiles in his sleep. It’s this little line and kinda insignificant because they’re talking to Sabo in that moment (and that’s clearly like woah), but it’s so fucking soft and it made my heart grow three sizes so there.

Jack getting one-shotted by Zunesha: Get rekt you insufferable asshole oh my god

Whole Cake Island is practically 78 chapters of favorite moments but Nami saying goodbye to Sanji + Luffy almost ripping his arms out to warn Sanji about Pudding + Sanji making a Strawhat lunchbox by accident + “That’s just how you are” + Luffy muffling his pain in front of the mirror so his crew doesn’t worry (Oda turn on your location I just want to talk) + Sanji carrying Luffy back to the ship + “I’m your captain now! Don’t die even if it kills you!” so yeah, the entire thing. Also Katakuri??? What a loser I love him

[Spoilers for Wano]

And if I went into all the things I like about Wano we’d truly be here all day. Gun to my head I’d probably pick Zoro & Luffy reuniting, Kidd & Killer in Udon (of course) and “At sea you fight pirates!” as my favorite moments so far. Also Jinbei joining the crew after a million years holy shit FINALLY and Luffy getting angry over spilled bean soup and KIDD BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF APOO FUCK YES and don’t get me started on the new characters especially Kiku and Yamato and---

[End of Wano spoilers]

Anyhow. My answer to “What’s your favorite One Piece moment?” is basically “YES” to all of it, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#ask #anon #long post #one piece spoilers #i decided to leave the german names just to make y'all suffer #i will have you know that the two giants on little garden are called Boogey and Woogey in the German version #and Chopper's dad is called Doc Bader instead of Hiluluk (??) #navigating OP in three different languages is an interesting experience to say the least #one piece

[dorminchu]

untitled [WIP] ereani 30 days challenge - 14. (NSFW)

Character study undertaken through two scenes of masturbatory embelleshment. Sauce under the cut!

01.

She didn’t hesitate, chinos rolled up to her knees, two fingers on her clit, driven by a feverish urgency. He was bigger than her fingers—frustrating enough to be reminded of this, but it wasn't a perfect substitute anyway, just a consequence of yearning—on his hands and knees, he teased up her slit with his own hand, until she rolled her hips, impatient. He looked up with a grin, hunger in his eye she could definitely attest to.

"I've always wanted to do this," he rumbled.

Leaning in, he mouthed up her cunt for show, licked a harder stripe in the same fashion, grunting softly when she closed her legs around him. Then he went back for more, shameless with his tongue, glancing upward a few times like this was supposed to be impressing her and Annie shoved his head in her lap with her ankles.

He kept groaning her name, cupping her hips and her arse. She could lie still, let him devour her, but right now, what she wanted was to be filled. Told him as such and he drew his tongue out, mouth slick, grinning slyly.

Three fingers buried in her cunt were a better compromise than none.

So he got on his knees and she opened to him. He entered, slower than she would've liked, folding her knees up as far as possible. He hadn't even undressed, just unbuttoned his chinos enough to penetrate her; hardly fair, with her trousers bunched up at her knees and his cock throbbing away inside her.

"Don't get it on the sheets," she muttered, stricken with a funny sense of deja-vu, four years old. “I won’t be able to explain this away.”

His good eye flickered to her face. "Then, I'll have to finish inside you."

"Fuck," said Annie out-loud, clenching hungrily—on him—on her fingers. Shut her eyes again, panting mulishly.

The Eren in-mind glanced over at where they were connected, wet his lips. "Ready?"

"Yes!" she hissed out-loud, then silently: "yes, god, please."

He was grinning again. She let him continue, slow, deeper thrusts, until she was arching for it. He palmed her breast some more, hushing her, holding her. Annie sat up in a tangle, trying to fuck her hand, a repetitive thoughtless stabbing motion and—no, he would be gentler than this. Fell to meet the sheets, raising her hips—he was the one in control now—yearning for a hand on the small of her back, the nape of her neck.

"Oi. If you can't trust yourself," the heel of her palm felt solid against her mouth, a decent substitute, "bite."

She gnawed the side of her fist, gasping, left no marks. Rolled over onto her stomach and kept going. He'd looked thick enough in-hand; she felt more aroused imagining him behind her—the hot, blunt press of him against her weeping cunt was reassurance enough and she let him penetrate—teeth digging into her knuckles, shameless.

"Good girl," he muttered, mussing up her hair, rubbing her nape, thrusting sweetly. "You're so wet. Miss me?"

She moaned in honest, wordless answer.

