#G Gun Rain

[amplexadversary]

(x)

[peachy-kun]

I've been sitting on so much G Gundam art, but I've finally gotten around to finishing some of them

It's the girl!!

[gundamfight]

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Tenth Doctor NSFW Alphabet

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

TENTH DOCTOR NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ten is the cuddliest being in the entire universe after sex. Cuddles, kisses, snuggles. He’s basically a barnacle. He adores giving you cuddles just as much as he receives them. I also feel like he’d absolutely adore nuzzling his nose against your jaw and/or neck. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite body part of his own are his teeth/hands.

His favourite body part of his partner is their eyes. One of the most important things for him in a partner is their eyes. Being able to see compassion, kindness- love in someone’s eyes. There’s nothing that makes him fall in love faster. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ten can cum a lot. Something to do with Time Lord genetics. When they mate, they mate to conceive (biologically speaking) so whenever Ten ejaculates, there can be a lot if he’s not had any for a while or if he’s been edging. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

A dirty secret of Ten’s is how much he fantasises and thinks about rubbing his cock against your clit/dick. It’s one of his favourite things, and he thinks about it way more than he should. He has- on more than one occasion, rubbed his thumb over his sonic screwdriver and thought about putting it inside you too. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ten is experienced. He’s lived for 900-odd years. He hasn’t had a plethora of partners, but he’s had enough (both longer-term and one-night) but he’s experienced enough to know what he’s doing and how to get his partner exactly where he wants them. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He’s not fancy about it, but he adores being able to look into your eyes as he brings you pleasure. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the circumstance. Generally speaking, he’s more romantic than goofy, but he also believes that if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex- they’re not the one for you. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not shaved, but he’s not unruly either. He’s neat. Trimmed. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ten’s all about the intimacy. He’s all about soft loving looks, hand-holding, and adoring caresses. He’s so romantic (most of the time) that it’s almost sickening. Even when he’s rough, he’s still romantic. Check-ins, kisses, reassuring touches and smooches. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ten tries not to jack off too much since he has you, but he’s not opposed to jacking off in the shower if you’re not in the mood. He also has a bit of a thing for you watching him jack off. There’s just something about it that gets him hot and bothered. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair-pulling. The man is OBSESSED with having his hair pulled. He’s pretty sure he could cum untouched from that. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

TARDIS console room or his bedroom are his two favourite places to do it, but he’s not picky. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Teasing touches and sultry looks will get Ten going faster than anything. A brush over his shoulders, a light pat on his bum. If he’s feeling dominant, teasing him will definitely get him going. Behaving bratty and ignorant of how your words, looks and touches impact him will definitely have him all over you as soon as possible. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Knife or gun-play. It’s not for him. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, but he enjoys receiving, too. Mostly when he’s feeling submissive.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, depends on the circumstances. If he’s feeling submissive and is receiving, he wants it loving but fast. He wants toys or cocks jackhammering into his ass. If he’s feeling dominant, he likes to make it slower and more sensual in order to tease you. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ten isn’t huge on quickies. He enjoys them, but he’d much rather be able to take his time and really enjoy the moment with you. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ten is open to experimentation, but at 900 years old, there’s not much he hasn’t done that isn’t a huge no-no for him. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ten can last about five to seven rounds before he starts to tire. That Time Lord biology does not quit. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ten likes toys. He likes to use them on his partners more than receive, but having you fuck his cock with a fleshlight? Well, lets say that did something to him that he was not expecting. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s dominant, he’s very unfair. Or he can be. It depends on how naughty you’ve been. When he’s submissive, he’s only teasing when he wants to be punished. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ten isn’t super loud, but he’s not opposed to making some noise, either. He’s louder when he’s being edged, for sure. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Ten loves to have you ride him. He adores watching you on top of him and taking charge. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s not super thick, but he is quite a bit longer than the average human. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ten’s sex drive is moderate. He’s not jonesing for it all the time, but he likes a good fuck at least two or three times a week. More if he’s really in the mood. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ten doesn’t really fall asleep very quickly after sex unless he’s gone about eight rounds. That will tire him out like nothing else. Because he doesn’t fall asleep quickly, he likes to brush your hair and lull you to sleep on his chest for a while.

[avis-writeshq]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

AHHH thank you so much for sending this <33 i hope these fics make someone as happy as i felt when writing them 🫶

01 — SPARKS FLY

summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ wc (total): 36k

02 — TRAIN RIDES

PART ONE | PART TWO

summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N). warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that wc (total): 5.2k

03 — GLUE SONG

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

04 — WHEN HE DEFENDS YOU FROM A MISOGYNIST

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily wc: 631

05 — DETENTION

pairing: damian wayne x fem!reader warnings: rated 16+ for mature themes, coarse language, and mutual pining, guns, stalking, kidnapping, s3xual assault, blood, psychopathic tendencies (not by reader or damian), arson, prayer talk wc: 6k

lots of spencer reid but also a couple of different characters :)) i hope you enjoy these because i had so much fun writing these !! thank you again @ssahotchnerr for sending this to me ahhh !!

[dilftaroooo]

Ino craves you but you always liked to tease

★tags: ino is whipped yall + sub!ino + dom!reader + afab reader + fingering + mask kink + my first time writing for ino, so pls be g-gentle with me.

Takuma does what he’s told. If he’s ordered to stand, he’ll stand. If he’s ordered to jump, he’ll jump. If he’s ordered to sit on his knees and take the only front-row seat of you fingering your drooling pussy, then the seat is already taken.

“Don’t lick or touch until I tell you to.” Your tone refrains him from even thinking about stubbornly rebelling against you. There’s a hindrance in your blunt demeanor with each weak point you hit with languid digits, but it’s there regardless, still a looming overcast that darkens his view from brilliant sun rays. It rains ever so slightly but when it pours, he makes sure to cherish the wet taps draping across his skin.

He’s weak in this state, enough to mumble out a puny ‘yes ma’am’ that's barely a pitch louder than the sloshing of bodily wetness. You’re loud. And you’re dirtying the couch; it was a hand-me-down but his nostalgic memories are still engraved in that ragged cushion. That doesn’t make him no never mind though.

Consider it pleasurable torture because the growth between his legs ache with a sense of carnal urge, wanting to be freed from the confinements of fabric and kissed by weeping lips of sin to wash that disgruntled pain away. 

But that pain only grows as you continue to flick, probe, and pinch at every delicate inch of fragile skin while coffee brown hues gaze up in delight, dare he say, honored to witness a beauty as enticing as you. The fat around your thighs and tummy seems grabbable and the erect nubs on your chest begged to be sucked.

Saucers widen to plates as Takuma’s astonished eyes feed off of the display in front of him. He’s internally waiting for your word, your order to wrap his hungry lips around your hard clitoris and lap greedily along the path of your labia.

He’s ready to feel your fingers grip the roots of his locks once he graces you in eager swipes and rattles you with grunts that ring through your heated body, keens oozing from your lips like warm chocolate drizzling onto his awaiting tongue–he’s drooling like a wet dog. Perhaps from both your juicy cunt and that blatant chocolate simile.

With a look so desperate, you must’ve picked up his heavy pants because they were starting to sound pathetic to you.

“Taste me.” And with those words, Takuma could’ve sworn he heard an angel coo against the shell of his ear, he guesses those hushed prayers of you really have been heard!

He crawls tentatively like a newborn kitten, unsure of the world they’ve been born into. He wet his lips, not that it was needed since he’d been salivating this whole session, but call it a force of habit. 

If he couldn’t smell you before then he could now with how the tip of his nose traced the wisp of your pubic hairs that remained unshaven save from the light wax you’ve gotten on your bikini line. The soft scent of sweat provoked a moan from him and he couldn’t help but swoon over how his tongue would pick up each salty bead with shameless content. And he was close to doing so until-

“Stop.” Takuma halts. He believes he’s in the wrong for how your sternness cuts through the sexual tension in the room. “Clearly you’re forgetting something, lover boy.” It takes him a beat to recognize what it is until his eyes land on the black cotton of his mask, almost lying purposely beside you.

Upon putting it on, you hum in delight and spread your legs further. Takuma delves in. Though with the mask acting as a cruel barrier from the treasure he initially seeks, he remains happy to find that he can taste you on his tongue. Your cunt is savory and delectable that he seemingly can’t make any comparisons to anything he’s ever tried. It’s enough to make him want to shrivel into a heap of nothingness, enough to make him fight against an army of guns with the aid of a sword.

A sword that's dull and pertains no prowess but he’d be willing to take that slim chance at victory just for the sake of you.

You bring him to the lowest point of desire and yearning that even sucking your pussy through cotton fabric was enough for him to squirm.

He looks up at his obsession with love-stricken eyes. Eyes that say that he will love you and your pussy forever. And with you singing out to him like a whimsical canary, he’d make sure that his love is what he gives you until the day he’s deemed dead.

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter three

close to home | chapter three

plot: When Daryl decides to trust the reader, they embark on a journey to safety, despite the distance it puts between him and his group. Still, he's not quite sure if he can trust her.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,895 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

“There’s too many of them! We have to run; we can’t fight them off.” You yelled, holding tightly onto Tora. The rain was still a downpour, and you could hardly see ten feet before you. 

The stranger shot another dead one and pulled the arrow from its skull. “Keep runnin’! You know somewhere safe?”

“There’s a lake! Just another mile! It’s too big for the dead ones to cross, but we can swim it. My safehouse isn’t far from there; we can make it.” You yelled, firing your gun at a dead one. It clicked empty when you tried to fire again. “I’m out!”

The stranger nodded at you, “Then we better run fast!”

Lightning cracked across the sky, and the loud booming of thunder followed. You would be cold to the bone without the adrenaline coursing through your body. Even Tora was shaking in your arms. 

The last mile was a stretch of eternity, and you didn’t realize you hit the water until you were calf deep. You dropped Tora, and she started swimming. You trusted her senses. She could find her way home from there. 

“Let’s go!” You yelled, “We’ll lose them on the other side.”

You didn’t wait for the stranger before you started swimming. The water was even colder than it was this morning, you were physically exhausted, and everything was weighing you down. Your boots, your clothes, and your bag. It was like trying to swim carrying a fifty-pound weight. 

“You ‘aight?” 

Water splashed as you pushed yourself further, ignoring the stranger’s comment and focusing on the other side of the lake. It was another fifteen yards, and you could barely see Tora on the shore bank and then dart into the woods beyond. 

You closed your eyes for a brief second as thunder clapped again. “We have to get out of the water as quickly as possible,” You yelled. “If lightning strikes….”

“Don’ think abou’ it,” He shouted ahead of you. 

The last few yards were excruciating, and you felt like passing out when you pulled yourself up onto the muddy, overflooded lake shore. You took a deep breath before moving to sit on your knees, the bag nearly pulling you backward. 

“Leave the bag. We can come back in the mornin’ for it,” The stranger yelled. 

You looked behind you and watched as dozens of dead ones followed you into the lake, only to submerge and not resurface. Tears pricked at your eyes; your water source was gone. You felt like sobbing, throwing everything in a tantrum, and putting a bullet through your brain. 

“Come on, (Y/N),” The man said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. “We gotta get out of here.”

The thunder echoed, and you dropped the bag by a nearby bush. “Four more miles, let’s go.” 

The rain didn’t let up the entire time, and it took twice as long to run the distance than it should have. The thunder seemed to wake every damn dead one in the area, and the woods were crawling with them. A deep nauseousness settled in your stomach at your decision to let Tora get back to the safehouse on her own. You didn’t know there were this many in the woods. It’s been relatively safe. 

When the safehouse came into view, you could only pray that Tora was up there, grooming herself and demanding dinner. 

“Up here,” You yelled over the rain. The rope was soaked through, but it would hold. 

“Walkers!” The man yelled, and you paused, looking around. At least another dozen were closing in. “Go, go, I’m right behind ya!” 

The authoritative tone was enough to send you climbing, and your muscles stretched and pulled with each movement up the robe. Your abs ached, and your pruned fingers hurt with each grip. The rope swung suddenly, and you looked down to see the stranger climbing up just as a dead one grabbed his leg. 

“Here!” You yelled, grabbing your machete and reaching it out to him.

“Climb!” 

You didn’t need to be told another time, and you climbed. Every inch was a mountain; when your hand smacked down on the wet wood twenty feet up, you wanted to cry joyfully. But you didn’t have time to, as the stranger was behind you. You pulled yourself over the edge and turned back, reaching your hands to help pull him up. 

“Didn’ tell me your damn safe house was in a tree!” The man yelled. 

“Just be thankful we’re up here and not there,” You looked down at the walkers crowding around the trees. Thank God they were thick enough. 

You didn’t wait another second before going into the dark cabin. The wind was blowing through the open windows, and you shivered. “Tora, Tora,” You called over the rain. 

Something brushed against your legs, and you choked out a sob when you felt the matted fur of your best friend. You grabbed the giant cat, holding her tightly while spilling tears. “Oh, thank God, I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know.” You cried. 

Tora squirmed her way down, meowing loudly and showing how displeased she was. You wiped your eyes with the clean parts of your arm before you turned back towards the stranger standing by the door with his crossbow raised. 

“Really? I bring you back here, and you wanna kill me? After all that?” You said. 

“Just makin’ sure you don’ do anythin’ stupid,” He said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. “Well, I wanna build a fire if that’s okay with you.”

The man didn’t say anything as he slowly lowered the weapon and stepped into the room. You ignored his movements and went to the fireplace. The logs on there were wet but there wasn’t much rain coming through the chimney. It didn’t take you long before you got a small fire going and the room brightened up. 

You looked at the man, finally seeing his face for the first time. His hair was soaked to his skin. There was dirt and blood caked on. He was soaked. You were soaked. 

“I have some clothes you can change into. They were my fiance's.” You said and stood up. The treehouse was one big square room, with each section laid out to your liking. 

One corner was a bedroom with a slim mattress that took an entire day to bring back; a few baskets of clothes and your weaponry were also there. The other corner was where you had a makeshift kitchen, where your diminishing food and medical supplies were gathered. And lastly, the bigger section was around the fireplace, where a small wooden table and chairs sat. They were child-sized and came with the place. 