Eren laughed. "God, I missed you too." He fucked her about as tenderly as he'd promised, still enough to make the bed creak. "Annie? I want to see you," he purred. "Turn around."

She shuddered, tangled up on her side, halfway off the mattress, fucking her hand steadily. It was almost enough.

He didn't have to pull out, just hauled one ankle over her shoulder and continued thrusting. A strange paradox between tenderness and intensity, his skin under clothing still managed to singe her. "I love you," he murmured, "do you feel the same?"

Annie couldn't answer. He thrust deep into her, rolling strokes that made her arch. She opened her mouth to tell him otherwise but what came out of her was "I want to," her voice cracking in the silence, helpless under his gaze, trying to hide in the crook of her arm, moaning, "God, I wish I could."

Traitor that she was, he should have no reason to forgive her. But he swept her hair from her eyes and put her wrists above her head, giving her the edge of his palm, sweet insistence in his expression that made her eyes prickle and her cunt tighten, humiliatingly so. He began to move again, a cheap trick that made her want to come, just to drag him with her and sink the truth into his jugular: I wish I didn't.

His brows scrunched when he got close. She arched up to meet him and he was so much taller it was unfair, hissing through his teeth. "Annie," he grunted, "mm, you've been such a good girl to-night—I want you to come."

She groaned heatedly into his—her—fist, but it really didn’t matter whose, she was close. Bit down when she spent, hard enough to ache in the sweetest sense. With his head bowed he buried to the hilt, coming steadily inside her.

Well, she could only imagine that. Not quite sated, the hand on her thigh wandered north and quickly sent her into a second, rawer wave of pleasure she could not control, unable to lead but be led—by the hips, his hands, her hands, his mouth turned open against her calf. When she’d composed herself he leant on his elbow, still inside her. He didn't kiss her, just stroked back her hair. "I was going to ask you something before you left."

"Mm?"

He leaned in. "Well—"

—Annie opened her eyes, vision blurred, shivered, in the dorm, come staining her thighs and fingers and a row of crescents blooming across the back of her hand, no bloodshed. Exhaling once, a tired, lonely hiss.

She sat up and Dreyse’s profile bloomed into her vision, changing into night-clothes. Annie froze, still with her hand down her pants. They assessed each other in tenuous, silence, and then Dreyse pulled a face like four years had crystalised, told her to go the fuck to sleep, it was three in the morning.

Four years ago Annie would have hit her with the pillow. Now she just laughed, bitter, wondering how much she’d betrayed.

02.

She was prettier in uniform. Rucking down her trousers—looked new—and she didn’t bother with anything else, straddling his hip.

“Condom?”

Eren gripped her waist. “I have to get up, they’re in—”

“—fuckssake,” Annie hissed, “It’s been weeks. I just want you in me.” 

A lot could happen in three years, even two. His breath sucked in through his teeth. “God, Annie. I want to marry you.”

She threw him a teasing look. “Oh? Just because I want you to come in me?”

He barked out a laugh, growling: “Get your arse over here.”

She did not tremble, just raised her hips to help him line up and impaled herself his dick with a satisfied grunt, shoving back, taking him to the root, groaned shakily when he bottomed out. "Stop."

"What? Hurt?"

"No," she said, but her breath hitched as he throbbed, "just—you're big."

Well, she'd said he was big last time. At least implied it. It was all the encouragement he needed for his mind to vault five steps ahead, bending her over the kitchen table, braced on her elbows. "You think I'm big?"

It was more indicative of his own priorities that mind-Annie didn't fluster or tease him lightly for asking, just hummed. "Compared to you, I'm very delicate. You should be mindful, you know?"

He groaned his agreement, pulled back, pushed, gradual strokes, until he was pressing flush against her arse (his fist) and she was panting hard. He tried pulling back from here and she squeezed at the base in a way that made his eyes roll. Groaning, he eased up his thrusts, like drawing breath. He wasn’t going to come this early.

He gripped her waist (edge of the table) to steady himself, inhaling sharply. She clenched on him every time he pulled his hips back, but he could feel her starting to relax.

"Annie," running his hands up her stomach and breasts, rocking his hips, breathless, "you're so wet, is it good?"

He didn't even know why he said it but if he stopped now, he would break the reverie, so he kept (moving, pumping at a good enough pace) caressing her as she groaned, bowing her head. He reached down to (brace himself more firmly) find her clit and her jaw slacked, hips rolling to meet him."Eren—" sucking in a frantic breath as he bottomed out "—fuck!"

Buried in her warmth, she clenched (a million times better than his fist). “Jesus,” he grunted.

"Are you really gonna come?" she intoned, blunt; an involuntary echo.

Eren huffed, easing back out to the tip and sinking; this time she jerked, moved like she was trying to scale the table. "Fuck, you like that?" He got a hand in her golden hair (curling white-knuckled on the wood-grain) continuing these slower, deeper thrusts until she was moaning loud enough to be overheard through the door. His self-control fractured; he braced firmly to keep upright (pinned her flush against the table, head to the side and breasts squished), a satisfied grunt as he started (fucking his fist) rutting into her. He growled: "Can't make a mess. I'll have to finish inside you."

She whined a little, shoving backwards, cheeks flushed. In anticipation?

"Oh," he sucked in a breath, "you want me that bad, hm?"

With the same subtle catch in her breath as when she'd called him big, she muttered: "I won't die if you go a little harder."

He sped up, swallowed a noise, leaning down. "Shit." All he could register was the merciless squeeze of her cunt (his hand), the frantic slap of his hips against her ass as she ceded control. (Losing control, he was going to—) "Ann," he groaned, arching up, "oh, God, Annie."

He spent with a sharp inhale, and she milked him for all he was worth until sated, shuddering as he pulled out, doing up his pants. She raised on her arms, cracking her back. "Thanks," she muttered, slightly breathless, "I really needed this."

She was all pretty curves and edges, the swell of her hips and breasts and the softer flush of her vulva exposed, trailing semen; he wished he could see her face right now.

Eren tried to compose himself, half-expecting to see a stain on his thigh but of course there wasn’t any. There was semen on his hand, though, on the table; a hell of a lot more than he'd expected. 

"Fuckssake," he muttered, and went to get a rag from the cabinet.

#not sfw #ereani #ereannie #eren jaeger #annie leonhardt #hitch dreyse #fanfic #fanfiction #wip #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #smut #gratuitous smut #:) #I'm not sorry

[stonebreakerseries]

Day 2: Mercy + “That’s the easy part”

Day 2 of @oc-growth-and-development​’s OC-tober challenge and the @fictober-event​. Another successful merging of the two prompts, which I think paired rather well today!

Series: Stonebreaker (Original Fiction) Characters: Sylda & Valesha Warnings: descriptions of blood, language

“Act natural. We’re being followed.”

Sylda’s spine stiffened, her shoulders rising, her grip on the leather-wrapped bundle tightening as she clutched it to her chest. “What?” she breathed. She didn’t dare speak louder than a whisper, ears straining, hairs rising on the back of her neck and arms. On either side, the walls of the buildings rose two storeys high, their crumbling stone and sun-bleached wood giving the alley a ghostly, forgotten appearance. It was unsettling at the best of times, yet alone in the middle of the night. “Val, you’d better not be messing with me. This isn’t funn--” 

Beside her, Valesha continued her ambling stroll, one hand buried in her pocket, the other swinging casually by her side. Lanky, with knife-cropped hair and a face full of sharp angles, most readily mistook her for a young man. Wandering about after dark in her loose shirt and trousers only enhanced the effect. While Valesha’s posture gave nothing away, it was the look she shot, dark but burning like hot coals, that silenced Sylda mid-sentence.

“Shut up,” Val hissed. The hand in her pocket shifted slightly, adjusting its grip on something. “Behind us. Left side.” The silver light from Anayh, the smallest but brightest moon, cut the alley at an angle, illuminating the taller woman’s head and shoulder. “Just keep walking.”

Mustering the faintest of nods, Sylda did as she was told, continuing forward, heart stammering. Her arms and legs seemed to vibrate, palms sweating as nervous energy coursed through her. The awkward bundle pressed to her chest suddenly felt uncomfortably heavy. Uncomfortably obvious, like a beacon to every thief and cut-purse looking for an easy mark.

Gods above and below, why did we have to take the alleys? 

It wasn’t their territory. The Copper Hawks owned the rooftops - everyone knew that. It made for risky travel and easy escapes, the two often balancing each other out among their less skilled members, but serving the veterans well. But some jobs didn’t lend themselves to running along ridges and leaping between eaves. This time, it was the weight of the parcel and the delicacy of its contents. One wrong step on a rooftop, and the entire job would have been for nothing. She didn’t even want to imagine Davros’ face if that happened. No, Sylda was not going back to the nest empty-handed. Not again.

Never again.

“Drop!”