Blankets were makeshift curtains, and you pinned them down to keep out the rain. It didn’t matter. They were soaked anyway. 

“You really by yourself?” The man asked. 

“Yeah, since nearly the beginning.” You said. You grabbed a few clothes and walked back over to the man. “Here. They should fit you.”

The man looked at your outstretched hand for a moment, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. “Your fiance. After?”

You nodded and stepped away once he took the clothes, not wanting to discuss it. Your heart tugged at the memory of Liam. His ashy hair, the deep set brown eyes that were once home. Every good memory you had of him was spoiled by your last. The way he screamed when his body was torn to shreds. 

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you grabbed a change of clothes. You didn’t spare the stranger a glance as you quickly and carefully changed out of your wet clothes. You changed your shirt first. The bigger shirt hid the bottom parts of your body while you changed your pants. You didn’t really care if he saw you change anyway. There was nothing to see anymore except scares and a starving body. 

You waited with your back turned for a few more moments before turning around just as he kicked his wet clothes aside. Liam’s clothes fit him well if a bit on the larger size. But the two of you were dry, and that was precisely what you needed. 

“I have some food. It’s not much. And my water was in my bag, so we’ll have to collect the rainwater.” You said, grabbing a few old metal water bottles and holding them out to him. “Can you?”

The two of you worked quietly. Him setting up the bottles, and you pulled out dried meats and a few cans. It wasn’t much, but it was better than anything. 

“Tora is good for hunting. She collects squirrels, rats, mice, and birds. Rabbits sometimes too.” You said, sitting down by the fire to warm the canned food. “But I don’t have anything left. I dropped the few squirrels I had.”

The man said nothing but sat down a few feet away from her. After a moment, “That’s the biggest damn cat I ever seen,”

You laughed, which surprised you after the day you had, and you looked at the cat. “She’s a Maine Coon, pure breed too, and on the bigger side for the breed.”

“You have her before?”

You nodded, “Yeah. She was a gift. I was an animal trainer while I put myself through med school. Before all this...” You said absentmindedly. “I’d always wanted one, and when I finally got her, I trained her like a small dog. She’s pretty damn smart.”

“Friendly?”

“Oh, yeah. She loves people. Luckily she can tell the difference. I think it’s the smell. Same way dogs do I guess…”

“How’d you teach her to stay around you and all that? Not to take off?”

You looked at the man, “You’ve got a lot questions for someone who��s pointed that crossbow at me twice tonight, despite me saving your life.”

He gruffed, “I don’ remember it that way,”

The cans were warm now, and you handed the man a soup can and a few bits of dried meat. “I didn’t teach her that. She stays with me 'cause she chose me.” 

He hummed as he ate. “More of a dog person,”

“Yeah, I figured,”

“How so?”

You shrugged and leaned against the thin leg of the table. “You can just tell who’s a cat person and who’s a dog person,”

Thunder clapped above you two, and you looked at the ceiling momentarily. Luckily it wasn’t leaking. The repairs Liam had done were holding on. 

“So your people. You wanna tell me about them?” You asked. 

He shook his head and kept eating. 

“That’s fair…” You mumbled, crossing your legs. You threw a few pieces of dried meat toward Tora, and she sniffed them before eating. “I wouldn’t wanna tell a stranger my story either. Can I know your name, then?”

You could see his hesitation for a second, but finally, he must’ve decided that his name wasn’t too much information to give away. “Daryl.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daryl.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Alright hear me out.. Jonggun x a big deal member reader.. 🫣 like, both of us hating each other to guts, but somehow an odd feeling causes us to desire to spend time with each other etc while not even knowing the reason, and once gun feels close enough to us to inform us about his Yakuza clan and his whole shiro oni side, it turns out we were actually gun's childhood friend back then 🤭

Anon. You'll be the death of me. Apologies for the delayed response as usual! I started this today with a small idea. Came back to it tonight and 2k words later, it's now nearly 2am. I... I think I really like this. Let's sleep on it anyway. Hope it hits the spot and thanks for requesting!

Gun Park x Big Deal!Reader: Yamazaki Yuzuru

G/N. Enemies to lovers. (...Childhood friends turned enemies to lovers).

Cynics would say you sold your body in a different way, although you hate to think about it like that. You suppose that it may seem so for someone on the outside looking in.

Big Deal is famous for its passion, its romance. You never thought it applied to you. Not like it did to others.

.

.

The first time you meet on Big Deal street, Gun studies you. Gaze hidden under his sunglasses, curiosity piqued as he wonders who you are.

A sea of gangsters but your face sticks out like a sore thumb. Familiar. Like a distant memory just out of reach, like trying to recall a dream.

Notices your scar-littered knuckles faded silver with time. Hardly unusual for gang members yet Gun still peers down at his own hands.

They're similar. Almost matching. A pair.

Ever watchful eyes burn into the side of your head.

When you turn in his direction, you know for certain he is only looking at you.

Age old scars start to itch. Absentmindedly, you scratch at your hands.

.

.

Gun asks for your name during your second meeting.

"Who are you?"

Jake Kim frowns, searches your face for a reason why he would be asking you. Why he would be taking an interest.

You give your boss an imperceptible shrug.

"None of your business," is all you offer. Clipped. Brusque. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for Big Deal by outright ignoring him.

What you mean to spit is fuck you.

What you mean to scream is I want to kill you with my bare hands.

You don't look at him today.

"Oh, this one is feisty," Goo Kim steps forward, duffle bag of cash in hand and eyes roving over you with approval.

Trouble still finds you.

Jaw clenching, hands scrunching into fists; Jake ready to defend his crew-

Gun beats him to the punch.

"Let's go. The money is all there."

His blonde associate throws him an odd look. Nevertheless, they still leave. You're not sure if you've ever seen anything better than their retreating backs.

Big Deal survives for another day.

.

.

Your luck runs out on your third meeting.

Gun finds you when you're miles from Big Deal and alone. When the rain drenches the earth and the air suffocates. When instead of water bringing life, it brings an omen.

This time you have no choice but to look at him, glaring into his pitch-black eyes. Fear eclipsed by loathing as he holds his umbrella over you, downpour providing a shroud and shielding the two of you from the world.

A strange game of silence starts, neither of you wanting to speak first.

Minutes tick by. The feeling of hatred is tiring to keep up. Holding onto the anger at the surface drains you. Infinitesimally your gaze starts to soften until Gun's curiosity is mirrored in yours.

To your surprise, he cracks first.

He tells you he recognises the vitriol in your voice from last time, no matter how much you thought you had successfully veiled it.

(A tiny smirk, almost fond, graces his features as he is reminded of your animosity.)

Offers you a chance, an escape line, a tantalising small glimmer of hope for Big Deal to leave the four crews.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, he proposes, "You can have your freedom if you can kill me."

Oh?

The odds are not in your favour. You agree anyway.

.

.

You manage to land a hit on his left arm, even as he turns and deflects most of the damage with a roll of his shoulder.

Had it been successful, it would have left it limp and hanging. Unfortunately, Gun only seem inconvenienced at best.

Your next attack manages to break the skin on his cheek. You miss your mark, wanting to gouge out his eyes instead.

Still, seeing the trickle of blood pleases you.

Gun Park takes no prisoners. Aims to incapacitate at the best of times, if not to maim or kill.

The thrill and adrenaline surges once he notices the cut. Feels the blood rushing to the surface and it already swelling.

He lunges after you, launching an open hand strike straight for your chest.

Throwing up both arms just in time, you manage to negate most of the intensity of his hit. Even still, you are flung to the other side of the street and hard into the ground.

Death would have been on the cards if not for your quick thinking.

When Gun sees the crimson falling from your lips, you spluttering and winded, choking on your own blood and body barely able to move-

All he can think about is how intriguing it is that you are still breathing. How peculiar that you managed to defend yourself, like you had foreseen his move. How mesmerising that particular shade of red.

Gun doesn't kill you today.

He tells you you have failed and leaves you to wallow in your own humiliation. You watch his figure growing smaller into the distance and find no joy in this retreat.

Blood and sweat mingles with the rain, cold seeps into your bones. When you think all hope is lost-

You catch a glimpse of maroon beneath your nails. Even as your body lies broken and beaten, you think of how you have managed to spill droplets of Gun Park's own blood.

It's a pleasant thought.

.

.

The fourth time he asks again for your name.

You wonder how he manages to find you once more during heavy showers.

As if he is only able to venture out during storms, like a worm awakened with the pitter patter of raindrops and slithering out of wet soil.

Fitting.

Amused both at this and the audacity of his question, you chuckle at his tenacity. The action causes you to wince. Body still recovering, a result of your fight from last time.

Gun takes a step forward and you flinch away immediately. Worsening your injury, grimacing and groaning as black spots appear in your vision.

"Stop," he orders and you are tempted to do it again just to defy him. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. I'll ask you for the final time, what is your name?"

In no fit state to fight, loss inevitable even if you were, you finally give it up.

You tell him through gritted teeth and a seed is planted in his mind.

"And you know mine."

"Gun Park."

He loves the fury in your voice. He wants to hear you say it again.

.

.

Gun slams you into a wall during the fifth time. Pins your arms above your head as you thrash against his hold.

Desperately trying to regain your footing, regain your strength as he has once again bested you.

He leans into your ear, voice taunting and infuriating. "Y/N." Relishes the way your name sounds, "You've failed again."

You whip your head around, ready to do something, anything. Bile in your throat and venom on the tip of your tongue-

His face is centimetres away from yours, breath hot and your skin prickles.

Own breath hitching as he drops his eyes to your lips. Desire and hunger plain on his face.

He doesn't lean forward and you wish he did.

He lets you go and you wish he didn't.

You hate yourself for it.

.

.

Sleep becomes difficult. You lie awake at night and think about him. Replay the scene in your head.

Your self hatred builds.

.

.

Thoughts of what-ifs tiptoe through your mind during the day. Conjures up scenarios of what if Gun Park actually did brush his lips against yours.

You hate yourself more than you hate him.

.

.

Like a self fulfilling prophecy, it happens during the sixth meeting.

All fight dissipates from you as your traitorous mind wanders and strays.

Gun Park catches your fist. He doesn't shove you away. Sees your pupils blown huge with lust and slams your body into his instead.

Your lips crash together, all teeth and snarls. It is both everything and nothing like you had imagined.

The umbrella lies forgotten on the ground as he rams you up against a wall in a forgotten alleyway.

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes into you.

.

.

Meetings end in a stalemate.

.

.

Meetings end in more sordid alleyways. A quick and dirty sprint to the finish line.

.

.

In backseats, cramped and rushed and hot. Leather sticking to sweat slick skin, windows fogging up with steam.

.

.

In hotel rooms and tangled sheets.

.

.

In walks of shame at 3am.

.

.

In showers, exploring each other's bodies.

.

.

In baths with your back against his chest.

.

.

In his bed and waking up together in the morning.

.

.

You don't act differently when Gun Park and Goo Kim come to collect their dues.

But the bruises left by his fingers under your Big Deal uniform pulses and throbs.

You still hate yourself but you hate Gun less.

Seeing him reminds you of the way he moans your name. The additional scars you've scratched into his back. The way his hips rock against yours.

(When it's just you two, you can't bring yourself to hate him at all.)

You stay still and silent as Goo counts the bills.

Under his sunglasses, Gun always observes you.

.

.

"Where did you get these scars?"

Gun traces over your knuckles. Touch gentle and tentative. A far cry from your first contact.

Truthfully you can hardly even remember. It was another life. In the land of the rising sun, when you saw the world through childhood innocence.

You piece together what you can.

"I used to spar when I was younger. With another boy that was on my street..."

Eyes affecting a far off look, reliving what you can of your memory.

Snapshots of a small stature, below average for his age but lightning fast reflexes and a terrifying strength.

You were never a match for him. Not really. But he still insisted on seeing you everyday.

Training together. Developing a language of your own through punches and kicks.

Above all, you fought. But that small quiet boy, who talked infrequently, whose bite was just as bad as his bark gave you the first taste of something real.

"You lost more than you won." Gun's voice cuts through. You thought they were teasing words but- "Cried when he beat you and he would bribe you to shut up. Spent three summers together getting stronger until he had to leave."

Gun holds his own scarred hand up.

You remember the scar the boy got when you kicked him into the ground, how you bandaged it afterwards. Unravelling as soon as you wrapped it, handiwork sloppy and inexperienced.

The scars when you both would practice your punches, strengthening tendons wherever you could. On whatever surfaces available.

And one scar in particular: when you bit down hard on his hand after a particularly gruelling fight and refused to give him the victory.

How have you missed this? How has the string of fate managed to stretch across land and oceans and borders and years?

The fog lifts and the name slams into your mind.

"Yuzuru."

Gun kisses you, hand cupping the back of your head and other curling around your waist. Whispers your own name against your lips. The one you were born with. The one he used to call you.

A name you haven't heard in years, but he never forgot.

"Say my name again." His voice is rough, choked.

"Yamazaki Yuzuru."

He kisses you more fiercely than ever before.

The first meeting wasn’t on Big Deal street. It wasn't even in South Korea.

.

.

You didn't sell your body.

The Big Deal passion and romance flares within you. It just always belonged to someone else.

[circe69]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

narrative: you get kidnapped by graves, and ghost rescues you (in a very aggressive/sweet manner) part 1 warnings: mentions of kidnapping, injuries, blood, gunshots/guns tags: ghost bringing you coffee, being in tight spaces with him, sweet flirting/shameless flirting, talk of late-night meetings.

a/n: I have this idea of this version of Ghost being younger, maybe early 20's, having just entered the military. I like to think that before he became a "super killer", all he wanted to do was protect and save. And when you came along, I think he saw it as an opportunity to finally save someone who really needed him. In the comics, Ghost lost everything and everyone he ever had, and I like to think he'd find it worth his while to try and save someone again. Just one last time.

🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

You woke up that morning, drenched in sweat and tears soaking your striped pillow. It wasn't the best circumstances, waking up from a nightmare in a room you don't recognize. The weather wasn't helping either, dark storm clouds only a few hundred feet above you and rain causing a visible downpour outside your window.

You dreamt that Graves hadn't let you go, as if your brain was giving you the second option of "what if Ghost hadn't rescued you?" and gave it to you in full, gory detail. Every ounce of you felt disgusting, dirty.

Reaching out to touch your face, you pulled it back and smiled slightly at the lack of blood. Either it had dried up, or the tears washed it for you, flooding away all the revolting liquid that you wished wasn't there at all.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Turning the knob to enter your small room again, you opened the door and your jaw dropped at the sight before you.

Ghost.

Was sitting on your bed.

"What are you doing in here?" You screeched, crossing your arms over your shoulders in attempt to hide your bare chest.

He jumped up from where he sat on your bed, "I was waiting for you." His tone was quiet, not as stressed as you were. You were slightly thankful for it, the balance between the two of you was perfect, even if you'd never admit it to anyone else.

"Yeah well, I was in the shower."

His mouth stretched into a smile, showing his whitened teeth against his dark pink lips. "I know."

You felt your cheeks flush, and even though the statement should've caused you to tense more, you felt your shoulders relax and slowly drop from the cross they were in, your arms now resting on either side of you.

"Oh."

He sat back down on the bed, reading your face that was now comfortable and not as scrunched up as it was seconds before. One leg crossed over the other knee, and his hands folded together on his lap, fiddling with the small metal bracelet underneath his gloved wrist.

"How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay? Sometimes the AC-"

You interrupted his rambling, "I slept fine. Great actually." Even if it was a lie, in some way, you really did sleep better than you had in a while, feeling safe being underneath the same roof as Ghost. As crazy as it sounded, and maybe if you didn't even realize it yet, he was something you'd longed for, and had for quite a while. Just someone to stand behind, someone to watch first instead of doing everything yourself.

"You look great," he paused to clear his throat, "Better, I mean, then last night."

You smiled at his awkwardness. You could tell small talk wasn't his forte, but it made it better. More genuine, you thought.

"Thanks."

It wasn't until now that you realized you were still standing, dripping wet in a towel, with Ghost staring at you, and you staring back. It wasn't seductive, nothing in his dark brown eyes alluded to anything else except for "I'm glad you're okay."

"Well, I need to," you waved a hand at your towel-clad body, signaling you needed to get dressed. Ghost nodded, clearing his throat once more to clear the silence. "Right, well, your coffee is on the table in the break room. I'll be waiting in there for you when you're done." He made a fist and held it out to you. A fist bump?

You chuckled at his poor demonstration of the gesture, but secretly loved it. He might've been raised by wolves, you were sort of convinced he was, but the fact that he was trying was enough for you to want to do anything for him.

You bumped his fist back, trying to make yourself seem more enthusiastic than you really were, in some way you thought the act in and of itself was Ghost trying to do the same thing. It made things less scary than they were, and even though you were stuck in a nightmare last night, you wouldn't have wanted to be woken up to anything, or anybody, else.

🕊️ ┈┈┈┈ 🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

After getting dressed in clean, fresh clothes, that somehow smelled like Ghost, you made your way to the break room to grab your morning drink and hopefully get some answers about what you were even doing here.

To your surprise, everyone in the Task Force seemed extremely kind, so kind, in fact, that you thought something must be on your teeth or dirt on your clothes, and they're trying to make you feel better out of pity. But maybe that's just how they all are. Killers by night but sweethearts in the day.

You walked into the break room, the door squeaking upon entrance, and met face to chest with an extremely tall man. Looking up, you felt like you almost broke your neck just trying to make eye contact.

"Y/N, that's König, our best sniper," you heard Ghost get up from his seat and make his way over to you and the hooded beast standing in front of you.

"He's a bit shy, but he means good." Ghost said while patting König on his back, making him jump slightly. "Hello," you tried to say, making as small talk as possible. Not that you were scared, per say, but you wouldn't ever want to get on his bad side.

As König made his way past you and out of the break room, Ghost handed you a cup of hot coffee. "How did it stay hot this whole time?" You spoke, taking a long sip and closing your eyes at the warmth.

"Heated it up over the stove," he stopped to drink his, "It's better that way."

You pursed your lips together, humming in curiosity. "Hey, um, I had a few questions for you, or maybe someone else."

Ghost's eyebrows shot up through his mask, and he turned to lead you to a small, round table. "Ask away."

Clearing your throat, you were slightly nervous. This wasn't a parent-teacher conference, or a job interview. You were about to ask questions regarding the military, regarding your father. It was a big deal.

"Well, I remember you mentioning that Price, your captain, told you that my father put him up to the job of finding me," you began, rubbing a finger on the cold table.

"Yes, that's correct." Ghost said assertively. He was serious when it came to business matters, or maybe he was just serious when it came to you.

You scooted in, nervously placing your hands underneath your thighs. "Well, the strange thing is, I haven't spoken to my father in ye-"

All the sudden, the lights flicked off, and there were multiple gunshots from outside the break room.

"Y/N, get down." His voice was deep, quiet so that only you could hear it. You dove underneath the table, wrapping one of your hands around the leg. Ghosts' gun cocked as he walked up to the door stealthily. He opened it on his brain's command, perfect timing, always. Watching him walk out was like watching someone walk into a burning house. There was fire everywhere, bullets flying across the width of the door, passing him by just an inch every time.

"Ghost!" You screamed, making him turn around immediately. He walked in, shut the door, and threw the table off of you, picking you up into his arms. Just like he carried you to your room the night before, he ran you into the nearest closet and pressed you against the wall. You felt brooms and brushes poking your back, and they dug deeper as Ghost entered the small closet, closing the door behind him and caging himself around you, hands on both sides of your head.

He tore off his mask and slid it on your face, as a way to conceal you better. The smell of him was all you could think about, it surrounded every inch of you. "Please stay quiet." He whispered right next to your ear, making you involuntarily shiver. You nodded, and the only reason you could do that instead of responding with words was because he was so close, he could feel you nodding against his body.

He stayed like that, hovering only a few centimeters above you, chest flat against yours, until the gunshots stopped. What confused you the most was that he stayed with you, he didn't go out to kill all of the people who were trying to kill him. He was protecting you, back faced to the door, ready to give up his life for you.

You looked up into his eyes, and waited until he looked down into yours. They were careful, maybe scared, trying to find something to calm him down. Searching for something in yours to tell him that you're still here, and you're okay.

"I think it's safe to go out, Ghost." You whispered, scared to speak any louder. Not because of safety reasons, but because your personal bodyguard looked like anything above a whisper would make his head explode.

He removed his hands from the wall behind you, but gently put them back after a second and looked you in the eyes. "About your father, I know what you were about to say. And I know, you haven't seen him in years and it's impossible that he would even know where you are, s how-"

"Wait, so you knew about all of this?" You interrupted, slightly pushing Ghost away with a hand on his chest.

"Yes- well, it was a theory."

You weren't sure how to feel. If he had known, why wasn't he fixing it? Was he talking to people? Making sure you were safe?

"Well? Did you find anything out? Is it really just a theory or do you have information?" You crossed your arms across your chest, and popped a hip out, accidently landing a foot directly on top of his.

He smiled, "Easy, tiger," he kicked your foot off of his playfully and placed a boot on your sneaker. "I'm working on it."

"What does 'working on it' mean?" You pursed your lips together and raised your eyebrows, waiting for his response.

His hands left he wall for good, and he started to walk out when you realized the entire troop was out in the break room, congregating around a table and pointing at a digital map. You pulled Ghost back inside by his wrist, "What are you doing! They're gonna think we were up to something!"

He picked you up again while you were still mid-protest and kicked open the closet door, carrying you bridal-style into the break room.

"Well, well, well. Congratulations to the happy couple!" A Scottish man spoke, and you recognized him as the reckless driver from the night before. Soap, was it?

"Thank you, thank you, we're going to Hawaii for our honeymoon actually," Ghost said as he didn't even stop to talk to the rest of his team, and you slapped his chest for his comment. A few of the guys laughed, some just stared and smiled. As Ghost carried you out of the room, he set you down gently a few feet outside of the door into the main hallway of the base.

"Meet me in my room later tonight, say around, 10?"

You gasped, putting a hand over his mouth and looking around to make sure no one heard him. "Are you insane? Why in the world would I do that?" Your words indicated that you were fed up with everything about this man, but the smile on your face said otherwise. You were excited, exhilarated at the thought of sneaking out. You felt like a teenager again, like a little kid "escaping" from your mother when you see an old friend from across the grocery store.

"You want information, don't ya?" He said slyly. His British accent was always strong, but the Manchester in him really came out when he was shamelessly flirting with you.

You clicked your tongue a few times, "That's true, I suppose."

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you at 10 PM tonight." Ghost started to walk away, towards a meeting or a training session, you were sure.

"Isn't that awfully late?" You yelled to his back, taking a few small steps after him.

"You'd be there 'till around that time anyway, wouldn't ya?" He said from over his shoulder, and your cheeks flushed with hot fire. Your mouth opened, but you found no response to the statement that you knew was absolutely true.

🕊️┈┈┈┈🕊️┈┈┈┈ 🕊️

taglist! - @hauntingtherosebush @bunkvo @lialacleaf @lainphotography @ryunniez @mildlyhopeless

[abbyromanoff]

ok so it’s dark! gp nat x dark!reader both avengers and they kill someone on the team lol. they just laugh about it and kiss as they look at the dead body. nat always gets so turned on after they kill people so she just has her way with reader right there

Poor old Steve

Pairings: dark!g!p Natasha Romanoff x dark!reader

Summary: getting tired of seeing her ex friend flirt with you she takes matters into her own hands, but not without the help of her lovely fiancé.

Word count: 2,305k

Warnings: Dark fic, dark!Nat, dark!reader, killing, description of torture, knives and guns mentioned, smut, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, fucking against a wall, the words dead man used a lot

If you’re not comfortable with dark fics that involve torture, killing, and sex next to a dead body please do not read!!

No one is permitted to copy, steal, or reblog my fic as their own!!

—

Nat watches from afar as Steve flirted with you, even if he knew the two of you were engaged he always took his chances. She got sick of just watching and went up to the two of you wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“Steve, I see you’re still trying to talk up my fiancé.”

“And I see you’re still as overprotective as always.” He shoots back. The two used to be friends but when the two of them both liked you it was destined to end. Steve was still upset about the fact that she got you first and tried taking you away from her, even after telling him multiple times you’re only into women. Nat clenched her jaw as she was about to argue back only to be dragged away by you. You led her to your shared room and sat her down on the bed.

“What was that for? I already had everything I was going to say planned out, now he thinks he won.” She said with a hit of anger, she wasn’t mad at you but at Steve. How dare he continue to flirt with you and make you uncomfortable after you’ve already said no.

“Nat relax, if you continued you know he would’ve just ended up in the basement like everyone else.” It was true, every time she saw someone flirt with you they’d end up dead by the end of the week. It’s not like you were complaining, you liked that possessiveness she held over you but if she continued the cops would definitely be onto her. On multiple occasions the cops have knocked on your door asking if you’ve seen this person, even if you knew the two of you killed them last night you apologized and said you haven’t. You’ve had to move multiple times due to the cops coming too close to catching you both. At the moment you had a home downtown but had to stay at the compound for a bit due to mission and work.

“And is that such a bad thing?” “Of course not, but I’ve told you this multiple times, you have to wait a bit before you kill again.” You explained to the redhead. You knew she hated being wrong especially admitting that she is but it’s different with you.

“You’re right I know. It’s just hard when everyone wants to take what’s mine.” You smiled at her jealousy over you. That night was spent passionately fucking one another while she tried to get you as loud as you could so she could prove to Steve that you’re hers.

When you woke up you were greeted with little kisses out along your face. You giggled and tried to push her away which only resulted in her on top of you and kissing your neck as well. You both knew you had to get up eventually so you did, getting ready and packing up your things to head home. Saying goodbye to everyone you both left, getting into her car and driving off. When you returned home you told Nat you were going food shopping and that you’ll be back. While you were gone Nat took out her tools in the basement and cleaned them, getting them prepared for her next victim. Walking out in the rain she opened up the trunk and dragged the unconscious man into the lower floor. Sitting him down in a chair she tied him up all around to make sure he couldn’t get out, usually she wouldn’t spend as much time on this part but he had super strength so she had to be careful. She waited and waited until he finally woke up and looked around, seeing his scared face made her smile.

“I told you time and time again Steve, don’t touch my fiancé. And what did you do? You still flirted and touched up on her when she clearly didn’t want you to.” She was growing angrier the more she spoke, thinking about all the times he flirted with you. Hearing the door open and a ‘Babe I’m home’ Steve thought that you’d come to save him, he didn’t realize you were just as psychotic as Nat.

Nat yelled back up to you “Down here!” And the blonde man only grew more confused. Why would she tell you where she was if he’s right here tied up?

Putting the bags down you went downstairs to see what Nat was doing, not realizing that she earlier had drugged the man and put him in the back of your car. When you opened the door and saw Steve sitting there you just let out a small sigh and looked towards Nat.

“I thought I told you to wait till our next kill. And you could’ve at least told me, I would’ve helped.” You saw realization set on Steve’s face, you were a killer just like Nat.

She brought you to her by your hips and held you close, “I know but I couldn’t wait, plus I saved the best part for the both of us.” You couldn’t be mad at her. Your cute moment was ruined by the victim tossing and turning in his chair, trying his best to get out. You both looked over and shared a laugh at his attempts, admiring the way your fiancé tied him up so well that he couldn’t escape. Walking over to the man you grabbed a weapon of your choosing and spun it around in your hands. He was clearly trying to say something under his gag so you removed it and let him say what was on his mind. He breathed in as much air as he could, being limited to it before.

“Y/N, you’re not like this I know it! Whatever Nat did to make you do this can be fixed-“ Nat wouldn’t let him continue as she harshly put the rag back in his mouth, not wanting to hear the rest of what he was going to say. It was true though, before you and Nat dated you could’ve never imagined hurting a person. But once you saw Nat killing a man without any remorse you were fascinated. Instead of fearing the woman you asked her to teach you some of her own skills and you both went to work. It was more of a stress reliever to you, getting to take out your frustration on someone was relaxing. Nat adored watching you kill, it turned her on to the max. The first time you did your own solo kill she video taped it and still watches it over to this day. Watching the way you handle them so aggressively made her want to take you then and there.