Valesha’s voice was a whip, cracking through the alley. Immediately, Sylda threw herself forward, twisting mid-air to keep the satchel skyward. Her back struck the broken cobbles, a shock of pain ringing from her spine to her teeth as she clutched their prize to her chest, both arms wrapped over it like a scaly creshek guarding its egg. Inside, she felt something creak slightly, but nothing seemed to to crack of splinter. Maybe it was true what everyone said, and The Errant Queen really was watching over her.

Or maybe the goddess was just biding her time.

Even as Sylda fell, Valesha was moving. She spun, heel grinding against the ground, her hand a blur as it snapped from her pocket and sent something bright and curved whistling into the dark side of the alley. Sounds pierced the thrum in Sylda’s ears; a yelp of shock, a wet wheeze, boots scrabbling frantically over dust and stone. Valesha, now facing into the alley, already had the tip of another talon jutting from between her thumb and forefinger, arm poised for a second throw. Sylda used to fall asleep to the sound of her practicing, the thud of the curved metal biting into wood strangely comforting as she hit her mark over and over again.

This time was no exception.

As Valesha positioned herself in the center of the alley, Sylda pushed herself further towards the street, careful not to lose grip on the leather-wrapped bundle. Distance is your friend, girl. Find it. Strike from it. Flee towards it. Just past Val, two shapes were moving, one stumbling out of a side alley, the other hanging back, hesitant to follow. As one of the figures - a man with stringing black hair and a close-cropped beard - spilled into the light, he fell to his knees, hands groping at the side of his neck. Throat tight, Sylda could only watch as he tugged - once, twice, three times - the warning on her tongue unable to make it past her bloodless lips. 

Don’t. Don’t try to pull it out.

On the fourth try, he succeeded. Val’s talon ripped free, the hook halfway up its length tearing through flesh, taking a chunk of his neck with it. The silver light made the blood appear black as it sprayed then pulsed in hideous gouts from the wound. The man, panicking, tried to stem the flow, but his hands were clumsy and shaking. It was over in seconds. With a final judder, fingers straining, eyes wide with shock, he slumped to the side. Limp. Lifeless.

There was still one more.

“Last chance, little rat.” Valesha’s voice was colder than the steel at her fingertips. She had never been a warm person, but something about her, half-washed in moonlight, a corpse framed by the stance of her legs, sent a shiver across Sylda’s skin. “Run back home before I change my mind.”

The sound of footsteps fading into the distance was Sylda’s only clue that their second tail had taken Valesha’s sage advice and fled. Breathing hard, she slowly struggled to her feet as Val knelt beside the dead body, hands patting along his limbs, hunting for hidden pockets, pieces of paper, something to sell. By the time Sylda was standing again, her breathing leveling out, Valesha had returned empty-handed, a sour look pinching her narrow face. “Fucker could have at least had some sicets on him,” she muttered, then held up her bloody talon. “Look at this shit. By the time we get back, it’ll be all dried on. I’ll be stuck for hours scratching it off.”

It was a little hard to feel sympathetic, all things considered. Luckily, Val never wanted anyone’s sympathy, yet alone Sylda’s. Muttering darkly, the woman shook it once, scattering tiny droplets on the alley wall, then shoved it back in her pocket. Lovely.

As Valesha beckoned her over to check the parcel, Sylda found her eyes drifting back to the corpse. She’d thought he was an old man, at first. The way he moved seemed stilted, like the grind had set itself deep in his bones. But up close, she could see she was wrong. Lying in a pool of black, his skin was still smooth, his hands dirty and stained but unmistakably youthful. If she had to guess, she might have placed him in his mid-twenties. Certainly no more than thirty dry seasons.

And now, he was dead.

She supposed it wasn’t so bad. Most barely made it halfway before meeting similarly ugly fates.

“Sylda?” Valesha’s voice tugged her attention away from the body. She was frowning, her dark brows angled sharply down as she readjusted the bundle’s leather wrapping. “What’s the matter with you? You’re acting like you’ve never seen blood before.”

Of course she had. As much as any of the others. Probably almost as much as Val, who had been in this business from the day she could walk. But, strangely, it wasn’t the dead man that had her so unsettled.

“You let the other one go.”

Val stepped back, jaw tightening, expression closing off. “So? Got a problem with that?”

They started walking again, faster than before, not wanting to linger. Even though most of the grey coats patrolling the streets turned a blind eye to murders among thieves, it was still never a good idea to be caught with a fresh body. You never knew when one of them might actually feel like doing their job. Swallowing, Sylda hurried to keep pace, Val’s long legs leaving her scampering.