“Sweetheart, would you like to take care of this one?” She asked as she put her hands on your hips from behind. You turned your head slightly to face her and answered her question.

“I think it’s best if we both do, I know how much you hate him and I want to get back at him for being so mean to you.” You gave a small pout when mentioning the man’s rudeness to Nat. She nodded in agreement and grabbed one of her tools as well, deciding between a knife, gun or wrench. She saw the knife in your hands and decided on using the gun. Walking back over to where you stood she muttered into your ear “Shall we get started?”

The next hour was spent torturing the man. Nat first shot him in the knee as you left little cuts and stab wounds all over his body. He was crying in agony as you both occasionally danced and laughed over his pain. At one point you even stopped to slow dance a bit while listening to his screams as a source of music. Once you two had your fun you both held the trigger and shot him in the head, finally killing him. Nat had made him watch as she made out with you right before ending his life and continuing even after he was gone. Lifting you up onto the table holding the weapons she still held your lips on her own. Her tongue licked at your lips asking to be let in, which you granted her. She snuck her hands into your pants as she played with the lace on your underwear, begging to just rip it off. She moved her head down to your neck as you played with her hair, staring at the body laying only a few feet from you.

“Seeing you do that to him just, turns me on so much.” She breathed into your neck while placing hickey’s in multiple different places. She pictured you stabbing the man once again getting harder as time goes on, she doesn’t know how she had enough self control to not fuck you right in front of a body before but she’s glad she is now. Grabbing the knife on the table to used it to cut up your shirt, making you gasp.

“Nat! That was my favorite shirt!” “I’ll buy you a new one.” Came her raspy voice that you loved so dearly. She ripped off your bra and manhandled your breasts, pinching your nipples along the way. You moaned in response to her abuse on your tits, you loved when she was rough with you, when she’d throw you around and treat you like a piece of meat. She lowered herself and took off your pants, licking you through your underwear.

“You want my mouth on you baby?” When you nodded she gave a slap to your thigh and continued speaking, “Words princess, I want to hear you beg for me to lick you up.”

Giving her what she wanted you pleaded her to eat you out. “Please Nat! I want to feel you tongue all over me, want you to make me cum all over your face. Please I’m begging you Natty, make me feel good!” She groaned and gave you exactly what you wanted. Ripping your underwear in half she threw it to the side and gave a long lick to your folds. She moved her tongue fast all over your pussy trying to savor every bit of you. She sucked on your clit and teased your entrance with her finger. She made eye contact with you as she slowly slid in her finger while continuing to play with your clit. You threw your head back feeling as if you would cum any second now.

She removed her mouth from your clit to speak, “Look at me baby, look at the way I’m fucking you.” Doing what she said you looked down trying to keep your eyes from closing. She stared into your eyes as she inserted another finger, making your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You could hear your juices as she sped up in pace. Feeling your orgasm approaching you tried warning her, pushing her off of you to no avail.

“Can’t take anymore Nat! I’m gonna cum!” You yelled into the almost empty room. She stopped her sucking for a moment to speak once again, “Come on Y/N, cum for me! Cum all over my fingers and mouth.” She said in a moan going back to her previous action in a desperate pace. She needed you to cum for her, she needed to taste you. Feeling you clench around her fingers she let you ride out your high, slowly removing them once you were ready. Coming back up to meet you eye to eye she sucked the taste of you off her finger as if it was her last meal, exaggerated moans leaving her enclosed lips. She made you gag on her other finger, having you taste yourself. You stared at her while sucking, batting your eye lashes to seem innocent. She quickly removed herself from your mouth and picked you up, carrying you to the wall right next to the body of your old friend that you almost forgot about. She took out her painfully hard cock and ran it against your pussy lips, feeling your warmth from the slightest touch. She rubbed her cock over your core until she couldn’t take it anymore, sticking her length into your pussy she closed her eyes as your warm walls wrapped around her instantly. She slowly slid herself into you until there was no more left to take. Starting at a normal pace she basked in your whimpers and moans, using them as encouragement to go faster. She swallowed your noises with her mouth as she sloppily made out with you, trying to distract you from the slight pain. She took one hand to turn your head while the other helped hold you up.

When she turned your head you were greeted with the cold body in your eye sight. “See that? That’s what happens when someone try’s to take you away from me, they end up dead.” Her possessiveness only made you clench around her, feeling this she let out a loud moan.

“Gonna cum if you keep doing detka.” She said with her head leaned down onto your chest. She sucked your nipple as if milk was going to come out. Feeling herself getting closer to release the faster she went she tried bringing you as much pleasure as she could so you’d come with her. She didn’t get to speak as spurts of cum started to come out, your own orgasm was triggered and you finished all over her cock. You both stayed there, you cockwarming her and her holding you up still. You were the first one to break the silence, looking over at the blonde headed man you asked, “How the hell are we supposed to get away with this one?”

[amplexadversary]

Dragons I have in Flight Rising that are based on G Gundam characters.

In order: Domon Kasshu, Schwarz Bruder, Chibodee Crockett, George de Sand, Argo Gulskii, Allenby Beardsley, Kyoji Kasshu, and Rain Mikamura.

[xxsycamore]

𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. . . Blanc X MC

↬ A rainy afternoon shouldn't get in the way of Blanc's sweet teatime with Alice!

Blanc Lapin x MC (Alice) • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Rain; Tea Parties; Kissing; Magic • wordcount:  1,481•masterlist

a/n: the weather outside provoked me to start off early with the challenge 👉🏻👈🏻 this is for day 8 of Spring Showers Spring Flowers by @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess - Prompt: Rainy Days (fluff) - special tags for @vivifucksthevillian @viohasgoneintothewoods @katriniac

"Umm, Blanc… are you sure that we should be here?"

Despite the evident concern in her tone, Alice takes another sip from her cup, enjoying her tea. This impromptu tea party came out of nowhere, but she couldn't refuse Blanc's kind offer…

She'd just come to the Civic Center awhile ago to bring Blanc his lunch, seeing as her distracted White Rabbit had forgotten it again at home… She'd made it right on time for his lunch break, but was quite surprised when Blanc asked for her company. Exiting the office in flavor of finding some place more suited for having a meal, Alice's next surprise was seeing him begin to brew tea. And then the feeling grew tenfold as Blanc began climbing the stairs to the rooftop, where the Garden is situated.

"Why yes, we're merely having some tea, I don't see the harm in that. I'd hate to get you in trouble, dear Alice, I merely wanted to enjoy your company in a place that compliments your beauty…"

Blanc stirs his tea, smiling politely and prompting her to taste the food as well. She'd made enough for him to be sated and more, and a shared meal is always a tastier meal… maybe it's because of believing in this philosophy why Alice complies and nods, returning the smile. Oh, it really is tasty!

"The table looks even bigger when the seats are empty, somehow… there's this energy about this place even when we're alone here."

Blanc hums approvingly, gracious even in his chewing. He pats over his mouth with a handkerchief, manners on point as if this really is one of those special meetings of the top officers of the two armies. Their respective flags waver slightly in the wind, standing proud on their tall poles on either side of the table.

"Aren't you feeling calm in my company, Alice?"

The question gets her off-guard, the tea cup trembling for a second in her hands. She takes another sip.

"Uh-huh! I do. Thank you for bringing me here, it's not every day that I get to enjoy tea in such a place!"

While admiring the scenery, Alice notes how the grey clouds overhead add to the beauty of it, instead of ruining it, strange as it is. It's a pretty unique feeling. Gray days are almost never pretty, but from up here it's different. The budding nature enveloping the Garden adds enough color to contrast with the sky, and the temperature is not unpleasantly low at all. It's a typical spring day.

Well, it wouldn't be one without rain. And so the rain arrives.

Plop.

"Ahh, a raindrop fell into my tea… Haha…"

Blanc's beautiful white lashes flutter and show more of the pretty color of his peach-colored eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, as his attention is drawn to the cup, after Alice's comment. He's quick to react, much to Alice's surprise, as he jumps to his feet and opens his coat to reveal a foldable umbrella… so he predicted that this might happen?

"This is no ordinary umbrella, Alice. It's one of Oliver's newest inventions, you see. I think today makes the perfect chance for us to put it to the test."

Alice blinks but is just as curious as Blanc appears to be, scooting closer to his side. Of course Oliver makes poor Blanc his test bunny that is supposed to report obediently afterwards… she can only hope the invention is harmless. Considering how much of Fenrir's infamous guns are created where this umbrella came from…

"We unfold it like this, and the magic crystal in the handle does the rest of the job!"

Blanc explains, giving himself an aura of someone who knows what he's doing. Fortunately, it goes as he says, the crystal starting to shine as the umbrella is unfolded… and it starts to grow?!

The fabric held on the metal rods stretches out until it reaches the size of a sunshade, like the ones that can be seen in one of those cute outdoor cafes in central.

"Are those… balloons?"

The worries about Blanc suddenly having to hold the weight of that large thing start to disappear as Alice observes dozens of detached balloons inflate under the umbrella, making it float graciously in the air.

"Ahh, good, it didn't fly away! Oliver's main concern was that the balloons would either be too few or too many for its mass. As always, his calculations are top notch."

As more raindrops fall, Alice feels the need to snap out of her awe and take refuge under the parasol, along with her tea cup.

"And now, we can resume our tea time."

Blanc looks at Alice and they exchange a sweet smile. The food is finished and put away, and the rain becomes but a soundtrack to the tranquil afternoon.

"Ah, Alice, please come closer. I don't want the rain to get to you, and besides, you must be getting cold."

Blanc is… offering his lap. True, the parasol is large, but Alice really does feel the raindrops hitting her arm occasionally… oh well. Maybe it won't hurt, just this once.

"If you'd excuse me…"

Ah, this is bad. Her heart is going to explode, and her lips are remaining on a thin line as she attempts to drink as if nothing is happening. The lukewarm liquid is touching her mouth but she can't take in anything, fairly sure that she's going to choke the second she does.

Blanc is warm, especially his arm that wraps around her waist. That's why the invention is so clever, leaving him with two free hands… It's convenient for holding her in place, and nothing more of course, the gentleman that he is. Alice tries to concentrate on anything that is not him, in order to keep her sanity.

Nearby, the blossoming trees are standing tall in the spring shower as it starts to fall with more vigor upon them from the skies.

"Aww, I feel bad for the little buds. They're so fragile, and the rain is so strong."

Blanc follows her line of sight, chuckling softly. The sound of his laugher is more prominent when she's that close, and it sounds way more melodic too.

"They're going to be alright. Nature has its ways. Besides, they're just like you."

"?!"

Alice turns to look at Blanc, not realizing how he'd leaned closer to see better. Their faces are millimeters apart.

"Fate gave you strong rains, yet you held your head high and blossomed after each one. You're strong, Alice. And beautiful, too. You bring spring to Cradle."

Each word makes Alice's head spin more as she finds herself lavished with sweet words… she knows Blanc means each one of them deeply, his usual gentlemanly smile looking a tad more serious now. She's going to explode if he doesn't kiss her right this instant.

"Can I kiss you?"

Yes! Yes!

"Please."

Blanc's chuckle is barely audible, but she can feel it as he presses his lips to her. First, the stretch of his mouth in that sweet smile, then the parting of his lips. She eagerly answers, melting into the sweet-tasting kiss.

Blanc's lunch break draws to an end, much to their dismay. Raindrops start to fall seldom from the skies, like spring showers do, and Blanc outstretches an ungloved hand beyond the margins of the parasol to check. He then folds the umbrella, but still hurries inside with Alice, tea set safely collected as he insists he could take care of that.

"Ahh, I still worry about raindrops getting on the frames of my glasses… Do you think I can ask Oliver to create mini-umbrellas for them?"

Alice lets out a snort that grows into audible laugher, imagining how silly it would look like… but if she can find something charming in that, then the inventor surely wouldn't, and it won't go without some rude remarks. But oh well, maybe the kind heart he hides somewhere deep within would dictate the words "Fine, you stupid rabbit, ridicule yourself if you want to, I'll see what I can do."

"Anything that prevents you from taking off your glasses to wipe them and thus leaves you vulnerable is a good idea, Blanc…"

Going down the stairs with Blanc, the record keeper suddenly stops and looks and looks at her.

"I don't mind the rain, if it makes my dear little blossom show her beautiful, true colors."

With a finger behind his lips, a silent gesture to shush her, Blanc joins his colleague Mousse who seems to have used his own lunch break to its fullest, relishing in his favorite pastime of napping. At least that's what the lines on his face tell. Maybe Alice can too use a nap right now, because all that happened this afternoon felt like a dream, and it was one that ended too fast…

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @ikemen-writer @tele86 @psychodreamer666 @cilokgoang @moonstruck-writing Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[trendfilmsetter]

Apple Music’s ‘100 Best Albums of All Time’ list:

#1. Lauryn Hill — The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

#2. Michael Jackson — Thriller

#3. The Beatles — Abbey Road

#4. Prince & The Revolution — Purple Rain

#5. Frank Ocean — Blonde

#6. Stevie Wonder — Songs in the Key of Life

#7. Kendrick Lamar — good kid, m.A.A.d city

#8. Amy Winehouse — Back to Black

#9. Nirvana — Nevermind

#10. Beyoncé — Lemonade

#11. Fleetwood Mac — Rumours

#12. Radiohead — OK Computer

#13. Jay-Z — The Blueprint

#14. Bob Dylan — Highway 61 Revisited

#15. Adele — 21

#16. Joni Mitchell — Blue

#17. Marvin Gaye — What’s Going On

#18. Taylor Swift — 1989 (Taylor’s Version)

#19. Dr. Dre — The Chronic

#20. The Beach Boys — Pet Sounds

#21. The Beatles — Revolver

#22. Bruce Springsteen — Born to Run

#23. Daft Punk — Discovery

#24. David Bowie — The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars

#25. Miles Davis — Kind of Blue

#26. Kanye West — My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

#27. Led Zeppelin — Led Zeppelin II

#28. Pink Floyd — The Dark Side of the Moon

#29. A Tribe Called Quest — The Low End Theory

#30. Billie Eilish — WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

#31. Alanis Morissette — Jagged Little Pill

#32. The Notorious B.I.G. — Ready to Die

#33. Radiohead — Kid A

#34. Public Enemy — It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back

#35. The Clash — London Calling

#36. Beyoncé — BEYONCÉ

#37. Wu-Tang Clan — Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

#38. Carole King — Tapestry

#39. Nas — Illmatic

#40. Aretha Franklin — I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You

#41. OutKast — Aquemini

#42. Janet Jackson — Control

#43. Talking Heads — Remain in Light

#44. Stevie Wonder — Innervisions

#45. Björk — Homogenic

#46. Bob Marley & The Wailers — Exodus

#47. Drake — Take Care

#48. Beastie Boys — Paul’s Boutique

#49. U2 — The Joshua Tree

#50. Kate Bush — Hounds of Love

#51. Prince — Sign O’ the Times

#52. Guns N' Roses — Appetite for Destruction

#53. The Rolling Stones — Exile on Main St.

#54. John Coltrane — A Love Supreme

#55. Rihanna — ANTI

#56. The Cure — Disintegration

#57. D’Angelo — Voodoo

#58. Oasis — (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?

#59. Arctic Monkeys — AM

#60. The Velvet Underground & Nico — The Velvet Underground and Nico

#61. Sade — Love Deluxe

#62. 2Pac — All Eyez on Me

#63. The Jimi Hendrix Experience — Are You Experienced?

#64. Erykah Badu — Baduizm

#65. De La Soul — 3 Feet High and Rising

#66. The Smiths — The Queen Is Dead

#67. Portishead — Dummy

#68. The Strokes — Is This It

#69. Metallica — Master of Puppets

#70. N.W.A — Straight Outta Compton

#71. Kraftwerk — Trans-Europe Express

#72. SZA — SOS

#73. Steely Dan — Aja

#74. Nine Inch Nails — The Downward Spiral

#75. Missy Elliott — Supa Dupa Fly

#76. Bad Bunny — Un Verano Sin Ti

#77. Madonna — Like a Prayer

#78. Elton John — Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

#79. Lana Del Rey — Norman F*****g Rockwell!

#80. Eminem — The Marshall Mathers LP

#81. Neil Young — After the Gold Rush

#82. 50 Cent — Get Rich or Die Tryin'

#83. Patti Smith — Horses

#84. Snoop Dogg — Doggystyle

#85. Kacey Musgraves — Golden Hour

#86. Mary J. Blige — My Life

#87. Massive Attack — Blue Lines

#88. Nina Simone — I Put a Spell on You

#89. Lady Gaga — The Fame Monster

#90. AC/DC — Back in Black

#91. George Michael — Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1

#92. Tyler, The Creator — Flower Boy

#93. Solange — A Seat at the Table

#94. Burial — Untrue

#95. Usher — Confessions

#96. Lorde — Pure Heroine

#97. Rage Against the Machine — Rage Against the Machine

#98. Travis Scott — ASTROWORLD

#99. Eagles — Hotel California

#100. Robyn — Body Talk

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 29

Getting out of Boston with the Fireflies doesn't go as planned. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-28, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 5.5k

You stuck close to Ellie as you made your way to the building Joel and Tess used to stash things for smuggling, just on the outskirts of the QZ. It was pouring rain, the chill of the coming fall already setting in. 

When the seasons changed the first time after the outbreak, it had caught you off guard. Logically, of course, you knew that the Earth was still turning, still making its annual orbit. The sun still rose and set, clouds still burst, fruit still turned rotten on the vine. But when the leaves started turning around you as you neared what would become the QZ for the first time, it was disorienting. Everything else had stopped, everything else had come to an end. Why would the seasons still change? 

It was a similar feeling now. The already shifting world made you unsteady, like things should have been frozen when Ellie showed up at your door. Her unchanging self was monumental. It felt as though things should stay the same while humanity reckoned with it. 

Tess went into the building first and jerked her head toward a corner and you grabbed Ellie, bringing her there with you while Tess and Joel checked the small building. 

“We’re clear,” Joel said before going and settling in the main room. 

“Try to stick behind me,” you whispered to Ellie. She glanced up at you. “It’ll be OK, they won’t hurt you but…” 

“How well do you know these people?” She asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

You weren’t quite sure how to answer that. 

“We’ve saved each others’ lives more than once,” you said. She just nodded and followed you into the main room.

Your eyes automatically drifted to the place were Joel had been on the floor when you’d pushed his bones back into his body and pierced his chest so he could breathe. You stood opposite Joel and Tess, Ellie’s small body partially behind you, partially beside you. You glanced at her but she glared back. Of course she wasn’t going to listen, not fully. 

“Look kid,” Tess looked at Ellie. “I don’t have time to fucking coddle you so we’re going to talk like you’re an adult.” 

“Fuckin’ fine by me,” she snapped. You ground your teeth. 

“What the fuck do the Fireflies want with an infected girl,” Tess said, adjusting the grip on her gun. Your muscles tensed. 

“I told you,” Ellie snapped. “I got bit three weeks ago, haven’t turned. No one lasts that long.” 

“So?” Tess said, looking to you. 

“They think she’s immune,” you replied. “That’s why they’re moving her - us. They think she’s immune and with her they can can reverse engineer a cure.” 

“Can they?” Joel asked, looking at you. 

You sighed. 

It’s not like you’d gone to actual college for this. You knew how to run experiments, how to recreate work that had already been done and make adjustments to try to learn something new. You’d never formally learned how to develop a vaccine or invent a medication. If you’d been actually trained on how to do this shit, developing the treatment you had probably wouldn’t have taken you more than a decade. But then, there was a very good chance that no one who knew how to actual develop stuff like this had survived. 

“I don’t know,” you said eventually. “But having a starting point… That makes a big difference.” 

“Tommy talked about this shit for years,” Joel shook his head, looking at you. “You didn’t fuckin’ buy it then.” 

“Not sure I buy it now,” you shrugged. “This isn’t my area of expertise, Joel. If you recall, I wanted to go into pediatrics and then all my training revolved around keeping people alive. I never learned much about developing vaccines or medications before the outbreak and sure as hell didn’t have much of a chance to learn about it after.” 

“Fireflies are always on this shit,” he muttered. “Should just go back…” 

“So you’re ready to just give up on Tommy then?” Tess asked him, brows raised. “Because who gives a shit what the Fireflies believe or don’t believe, if they’re willing to give us what we need if we bring her across Boston then fuck it, let ‘em.” 

Joel looked between you and Ellie before he sighed.  

“She so much as twitches…” 

Ellie made a choking sound that made you whip your head around only to see her hand outstretched, head cocked, eyes rolled back, all exaggerated mocking. You glared at her until she stopped. 

“Alright, geez,” she put her hands up. “No one here wants to have any fun, got it…” 

You raised your eyebrows at her and she just mirrored your expression, almost a taunt. You resisted the urge to sigh. 

“We should rest,” Tess said. “Get underway first thing.” 

“I’ll keep watch,” Joel said, still looking uncertain as he went toward the front room. 

Tess just nodded before stretching out on the ground. You turned to Ellie.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. 

“But…” she frowned. 

“You’ll be OK,” you smiled a little, grabbing your bag and following Joel. 

He glanced up when you came in, already having settled on top of a box in the corner where he was well hidden from someone glancing inside the building but had a good view of the entry points. 

“Need to check your hand,” you said, nodding to his battered knuckles. 

“’S fine,” he muttered, looking away from you. 

“Joel,” you said quietly. “I know what you do to yourself when you beat someone to death. Let me take care of your hand.” 

He glared at you for a second before he sighed. 

“Fine.” 

You went and set your bag beside him before you knelt at his feet, tucking your flashlight between your cheek and your shoulder as you looked him over. His knuckles were bloody but he hadn’t broken through to the bone this time. You delicately traced the bones of hid hands, the structure of him below his skin and veins. You wrapped your smaller hands around his large one, lining your fingers up where you thought the damage might be worse. 

“Open and close your hand for me,” you said. He obeyed. You felt the fracture and nodded. 

“You’ve had worse,” you said, releasing his hand and going into the pack. “But if you’re about to head to wherever the hell it is Tommy ended up, you should probably start the trip in as close to one piece as possible.” 

You got out the medical kit, part of you uneasy about having to dip into your supplies so early. The Fireflies should have plenty of gear but it still bothered you, your stomach twisting. Like it was an omen. 

You used alcohol wipes on his cuts, followed by antibacterial ointment, looking his hand over one last time before getting out a wrap. You set the light down for this, able to do it fine by touch. 

“I wanted to apologize,” you said after working up the courage to do it. 

“For what,” he replied. Not really asking. 

“For what I said when Andrew got hurt,” you started wrapping his hand, trying not to think about the way you knew how it felt when he skimmed it over your skin, tracing your shape in the dark. “It wasn’t your fault, I know you wouldn’t have let something happen to him. He’s a grown man, he made his own choices. It’s just sometimes hard for me to remember that he’s not still the kid I picked up on my way to the QZ, that he doesn’t need me to protect him. I was just… I was so fucking scared and I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair.” 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Did you mean it?” He asked. 

“No,” you said. You didn’t need to think about it. “At least, not all of it. Sometimes I wish you’d never called me that night. Seems like it would have been a lot easier for a lot of people if I’d never known what was going on. I would have just gone back into the house, Nan would have been there, that would have been the end of it. Simple.” 

You could feel him stiffen. 

“What about Andrew.” 

“He’s why it’s sometimes and not all the time,” you said absently, picking up the flashlight to check your work. It was oddly easy to be honest with Joel. He was just a habit you fell back into, for better or for worse. “Otherwise… no. I didn’t mean it.” 

You repacked your bag before standing up. 

“Anyway,” you shrugged. “Since I’ll probably never see you again after tomorrow I just… wanted you to know that. I’m going to go try to sleep while I can. I’m fucking exhausted, Fireflies don’t care much about rest, as it happens…” 

“Why’d you go to Marlene?” He asked. 

You frowned, tuning back to him. 

“What?” 

“Marlene,” he repeated. “Why’d you go to her. Tommy?” 

“I didn’t go to her,” your frown deepened. “I haven’t talked to Tommy in weeks and I trust Marlene about as much as I trust a snake oil salesman…” 

“How’d the Fireflies find you then?” He frowned, too. 

“Not sure,” you shrugged. “Ellie showed up at my door, I tried to take her to the clinic but we were intercepted. My guess is Marlene was following Ellie but I don’t know why. She knew about the bite and put a gun to my head…” 

“Literally?” Joel asked, on his feet, voice sharp. 

“Yeah,” you looked at him, confused. Why would he care? Why would he be surprised? “But it’s the Fireflies, that’s how they operate, isn’t it? She put me at gunpoint and leveraged Ellie to get us to go along with them…” 

“That…” he stood, tense for a moment before shaking his head and sitting down again. 

“In her defense, you did point a gun at me earlier today,” you said dryly. 

“Yeah and you knew I wasn’t going to fuckin’ use it,” he muttered. 

“Did I?” You asked. He just looked at you, face hard. You frowned. “Actually, speaking of Marlene… Earlier today, you blamed her for Tommy leaving.” 

He nodded once. 

“That’s not what you told me.” He just looked at you, as though staring you down would make you stop asking. “Joel, come on. We’ve been… whatever this is for, what, 24 years? After tomorrow, it’s over. Don’t lie to me now. What’s the point of it?” 

He looked at you for a moment before he sighed. 

“The explosion,” he said, his eyes still on you. “The one where you got hurt… I saw Tommy there. Confronted him. He helped set it, plan it. Told him he had two choices, he could either leave the fuckin’ Fireflies and turn them in or he could get the fuck away from you. Wasn’t about to let him get you killed for his stupid fuckin’ cause, knew he’d try to drag you down, too.” 

“Tommy…” you managed. Joel just nodded once, hardened look still on his face. Your stomach twisted. Part of you wanted to believe he was lying but you knew he wasn’t. You knew him too well, you couldn’t trick yourself into it. 

You just nodded once. 

“Should’ve told you,” he said, looking outside. “But you were friends… He didn’t have many of those, didn’t want to ruin it.” 

You tried to stop your hand from shaking. You swallowed the bile in your throat. 

“Since I doubt we’ll be alone together again,” you said, voice surprisingly steady even though it felt like someone had cracked open your chest and was reaching into your blood and your marrow to try to pull him out of you. It wasn’t working. It just hurt. “It’s been… good to know you. I hope you take care of yourself.” 

You didn’t wait for a response. Instead, you went to lie down on the ground near Ellie, relieved that both she and Tess seemed to be asleep so neither of them would hear you cry. 

*** 

Joel wished he could remember exactly when Boston became such a fucking shit show to maneuver through. He wasn’t sure now if it was a gradual decline - not that it had ever been an easy thing to do - or if, suddenly, the infected and the raiders became especially bad. 

Today, the issue was infected. 

There were swarms of them it seemed. The four of you had managed to stay off their radar so far but it would be a delicate balance getting you and the kid to the old statehouse without setting them off. 

He let Tess decide the route. He was too distracted, too busy thinking about your conversation with him the night before. 

He hadn’t expected an apology from you. He still wasn’t sure he deserved one, not after what he’d said and done to you over the last 15 years. Anyone watching him would have thought he was some kind of fucking sadist, that he enjoyed hurting you. The curse of you - of knowing you, loving you - was knowing exactly how to rip you open and get you to stay away from him. It took a lot to trigger your sense of self preservation. He’d finally pushed you there without intending to and he hadn’t expected you to ever forgive him for it, let alone apologize. 

And then you said you didn’t think you’d see him again and his blood went cold. It wasn’t that you hadn’t made that obvious before. You said you were leaving, that you didn’t think you were coming back to Boston. He’d understood that, superficially, but there was part of him that was so deeply in denial about what that meant he hadn’t even begun to piece it together. You would be gone. He would never hear your laugh or touch your skin or press his nose into your hair and breathe you in again. 