“I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Why not.”

This was dangerous territory. Sylda had to choose her next words carefully unless she wanted to be sleeping alone for a turn or two. “It’s just… you always say that if you’re going to make a kill, you’ve gotta do it once and do it right. Mercy just seems…”

Sylda trailed off, knowing she was toeing a very fine line. Luckily, Valesha seemed strangely willing to continue the thread. “It seems like taking the easy way out.”

Feeling a little sheepish, Sylda just nodded. It wasn’t that she thought mercy was weak. It as just... unusual, given who they were. What they did.

“C’mon, Sylda.” Val shook her head sharply. It was clear she was still on edge, all senses on the look-out for trouble. “Killing some idiot in a back alley? That’s the easy part. That sorry bastard didn’t stand a chance. But knowing when to let them go…” Pausing to check their surroundings, the pair exited onto the street, crossing quickly before slipping into an even narrower alley on the other side. “Mercy’s a lot harder,” Val continued, finishing her thought as they made a left, then a sharp right, losing themselves in Yelen’s tangled warren.

In a way, Sylda supposed what she said made sense. Death was just death. Letting someone live had a lot more uncertainty involved.

“I guess he might be a problem, in the future.”

Val nodded. “He could be.”

Sylda glanced across, regarding her partner for a moment. The moon was higher now, and the shadows rushed to full the hollows of Val’s cheeks, making her appear unusually gaunt.

“But you don’t think he will, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why?” She adjusted her grip on the package, arms starting to ache now that the nervous energy had worn off. “I just don’t get it. How can you know something like that?”

“I never know. I just… get a feeling, sometimes.” As their surroundings grew more and more rundown, they slipped under a section of broken wall, only a few feet between its crumbling base and the dust-covered ground. Val paused on the other side to take the bundle from Sylda, allowing her to navigate the tight space. “This one tonight? He was just a fucking kid. Couldn’t have seen more than ten or eleven dry seasons.” She shrugged and, to Sylda’s quiet dismay, passed the bundle back once she was through the gap. Turning, thrusting her hand back in her pocket, Val led the through the abandoned building’s ground floor. “I guess I just ask myself: will killing this person make my life easier? If the answer is ‘no’, then...”

She shrugged, the gesture seeming to suggest the conversation was over.

Unfortunately, Sylda had always been good at ignoring those kinds of cues.

“What if he comes looking for you?”

Val scoffed, the sound echoing around the broken building. “Then he’s an idiot and I’ll go ahead and finish him off. But I really don’t see that happening. Do you?”

If he was as young as Val claimed, Sylda supposed she had a point. Besides, the kid hadn’t exactly caused them any trouble. Gods, he didn’t even bother trying to help his companion as he bled out in the alley. Knowing the way of the streets, there probably wasn’t any kind of bond between them. Just necessity. A set of eyes to watch your back, and report back if you die. Such was the way of things.

They walked in silence for a time, both women lost in their own thoughts. Sylda’s were split between her own doubts and the ache in her arms, but Val seemed unusually troubled. Her hand shifted in her pocket rhythmically, and Sylda could imagine the motion of her fingertips as they traced the talon’s wicked edge. One wrong move, and she’d be adding her own blood to the mix. She liked to play those sorts of games; test herself in strange, unsettling ways. Inevitably, she would slip up, then spend the rest of the evening glaring sullenly at her bandaged fingers.

Nope. Not on my watch.

“Well,” Sylda said, rolling her shoulders as they finally reached the last stretch of their journey, “I guess one good thing came of letting that kid go.”

“Oh yeah?” It was nice to hear a bit of humour back in Val’s voice. Her dark brown eyes flicked across. “And what’s that?”

A playful smile spreading across her face, Sylda nudged her with an elbow. “You don’t have to spend the night scratching blood off two talons.”

Rolling her eyes, Val groaned. But she slid her hand out of her pocket, reached across, and draped her arm over Sylda’s shoulders, so she figured her tasteless comment had been worth it.

“Wow. Morbid,” Val said. Then she grinned, and immediately set Sylda’s heart into an energetic flutter. “That’s why I like you.”

#oc-tober #fictober20 #sylda #valesha #sylda valesha #prompt #sylda prompt #yelen #sylda yelen #I've been meaning to spend a bit more time fleshing out Sylda's backstory #so this feels like a good opportunity to do it! #and i actually remembered to tag properly this time unlike day 1 lol #StonebreakerSeries #sylda writing #valesha writing