He knew then that he’d never really thought of things with you as over. Even as he tried to shove you as far away as he could manage, even as you railed against him, part of him held out hope that he’d find his way back to you. Once he was able to repair the broken parts of him, once he was capable of it, once he could convince you to forgive him, you would be there smelling like lavender and leaving your goddamn hair in his shower. 

That wouldn’t be possible if you were a country away. How was he supposed to just let you go a whole fucking country away?

He watched you in the morning, out of the corner of his eye. He watched you braid your hair again. You pulled ribbons out of your bag and tied them on the ends. You checked on the girl. You went into your bag and pulled out a blister pack of pills, handing them to her. 

“What’s this?” The girl frowned, turning the pack over in her fingers. 

“Birth control pills,” you replied, taking one from a blister pack of your own. “You should start taking them now. Make sure you do it daily and at the same time every day. It’s a good idea to keep them on your person so if you get separated from your stuff, you’ve still got them…” 

The girl looked at you, incredulous. 

“You think I’m looking for a fuckin’ boyfriend out here?” She held the pills back out to you. You looked down at them but you didn’t take them. 

“Look,” you glanced toward Tess and Joel and lowered your voice, Joel turning his head slightly so his good ear was closer to you. “I’ve been out here before. Sometimes it’s not up to you. I will do everything I can to keep you safe but if that happens, it’s a lot better if you don’t have to worry about pregnancy. Trust me.” 

His stomach twisted. The girl’s face turned serious. She took the pill. 

You and Tess both tried to lighten things for her after that, the two of you answering whatever questions Ellie seemed to have, you sometimes teasing her.

“Be careful you gremlin,” you said as she walked along the edge of a crater left by a bomb. “I’m not climbing in after you.”

“Psh,” she scoffed. “Yes you would.”

You just smiled a little. You didn’t deny her.

He and Tess led the four of you up to plot a route, locating the swarm of infected in town. 

“Jesus,” you breathed. Tess glanced over at you. “Sorry, haven’t been out in a while I guess.”

“Keeps getting worse,” she said before looking to Ellie. “And they’re all connected. You step on one piece of fungus in one part of the city, the whole pack of ‘em are on you.” 

The girl swallowed hard. 

“This applies to you, too,” she said. “Infected don’t just bite. They can and will rip you to pieces if they have the chance. Immune or not.” 

“Should cut through the museum,” Joel said. “We can stay up high, keep it a straighter shot.” 

No one fought him on it and, at first, it seemed like the right call. The fungus leading inside the building was dried and dead. 

“That’s a good sign,” you said, looking at Joel. “Right?” 

Tess looked at him. They both got out their guns. You followed suit. 

“Ellie,” you said quickly. “In there, you do whatever they tell you the second they tell you…” 

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. 

“I mean it,” you said. “It’s life or death shit, they know what they’re doing…” 

“We’re not going to let you get hurt if we can help it, kid,” Tess said. “But you need to listen to us.” 

“Well then can I have a gun?” She asked, turning back to you. “Because if it’s that dangerous…” 

All three adults spoke in unison. 

“No.” 

“Can’t be that bad then,” she muttered, tightening her grip on her flashlight. 

Joel and Tess shared a look. 

“Stay behind us,” Joel said, looking at you and the kid. “The both of you.” 

For a minute, Joel thought they might have gotten lucky. Everything pointed to the place being abandoned by infected. The tendrils of fungus had started to rot, there were no inhuman sounds. 

Then you spotted the body. 

You let out a small gasp and tucked your gun into the waistband of your jeans, rushing to check the man’s pulse. Joel didn’t need to wait for your look of disappointment, he knew the man was dead. 

“Maybe he came in here to get away from them,” Tess whispered quickly, looking from Joel to you. “This doesn’t mean…” 

“This doesn’t mean what?” Ellie asked when Tess didn’t finish her sentence. “Was that people or infected? Guys?” 

You got back up, pulling your gun back out and standing so close to the girl that you were pressed against her back. Your eyes were wide, looking at Joel. 

He tried to set aside his fear for a moment. The clawing, vicious thought of watching you die. The knowledge of what failure now would mean. 

“From here on out, we are silent,” he whispered. “Not quiet, silent.” 

Ellie opened her mouth to argue and you clamped a hand over her mouth while Joel put a finger to his lips. He mouthed the word ‘silent’ at the girl and she nodded against your hand. 

Joel and Tess took the lead, moving slowly, silently. Ellie was in the middle and you brought up the rear. 

The clicking began when you were in one of the gallery rooms. Joel put his arm out, directing the three of you back into a nook around a display, hopefully enough to protect from the clicker’s version of vision. 

You had an arm across the girl but she was still leaning around Tess, trying to see, her eyes wide. Joel was reminded, for half a moment, of Sarah. 

Not of the violence of her death. Not even of anything sorrowful. Just of her, him and you at a museum. It had been busy that day, it was hard to get to the signs on the displays to properly read them. She kept leaning around people, trying find new vantage points, eyes wide and desperately curious. That yearning to understand why, to know things.

‘Blind,’ he mouthed at the girl, gesturing to his eyes. She nodded, leaning back into you. 

A clicker passed the door. Joel gestured quickly, sending Tess one way and you and the girl another. If one of you made a sound, at least it wouldn’t lead them to everyone. 

He kept watching you. You kept Ellie close, the gun in your hand. He could tell you were trying to force yourself not to panic, could see you counting your breaths. 

The clicking came into the room. Your eyes met his. There was desperation there but an almost quiet acceptance. As though you understood that your life was over but wanted to press on anyway. 

Joel used his flashlight to point to where to go next, guiding the four of you through the maze of exhibitions and beyond the infected. He went first, moving carefully, 

Not carefully enough. 

He felt it half a second before he heard it, the crunch of glass below his feet. 

His eyes instinctively looked to you. Your eyes had somehow gotten wider. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look quite so terrified. 

The clicker shrieked and knocked him prone and before he got a chance to press his weapon to its chest to fire, the sound of a gunshot split the air, blood spilling onto him. The infected on top of him shrieked and ran for you. He watched it happen almost in slow motion. The clicker moving for you, you trying to fire the gun and nothing happening, the trigger not moving. 

Your gun had jammed. 

You threw the girl away from you. 

Your eyes met his again for a split second before the clicker was on top of you, a soft yelp coming from you as you tried to hold it back. Ellie jumped on the infected, trying to hold it back from you, blocking any hope Joel had for a shot at it. 

Joel scrambled to reach you but Tess beat him to it, tackling the clicker, the three of you tangled together with the infected until he heard the clicker shriek a last, gasping shriek before falling silent, Tess’ knife in its throat. 

Two more scrambled into the room and Joel was ready for them this time, not worrying about keeping quiet. They’d been loud enough that anything in the building was already on its way there if they weren’t there already. 

It only took three shots each to fell the other two. 

The room was almost eerily quiet then. He looked to the three of you. 

“Everyone OK?” He asked, breathless. 

You shakily lifted a sleeve, testing your arm before you nodded. 

“Twisted ankle,” Tess said. “Had worse.” 

“Well shit,” Ellie muttered. He looked to her as she examined a shallow bite on her forearm. You rushed her, taking her arm in your hands as you looked her over. “It’s fine. If it had to happen to one of us…” 

You sighed. 

“Should have stayed out of that one, Gremlin,” you brushed her hair back before you looked to Tess. “When we’re in the light I can splint your ankle.” 

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” Tess said, limping toward the exit. 

The second all of you were outside, Joel shut the window tight and you dropped your bag down, Tess sitting down and stretching her leg out. 

“Keep going with her,” you said, getting out your medical supplies. “Rather you put some distance between her and this fucking place. We won’t be long.” 

Joel ground his teeth, not liking the idea of leaving you here. 

“Joel,” Tess said, imploring him. 

“C’mon kid,” he jerked his head toward the wood board between buildings. He pulled a scrap of fabric from his pocket and handed it to her. “Cover that, before Doc gets a chance to work on you.” 

“Thanks,” she said, looking across the board. 

“I know it’s high and looks bad…” he tried to remember how to sound reassuring. How he used to talk to… 

“Not bad,” she said, climbing on top of the plank and plowing across. Joel looked over his shoulder at you wrapping Tess’s ankle. He followed the girl. 

“So where are you going when you get the car?” She asked, her hands looped through her backpack straps. 

“None of your business,” he muttered. 

“Fine, damn,” she rolled her eyes before lowering her voice. “Long as it’s not with me and Doc…” 

“What’d you say?” He snapped. 

“Nothing,” she glared at him. 

“Sounded like somethin’.” 

“Just something that goes along with what Doc said about you earlier,” she walked ahead of him. He paused before trying to catch up with her. 

“What’d she say?” He asked. 

“That you’re an asshole,” she looked up at him, smirking. “But in a mostly harmless way.” 

He glanced back in your direction again. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to know anything about whatever that is,” she muttered. 

Joel didn’t ask what she meant by it. 

He was relieved when you and Tess caught up with them before they reached the statehouse. 

“Which of us do you think they’re least likely to shoot?” Tess muttered as the group got closer. 

“I don’t think they’ve got a reason to hate me quite yet,” you sighed. “I can do the talking at least to start. Then you can make your demands and we can be done.” 

He looked at you on instinct at the last part. 

He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He needed to find Tommy. Needed to make sure he was OK, that he stayed safe. He needed to protect you and know that you were safe. He needed for this to not be the last time he saw you. 

What if he forgot what you looked like? He’d left the photo he had of you in the QZ. It was the only one he had, what if he didn’t go back and you faded? Even if he made it back, that photo was black and white. What if he forgot the precise shade of your eyes? 

“Something’s wrong,” Tess frowned, running up to the truck outside the statehouse. 

“Tess,” Joel followed her quickly. 

She pulled the doors open, ducked below the truck, tore open the back. The gas tank on the truck had been shot out. 

“Where the fuck are they?” She looked to you, to the girl. You just stood there. “Where the fuck are they, Doc!” 

“Inside,” Ellie pointed to a trail of blood going up the stairs. “I think they’re inside.” 

You took the stairs two at a time and Joel ran to keep up with you. 

By the time he caught you, you were inside, down on your knee at the body closest to the door, checking for a pulse. 

“Shit,” Tess said, coming in behind him with the girl in tow. 

“He’s cold,” you said quietly. “This happened at least half a day ago, maybe longer. They may have been dead before we even left the QZ.” 

“Fuck!” Tess yelled. Joel frowned, following after her. 

“Tess,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. 

“There must be a map or a radio or some kind of fucking plan somewhere besides one of these idiots’ heads,” she ripped papers off a table, looking for something. 

“What happened?” Ellie asked, looking up at Joel. 

He took a cursory glance. 

“Some of them got infected,” he nodded to one. “Ended up fighting the ones who weren’t. All killed each other.” 

“Fuck,” Ellie muttered. You came up behind her. 

“Doc,” Tess went to you, her eyes wide and desperate. “Marlene had to tell you something, where was she sending you…” 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “West, that’s all she said….” 

“Tommy?” She asked. You were quiet. “Come on, the man you were fucking didn’t tell you where the fuck he was going?” 

“Just west,” you shook your head. “We can try to go to where we last heard from him, it can’t be that far from there, see if anyone knows anything…” 

“Let’s just go home,” Joel said, an odd haze of relief passing through him at the idea. This was simple. Go home. With you. Neither of you would be across the country. He wouldn’t need to rely on his memory to keep you close, it would all be OK. 

“No,” Tess shook her head, storming to another pile of supplies in the corner. “No, we have to do this…” 

“Tess,” he said again. 

“I’m not going back there!” She yelled, panting for breath, her hands shaking, papers clutched tight. “Even if I fucking could I wouldn’t want to, I’m so fucking tired of pretending like that’s a life in there, Joel! Aren’t you?” 

“What do you mean even if you could?” He asked quietly. 

She shook her head, smiling darkly. His stomach sank. 

“It was bound to happen eventually,” she said. “The shit we do.” 

She pulled her shirt to the side, exposing her neck. The bite there was vicious, the tendrils of cordyceps already stretching and reaching up toward her brain. Joel stepped back on instinct. She laughed once. 

“Tess…” you breathed, going for her, but she held up her hand, keeping you back. 

“You have to get them there, Joel,” she said, releasing the shirt. 

“No,” he shook his head. 

“Yes,” she said. “Yes you do. They’re sitting ducks without you. Get them to Bill and Frank. They already know Doc, they’ll take them, they can figure it out from there…” 

“Tess,” he said again, his voice cracking. 

“I haven’t asked you for much Joel but I’m asking you for this,” she said. She looked to Ellie. “Show him your arm.” 

The girl looked to you for a second before obeying. Her wound was different from Tess’, less angry. As though she’d gotten a cut on the playground, not been attacked by an inhuman monster. 

“She’s real,” Tess said. “She’s real and Doc can help do something with her and you can help make this world something worth fucking living in again, Joel. Get them there.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Joel saw something slinking across the floor. Strands of fungus, connecting to others. He looked back to Tess. She saw it too. 

He ran for the door and threw it open, a swarm of infected on the horizon. He closed it again.

“How many?” Tess asked. 

“All of ‘em,” he said. “Fuckin’ all of ‘em we’ve got a minute at best.” 

You were going for your bag. 

“I’ve got a euth kit,” your voice was wet. “I can administer it and you can go upstairs. Stay out of sight, it’ll only take a few minutes, it’ll be peaceful and easy…” 

Tess ignored you. She shoved a barrel of gasoline on its side. 

“What the fuck?” Ellie backed away from her, watching the fuel spill at her feet. 

“Won’t need the kit, Doc,” she said, going to the next barrel and knocking it over, too. “If I’m going down, I’m taking them down, too…” 

Joel swallowed back bile. Tess, why did it have to be Tess? The one fucking constant thing in his life for the past 15 years, the person who came the closest to accepting him for what he’d become without asking why. She had become family, the only person now who knew what he was and he’d failed her, too….

“Joel!” She yelled at him, snapping him out of his own mind. “You have to do this. You can do this. Save who you can save.” 

He looked at her for a moment, let himself recognize what he was about to lose, before he turned and all but ran for you and the girl. 

“NO!” Ellie shrieked as he grabbed her. “We can’t just leave her! We can’t just let her die like that!” 

He looked over his shoulder to make sure you were following as he dragged the kicking, screaming girl. You were walking backwards, looking at Tess as she looked back at you, something unspoken passing between you, like a secret you both held. 

At the last moment you turned and grabbed Ellie’s hand, pulling her along with Joel, running to put as much distance between yourselves and the building as you could. 

When the explosion shook the earth, you stopped with him, both of you looking back as the building burned, the screams of infected on the air. 

A/N: And so four becomes three and our core group are heading on their adventure. Gonna be some ANGST next chapter!

I do have a taglist. If you'd liked to be added (or already asked and I missed you - I'm so sorry! Please ask again!) comment below!

Thank you for reading and being patient with me posting this soooo much later than I wanted to. I so appreciate you all and hope you're still having fun reading this piece! Love you!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings @arizonadaydreamer @mumma-moonchild @blackroseguzzi @candypeaches16 @kittenlittle24 @wrappedinfiction @oatmeaiboy @pedritosdarling

[chokememaximoff]

You can't hide from the shadows part I

g!p Natasha Romanoff x Reader series

Abstract:In "You Can't Hide from the Shadows," join Y/N on a thrilling journey as she finds herself ensnared in a dangerous game of survival, hunted by a relentless foe. When Natasha Romanoff, the enigmatic Black Widow, enters her life, Y/N's world is turned upside down, leading to an unexpected and intense love affair amidst the shadows. Together, they must navigate a treacherous path of love, danger, and self-discovery, all while attempting to escape the ever-encroaching darkness that threatens to consume them both.

TW: violence, including physical altercations, injuries, and gun violence, along with depictions of abuse, torture, kidnapping, and captivity, explicit sexual content, mentions of mental health issues, pregnancy and childbirth, and strong language and mature themes.

The air hung heavy with tension, suffocating every corner of the dimly lit room. Y/N Y/L/N stood in the center, her heart pounding like a trapped bird. Her father's presence filled the space, an ominous figure seated on a worn armchair, his features distorted by a twisted mixture of anger and malevolence.

"You're worthless, just like your mother," his voice dripped with venom as he spat out the words, each syllable slicing through the air like a blade.

Y/N's breath hitched, her gaze cast down, her hands trembling at her sides. She had heard these words before, too many times. She dared not meet his eyes, for his gaze held a power that could shatter her fragile resolve.

His chair scraped against the floor as he stood, his looming shadow casting her in darkness. The scent of alcohol clung to him, mingling with the acrid smell of fear that clung to Y/N's skin. His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair, forcing her to look at him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he hissed, his grip tightening, his fingernails digging into her scalp.

Y/N's eyes met his, her own a mirror of pain and defiance. She refused to let him break her, even as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh.

"You think you can defy me?" he sneered, his fingers releasing their grip on her hair only to strike her across the face with a force that sent her stumbling back.

Pain exploded across her cheek, her vision blurring with tears. She tasted the metallic tang of blood as it filled her mouth, a cruel reminder of the world she was trapped in.

The room seemed to close in on her as her father advanced, his anger escalating into a frenzy. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, each word a venomous lash that tore at her soul. Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps, her body aching, her spirit fraying.

But then, amidst the torment, a surge of something unfamiliar rose within her – a fire ignited by years of suffering, a primal instinct to survive. As her father raised his hand once more, a primal instinct took over, a desperate fight-or-flight response that pushed her beyond her breaking point.

With a surge of strength she didn't know she possessed, Y/N seized an object from the nearby table, a heavy glass vase, and swung it with a force that was as much a cry for liberation as it was an act of self-defense.

The vase shattered upon impact, its shards raining down around them like deadly confetti. Her father's eyes widened in shock, a mixture of disbelief and pain crossing his face as blood oozed from the wound on his forehead. He stumbled back, collapsing against the wall, his strength ebbing away.

Y/N stood frozen, her chest heaving, her hands trembling. The room was silent save for their labored breaths and the crackling of shattered glass beneath her feet. The weight of what had transpired settled upon her shoulders, a heavy burden that threatened to suffocate her.

Her father's labored breaths grew quieter, his life slipping away with every passing second. Y/N's heart raced, the reality of her actions crashing down upon her. The man who had tormented her, the source of her pain, lay broken before her.

With a final, rasping breath, her father's eyes closed, and his body went limp. Y/N's eyes remained fixed on him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. Fear, relief, guilt, and an unfamiliar sense of liberation battled for dominance.

She tore her gaze away from his lifeless form, her mind a maelstrom of chaos. Without a second thought, she fled the room, her feet carrying her through the dimly lit corridors of the house she had longed to escape. The night outside welcomed her, the moon a cold witness to her desperate flight.

Y/N Y/L/N ran, her heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of her footsteps. She had done what she thought she could never do – she had broken free from the chains of her tormentor. But as the distance between her and the house grew, the weight of her newfound freedom settled in her chest, mingling with the weight of the past that she carried with her.

In the darkness, with the shadows of the forest embracing her, Y/N Y/L/N was alone, adrift in a world of uncertainty. The echoes of her father's abuse and her own actions reverberated within her, and as she vanished into the night, she left behind a life that was tainted by darkness, stepping into a future that was shrouded in uncertainty.

The forest loomed ahead like a realm untouched by time, a sanctuary where the echoes of Y/N's past could finally begin to fade. The trees whispered secrets as the wind rustled their leaves, and the distant call of a bird carried promises of a new beginning. Y/N's steps were hesitant at first, her heart heavy with the weight of what she had done, yet a glimmer of hope tugged at the edges of her thoughts.

Deep within the heart of the Russian woods, hidden by the dense foliage, stood a cabin that only a select few knew of – a cabin that had once belonged to the man whose presence had cast a shadow over Y/N's life. It was a place that had been both her father's sanctuary and his hidden treasure, a secret he had guarded fiercely.

As Y/N approached the cabin, her fingers trembling, she was struck by an odd mixture of familiarity and detachment. She pushed the heavy wooden door open, revealing a space that held a lifetime's worth of memories. The air was musty, tainted by the years of disuse, yet there was a stillness that offered a respite from the chaos she had left behind.

The cabin's interior was surprisingly well-preserved, a testament to her father's meticulous nature. The walls were adorned with hunting trophies and faded photographs – a stark reminder of the life he had lived beyond the shadows of their home. Y/N's eyes lingered on a picture of a much younger version of herself, a fleeting memory of a time when innocence hadn't been replaced by scars.

She moved through the cabin like a ghost, her fingers trailing along the surfaces as she explored the rooms that had once held secrets she could only guess at. There was a sense of melancholy in the air, a bittersweet realization that this place was, in a way, an extension of her father – a part of him she had never truly understood.

In the bedroom, Y/N found a bed draped in heavy blankets, untouched by time. She sank onto its edge, the weight of her exhaustion crashing over her like a wave. Her thoughts swirled, a chaotic blend of regret, fear, and a spark of something she hadn't felt in years – the stirrings of hope.

With a deep breath, Y/N allowed herself to envision a future that wasn't defined by her father's cruelty. She could feel the chains that had bound her for so long slowly loosening, the scars of her past beginning to fade. Here, in the heart of the forest, surrounded by the whispers of nature, she could begin to heal.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N settled into a routine. She repaired what needed fixing in the cabin, tended to a small garden, and learned to find comfort in solitude. The forest became her confidante, its rustling leaves a gentle reminder that life went on, that healing was possible.

Her days were punctuated by moments of introspection, as she grappled with the enormity of her actions. She had taken a life – a life that had been a source of pain and fear, but a life nonetheless. Guilt gnawed at her, a constant companion that reminded her of the finality of her actions.

---

The forest was a familiar ally to Natasha Romanoff, its shadows weaving tales of secrets and deceit. She moved through the undergrowth with a grace born from years of training, her senses attuned to the subtlest of changes in the environment. But this time, her hunt was personal, driven by an obsession that burned within her like a relentless fire.

Natasha's fixation on Y/N Y/L/N had been consuming her for months. She had watched from the shadows, her expert surveillance skills unveiling the intricate layers of the girl's life. Y/N's existence had been a symphony of pain, a tragic tale of abuse and cruelty at the hands of her own father. Natasha's fascination bordered on the macabre, a dark obsession that defied reason.

As Natasha approached the secluded house, hidden deep within the forest, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. The houses existence had been a well-guarded secret, a sanctuary for Y/N's father where he could escape the world's prying eyes. It was here that Natasha had believed her prey would fall victim to her relentless pursuit.

But the scene that greeted Natasha shattered her expectations. The houses door stood ajar, and the air carried a scent of death, mingling with the forest's earthy fragrance. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon the lifeless form of Y/N's father. Blood stained the floor, a testament to a violent end.

A low chuckle escaped Natasha's lips, the sound carrying a chilling undercurrent. "Impressive," she murmured, her voice laced with a perverse pride. Y/N had taken matters into her own hands, severing the connection to her tormentor with a final, fatal blow. Natasha's dark eyes regarded the scene with a mixture of morbid satisfaction and an eerie admiration for Y/N's resolve.

But Natasha's focus quickly shifted from the corpse to the room itself. She scanned the space, her keen eyes seeking out clues that might illuminate Y/N's whereabouts. It was a twisted treasure hunt of sorts, a quest for the next chapter in this macabre story.

A photo caught Natasha's attention, tucked beneath a stack of papers. She picked it up, her gaze locking onto the image of a younger Y/N, her parents standing beside her. Her father's sinister smile contrasted starkly with Y/N's innocent expression. In the background stood a cabin Natasha was quick to decipher the location of.

The realization hit Natasha like a lightning bolt – this cabin held a significance beyond being a secret refuge. It was a piece of Y/N's past, a place imprinted with the memories of a family torn apart by darkness. The landscape in the photo, the surrounding forest, held the key to Y/N's possible location.

With a calculated movement, Natasha gathered the photographs, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "Well, well, Y/N," she murmured, the words tinged with a twisted affection. "You've left me a breadcrumb trail, haven't you?"

As Natasha stepped out of the house, the moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated the photos in her gloved hand. She studied the landscape captured in the images, her mind racing with the possibilities. Y/N's desperate escape had become a tantalizing challenge, a game of cat and mouse that Natasha relished.

With the photographs tucked safely away, Natasha's gaze turned skyward, the stars above glittering like shards of obsidian. The darkness within her matched the shadows that surrounded her, a reflection of the obsession that had consumed her very soul.

In the distance, the forest whispered its secrets, and Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, answered with a promise. She would find Y/N, no matter how deep into the darkness she had retreated, and in doing so, she would complete a chapter of this twisted tale that had captivated her so.

----

The evening sun cast a warm golden hue across the forest as Y/N Y/L/N moved through her small garden, her jacket pulled tight around her frame. Her hands worked with a practiced ease, plucking the meager harvest of vegetables that had managed to flourish in the greenhouse. The scent of soil and growth filled the air, a reminder that even in the midst of her solitude, life persisted.

Her fingers brushed against the rough leaves of a carrot as she heard a rustling sound nearby. Y/N froze, her heart racing as she turned to face the source of the disturbance. Her gaze darted around, searching for any sign of movement, any indication of who might be lurking in the shadows. But the woods remained still, the only sounds the gentle whispers of the wind.

With a dismissive shake of her head, Y/N convinced herself that it must have been an animal, a rabbit perhaps, darting through the underbrush. She chided herself for letting her imagination run wild, for succumbing to the unease that had been gnawing at her. She focused on her task, determined to gather her food and retreat to the safety of the cabin.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky shifted into hues of orange and pink, Y/N's unease grew rather than abated. A growing feeling of being watched clung to her, casting shadows across her solitude. She moved with caution, every sound magnified in her ears, every rustle of leaves causing her to tense.

Night fell, casting a blanket of darkness over the landscape. Y/N's irritation swelled alongside her unease. She had lived in isolation, finding solace in the silence of the woods. But now, that very silence seemed to mock her, echoing with an eerie emptiness that fed her growing paranoia.

Fueled by a mixture of annoyance and determination, Y/N snatched up her hunter knife – the one weapon she would allow herself to carry. The blade gleamed in the moonlight as she stepped outside, her voice echoing into the night, "Come on out! I'm not scared!"

A heavy silence answered her challenge, and she could almost hear the echo of her own voice reverberating through the trees. But the shadows remained impenetrable, the presence she felt refusing to take shape.

Back in the cabin, Y/N huddled in her jacket, her nerves on edge. The cabin's walls seemed to close in around her, the darkness outside becoming a living entity that whispered secrets and fears. The wind carried with it a sense of impending danger, a dance of shadows that danced just beyond her vision.

Unseen by Y/N, Natasha Romanoff observed with a twisted smile. Her laughter, a soft undercurrent of amusement, mingled with Y/N's challenge. "Poor baby," she murmured, her voice a siren's call of menace. "You think you can stand up to me?"

The darkness concealed Natasha's form, her eyes gleaming with predatory intent. She knew that Y/N's bravado was a mere facade, a mask that hid the vulnerability within. With a mixture of sadistic pleasure and relentless determination, Natasha continued to toy with her prey, the anticipation of the hunt coursing through her veins.

The night air was frigid, its cold fingers creeping through every crack and crevice of the cabin. Y/N Y/L/N stirred, the chill waking her from a restless sleep. Her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dimness as she reached for the blanket that had slipped off during the night. Her fingers found only air, the blanket lying abandoned on the floor.

With a grumble, Y/N reluctantly pushed herself out of bed, her breath forming misty clouds in the cold air. She moved to the fireplace, intent on rekindling the dwindling flames. Her fingers worked deftly, coaxing the embers into life, but just as the fire began to regain its strength, it flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness once more.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, frustration tinging her tone. She pushed herself to her feet, grumbling as she made her way to the wood shack just outside. Y/N's steps were heavy with weariness, her eyes half-lidded as she retrieved her warm clothes and strapped a knife holster to her side.

The moon cast a silvery glow over the landscape as Y/N stepped outside, a flashlight and a bucket in hand. Her movements were sluggish, her mind still foggy with sleep as she ventured into the woods, determined to gather enough wood for the night.

Y/N's steps were slow and deliberate, the crunch of leaves beneath her boots punctuating the stillness of the night. But then, as she walked, a sound cut through the silence – a distant rustling that sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. She swung the flashlight around, its beam slicing through the darkness, revealing nothing.

"Must be my imagination," she muttered to herself, trying to shake off the unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. The words were a mantra, an attempt to rationalize the fear that was beginning to gnaw at her.

The forest seemed to close in around her as she continued to walk, the sound of her footsteps amplified by the silence. She found a spot where smaller pieces of wood could be salvaged, a decision born from a desire to stave off the cold and fatigue that tugged at her.

Just as she reached down to collect a piece of wood, a sudden noise shattered the night. Y/N's heart raced, her eyes darting around as she swung the flashlight in every direction. Nothing. The shadows clung to the trees, revealing no secrets.

"I'm just tired," she muttered, her voice more for herself than for anyone else. She inhaled deeply, exhaling a shaky breath as she tried to steady her nerves. But then, as she took another step, her foot landed on something unexpected, and the ground seemed to disappear from beneath her.

Panic surged through Y/N as she found herself hanging upside down from a tree, her foot ensnared in a tight rope. The world spun around her, dizziness threatening to overcome her. She struggled, her hands reaching for the knife in her holster, the blade glinting in the moonlight.

Desperation lent her strength, and with a surge of effort, she managed to twist her body, the blade slicing through the rope. She fell to the ground with a painful thud, her breath knocked out of her lungs. Coughing and groaning, she tried to catch her breath, her heart racing.

But then, another noise – louder, closer – shattered the night, snapping Y/N into action. She grabbed her knife, her instincts taking over as she sprinted blindly through the woods. Fear lent her speed, her steps fueled by an urgency she had never felt before.

The footsteps behind her seemed to draw closer, a relentless pursuit that fueled her determination to escape. Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps, her vision blurry as she darted between trees and shrubs, driven by a primal need to survive.

In the darkness, Y/N Y/L/N ran, the forest a labyrinth of shadows that offered no respite. Her breath burned in her chest, her muscles ached, but she dared not slow down. The unknown danger that pursued her was a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurked beyond her sanctuary, and in this terrifying game of cat and mouse, her only hope was to outrun the shadows themselves.

Y/N's heart thundered in her chest as she sprinted through the darkness, the echoes of her own footsteps chasing her through the night. Her breath was ragged, her body aching from the exertion, but the fear that propelled her forward refused to relent. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to keep running, to escape the danger that pursued her.

But as her footfalls pounded against the forest floor, the sound of pursuit grew closer, a relentless drumbeat that matched the rhythm of her panic. Her thoughts were a jumble of desperation and survival, the darkness swallowing her every step, her surroundings becoming a blur of shadows and uncertainty.

And then, as if from the depths of the night itself, Natasha Romanoff materialized before her. Y/N's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and terror as the older woman lunged, tackling her to the ground with a force that sent shockwaves of pain through her body. She landed awkwardly, her hand bearing the brunt of the impact, a sickening crack resonating through the forest.

Agony exploded within Y/N, the pain radiating from her broken hand like a burst of white-hot fire. She screamed, her voice echoing through the trees as she desperately tried to push Natasha off of her. But each movement sent fresh waves of pain shooting through her body, her efforts only serving to make Natasha's grip tighten.

"Hello, kotenok," Natasha's voice purred, a chilling contrast to Y/N's cries of pain. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

The words were a cruel taunt, an eerie reminder of the twisted connection that had bound Natasha to Y/N. As Y/N struggled, the pain in her hand intensifying, she managed to summon a surge of strength, pushing Natasha off and scrambling to her feet.

Ignoring the agony that radiated from her broken hand, Y/N stumbled forward, her steps unsteady as she resumed her frantic escape. She yelled back, her voice tinged with anger and fear, "I don't even know who the fuck you are!"

Natasha's laughter followed her, a haunting melody that seemed to merge with the rustling leaves. "Be careful, my little prey," Natasha's voice carried on the wind. "The forest is filled with traps, one worse than the other. I know where they are, but you don't. And I will catch you, no matter what."

Y/N's breathing was ragged, her heart pounding as she forced her body to keep moving. The forest seemed endless, the shadows closing in around her, the darkness itself becoming her adversary. The pain in her broken hand was a constant reminder of her vulnerability, the haunting echoes of Natasha's threats driving her onward.

With each step, Y/N's determination battled against the terror that threatened to consume her. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of desperation, her movements driven by a fierce instinct to survive. But as the forest stretched on, a labyrinth of darkness and danger, Y/N's hope wavered. The pursuit was unrelenting, a twisted dance of shadows that showed no mercy.

And as Y/N fled deeper into the woods, her ragged breaths and the relentless pursuit of an unseen predator became the haunting chorus of a nightmare that seemed to have no end.

Every gasping breath was a searing reminder of her desperation as Y/N Y/L/N fled through the labyrinthine forest. Her footsteps were erratic, her vision blurred by fear and exhaustion. She was a creature of instinct now, driven solely by the primal urge to escape the relentless danger that pursued her.

But as her feet carried her through the darkness, her escape was abruptly halted by a searing burst of pain. Agony shot through her as her foot landed on something solid, a force yanking her to the ground with a brutal force. She cried out, a piercing scream that echoed through the night as her ankle was ensnared in a cruel trap.

Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she struggled to comprehend the reality of her situation. The trap that held her was a grotesque contraption, chains interwoven with daggers that clung to her ankle like a vise, tightening with every futile attempt to escape. Blood dripped from the wound, mingling with the dirt and leaves beneath her.

Her trembling hands fumbled for the knife holster at her side, a desperate hope that she could free herself from this nightmare. But her heart sank as her fingers found only empty air – her knife had been lost in the chaos of her flight. Panic clawed at the edges of her mind as she realized the depth of her vulnerability.

Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps as she fought against the pain, her mind racing for a solution. She attempted to pull on the chain, but it only tightened further, the daggers digging deeper into her flesh. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the dirt and sweat, her cries of agony a testament to the torment she endured.

In the haze of her suffering, a desperate idea formed. Ignoring the pain, Y/N forced herself onto her feet, determined to try and run. But with each step, the daggers embedded in the trap dug deeper, causing a fresh wave of agony to crash over her. She stumbled, her cries of pain echoing through the forest as she crashed to the ground once more.

The forest seemed to close in around her, a cruel reminder of her helplessness. Her body trembled, a mixture of exhaustion, pain, and terror coursing through her veins. The realization that escape was impossible settled over her like a suffocating blanket, snuffing out the last embers of hope.

In the shadows, Natasha Romanoff observed with a sinister satisfaction, her dark eyes glittering with sadistic pleasure. She watched as Y/N's struggles intensified, the girl's cries like music to her ears. She had orchestrated this intricate dance of pain and terror, her traps closing in around Y/N like a spider's web.

Y/N's torment was Natasha's triumph, a twisted testament to her obsession. The forest whispered its secrets, the darkness a canvas for Natasha's cruelty. She reveled in the power she held over Y/N, the thrill of watching the girl's spirit shatter under the weight of her own design.

As Y/N's cries filled the air, Natasha's laughter danced on the wind, a haunting melody that reverberated through the night. The hunt had reached its climax, and in this dance of shadows, Natasha held the strings, manipulating every step of the gruesome ballet that unfolded in the heart of the unforgiving woods.

Y/N's world seemed to collapse around her as the pain of her broken hand and the brutal trap overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with dirt and blood as she sobbed from both the physical and emotional agony. Her voice was raw as she screamed into the night, her words a torrent of anger and desperation. "I did fucking nothing to deserve this! I got rid of the one fucking person who tortured me, and now this? What kind of a sick person are you?"

Through tear-blurred eyes, Y/N saw Natasha Romanoff approaching, a sadistic smirk dancing on her lips. Despite the pain that seared through her ankle and arm, Y/N's determination to fight remained unbroken. She lunged, her body propelled by sheer willpower, but Natasha evaded her with an almost casual grace, a gun suddenly in her hand.

The barrel of the gun was a menacing presence, and Y/N froze, her hands held up in surrender. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of terror and defiance warring within her. Natasha's command, delivered in Russian, cut through the air like a blade. "Get down on your knees, pretty girl."

Y/N's breath hitched as she realized the cruel irony of her situation. The pain in her ankle was excruciating, every movement causing the daggers in the trap to dig deeper. But she had no choice – the threat of the gun and Natasha's sadistic pleasure left her no room for resistance. Slowly, painfully, she sank to her knees, a scream of agony escaping her lips as the movement intensified her suffering.

Her gaze locked onto Natasha's form, her eyes filled with confusion and a lingering spark of recognition. She spoke, her voice wavering with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "Why is the Black Widow trying to kill me? My dad was Hydra, yes, but I never had anything to do with it! I swear, I literally paid with torture for that from him every day!"

In a swift motion, Natasha lunged, pinning Y/N to the ground. Y/N's cries of pain filled the air as Natasha's weight pressed down on her, the world a blur of agony and confusion. Natasha's voice was a cold whisper against her ear, a chilling reminder of the power she held over Y/N. "You never ever refer to me as Black Widow. I am Natasha to you. Or Daddy. But we will get into that soon enough."

Y/N's sobs mingled with the forest's whispers, her fear and pain a symphony that echoed through the night. And then, Natasha's voice shifted, the words spoken in Russian. "I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to make you mine."

The declaration hung in the air like a weight, a realization that shattered Y/N's understanding of her tormentor. Confusion battled against fear, and Y/N's sobbing intensified as her mind struggled to process the implications of Natasha's words.

The darkness enveloped them, a shroud of uncertainty that masked Natasha's true intentions. Y/N's world had been upended, her pain and fear now overshadowed by the enigma of Natasha's presence. As Natasha loomed above her, a puppeteer pulling the strings of her fate, Y/N felt a new kind of terror take hold – the terror of the unknown, the terror of a future dictated by the whims of a woman whose motives remained shrouded in shadows.

[hellsite-detective]

Hellsite Detective in...

The Bad Banana

it was another cool day in Tumblr City. the breeze was blowin' through the streets and the rain was poundin' down hard against my window. the ceilin' fan that hung above me spun slowly and hypnotically as if blown by a wind that wasn't present. as i sat there in my chair, smokin' my cigar and watchin' that fan spin eternally, i grew hungry. thankfully i keep a small fruit bowl in the corner. gettin' up to go grab a bite, i picked a banana out of the bowl. it was a bright yellow, but you might not have known it from the monochromatic filter over the scene. as i began to unpeel it, a voice spoke from the back of my head sayin'...

...hold on...

...go ahead...

...what...

naturally confused, i spun around to see if someone had snuck in while my back was turned. but no, no one was there. however, the words continued to resound in my head. almost like they were callin' me to somethin'. i walked over to the window and took a look outside and the traffic lights at the intersection caught my eye. i looked at them, and looked back at the banana in my hand. that's when it hit me...

see, there was a post i've been lookin' for for ages. in fact, it was the post that inspired me to open my office up in the first place. it was a post comparin' the colors on bananas to the colors on traffic lights. back then, i couldn't find it. but now? i had the experience i needed. i decided to re-open this personal case of mine.

i tucked the banana into my coat and strolled through the rainy streets. i came across that hoppin' joint with jazz music always pourin' out the doors onto the street. the neon sign above the door read "The Search Bar." i headed inside, ready to do some business with my associate, but they were nowhere to be seen. they weren't sittin' at their normal booth. curious, i decided to ask the new robot bartender for help...

say, doll, you know where i can find the Boss?

[Oh! I do apologize. Don Google is upstairs in their office, but they are not seeing any visitors today.]

heh, well we'll see about that, won't we? say, what's your name?

[I am H.A.V.E.N. It stands for Hostess Attending to Virtual and Informational Needs. Essentially, my purpose is to keep track of Don Google's database so they do not have to. I also serve the drinks.]

Haven, huh? nice to meetcha, Haven. i gotta go see the Don though, whether they like it or not. i'll be seein' you later.

i tipped my hat to Haven and walked to the door leadin' to the stairwell. my mind lingered on the robotic hostess, wonderin' what an advanced artificial intelligence construct like her was doin' in this world that had it's basis in 1940's noir, but i wasn't gonna think about it too much. i headed up the stairs and into the Don's office. their goons whipped out their guns and almost took my head clean off, but the big fella themself stopped it.

the office was a far cry from the bustlin' night club on the first floor. where as the club had neon lights and kept things rather dark, probably for the best, the office was more well lit and elegant. it held a more warm atmosphere than the club, but somehow it was more oppressive in here. the walls appeared to be made of wood, bookshelves lined the walls, and a chandelier hung from the ceilin'. there was a carpet in the center of the room that had a kaleidoscope of colors rangin' from blue, red, yellow, and green. and directly across from the door was the desk. mahogany, it seemed, and real fancy too. a giant round window overlookin' the city streets was placed behind it with a large letter "G" formed in the window frames. the Don spun around in their large leather chair and puffed on their cigar.

"'Ey there, Miss Detective. What can I do ya for?"

i'm lookin' for a post involvin' bananas. specifically in relation to traffic lights. you got anythin' like that for me?"

i set the banana i had brought down on the desk and they chuckled at the sight.

"Yea, I think I got what your lookin' for."

with a wave of their hand, one of their goons fetched a file from off one of the shelves and brought it over to them. they thumbed it open with one hand, the other hand draggin' on the cigar. they slid it across the desk.

"This what your lookin' for?"

and there it was. the post that started it all. it had finally come full circle. i grabbed the file eagerly and began to leave the room, but the Don wasn't finished with me yet.

"'Ey, Miss Detective! Don't think I've forgotten about that little favor you owe me..."

i stopped dead in my tracks. preparin' myself for the worst, i stood there frozen. i couldn't even turn around to look at them. but shockingly, the conversation took a different turn.

"I'm not lookin' to cash that in just yet. Just be on the look out for a call, got it? I'm lookin' forward to our partnership."

i couldn't see them, but i knew their snide smile was bearing down on me at that moment. fear filling my body, i left the lion's den and went back to my humble office to file my prize away. as i did so, my stomach rumbled...

damn it. i left the banana with the Don...

Post Case: Closed