#i should get all of th- *gunshots

[noriakicatkyoin]

the evangelion manga is so sick and fuckign evil for being only 5 volumes if u get the three in one editions thats SOOOOO EVILLLLLLLLLL

[joonberriess]

animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th

⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant

⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k

⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆

You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.

The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.

Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.

Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”

“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”

“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..

The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.

“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.

“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.

The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.

And to think that it had been just another random day..

You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.

And that’s what you intended.

+

“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.

By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.

You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.

A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.

You were far too deep to stop now.

You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.

“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.

So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.

“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.

The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.

With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.

“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.

Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.

“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.

As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.

Nothing happens until you hear it..

A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.

You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.

The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.

Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.

The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.

You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.

You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.

When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.

He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.

It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.

“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.

“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.

Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.

He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.

“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.

Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.

He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.

“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.

You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.

“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.

You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.

“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.

Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.

“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.

You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.

Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.

“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.

“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.

Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.

“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”

“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.

“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.

After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.

Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?

“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.

“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.

Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.

He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.

“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.

“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”

You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.

You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.

The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”

“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.

“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.

You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”

“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.

“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.

You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.

“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.

“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.

The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.

Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

+

You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.

“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.

The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.

“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.

You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.

Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.

“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.

“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.

Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.

Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”

When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.

“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.

You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.

They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.

You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.

The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”

“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.

Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.

Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.

A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.

Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.

Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.

The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.

You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.

+

5 months later..

Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.

It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.

They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.

Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.

You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.

“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.

Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.

At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.

Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.

You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.

Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.

The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.

“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.

You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.

“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.

He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”

You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.

“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.

Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.

You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.

“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.

“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.

You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.

“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.

Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.

Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.

“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.

You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.

“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.

Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.

You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.

You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.

The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.

“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.

You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.

“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.

“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.

Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.

You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.

“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.

“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.

That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.

It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.

The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.

The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.

When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.

You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.

Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.

“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.

Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.

His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.

“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.

You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..

+

Something’s off…very off.

For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.

“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”

Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”

You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”

Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.

You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.

“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.

“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.

Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”

“On it!”

You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.

“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.

“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.

Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.

You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.

“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.

You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.

“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”

Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.

“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.

Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.

“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”

Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”

You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..

“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.

You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.

Please wait for me..

+

The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.

“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don���t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.

It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.

The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.

“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.

The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”

Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.

You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.

“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.

You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.

“G’night pretty.”

.

Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.

Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.

“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”

His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.

Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.

“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.

You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”

Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.

You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.

“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.

He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”

His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”

You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.

“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.

Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.

.

The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.

Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.

“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.

You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.

Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”

You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”

“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.

Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”

You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.

The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”

And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.

As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.

The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.

Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.

“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.

Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.

Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.

“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.

“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.

Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”

The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.

Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”

“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.

You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.

‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.

“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.

You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.

“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.

Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.

“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.

“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”

+

Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.

With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.

“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.

Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.

Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.

You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.

But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[halloween m.list]

[morbidmorbid]

loser scud coming in his pants agenda !!

a/n: this whole thing was me laying in bed and being like, “omg scud getting incredibly turned on and possibly even creaming his pants by you like pretend fucking him through his clothes.” like that’s all. that one thought became this whole mess.. yikes. also i am obviously on board with scud being into pegging it just makes sense. ok enjoy this for i am very embarrassed and ashamed that i even wrote it, do not look at me.

cw: dry humping, sub!scud, small pinch of dirty talk, smoking

the pellets of the rain become only slightly more apparent when the door creaks open, paints the windows down the buildings hall and then it muffles again.

scud looks heavy and full in his clothes, drenched and it trickles to his pant legs, to his boots and puddles at the floor beneath his shoes. you hear the squelch before you see it. hands dirtied with paints and oils, messied down to your knees.

life was easy when not faced with the outside; of a sort of tranquility that came with the stroke of a brush against canvas paper. the blissful. though chosen, ignorance against what transpired in the world beyond your craft. of building a box amidst the throes of war, closing in and feeling as it rocks and quakes you, but what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

and there was a simplicity that comes with that perspective that could be deemed imprudent almost. when death and destruction would come knocking—or rather bursting through the shards of the windows or displaying itself into gnarly teeth and even more vicious bite—there would be no prior preparation, simply the demise itself. and there was an okay acception with that probability that scud told you he’d grown to loathe. around his cigarette he’d ask you genuinely, and if i lose ya’, then what? and your fighting words: ‘you won’t.’

and when scud retreated because he was too unversed when conveying himself—inproficient in a system where he was expected to carry too many reject emotions—there was guilt evident for you. an irk of it that created an itch where you couldn’t scratch. just want ya’ ready for whatever, his words were so simple, yet so upfront. and he’d kissed you then, buried himself in your neck to seal his statement.

things were like that for a while, until there was no more imagining and death was actually in your face—in the rapid thrum in your chest, in the blood splashed across your skin and the harrowing, echoing gunshot ringing in the air. when blade had saved you, given you a second chance at life in the sake of scud, a decision of to merely live or survive had fueled a riot inside of you. you’d chosen survival and scud had assisted you with weaponry.

your knife, long and seethed, had been tucked back into its pocket upon seeing him at the front door.

“tired of me already? tryna kill me?” he jokes and haphazardly begins to peel out of his wet clothes. it’s a mess of carelessness and he chuckles through an apology when you suck in a breath in regards to the mess.

“i wasn’t a second ago,” you say and approach him. scud swings two arms out for an embrace, instead met with your two hands striping him of his flannel that hadn’t taken as much rain impact as the rest of his clothing. “until you decided to undress yourself right here at the door.”

scud, ever so needy, juts his lower lip out in what should be a pout, only it’s tired. “undress myself,” scud emphasizes with a smile that lacks purity. it’s ridiculous that it’s the only bit he’d heard. “geez, i’m not even all the way in the door yet and you’re already—“

“josh.” a chuckle follows.

scud cackles and eventually comes out of everything soaked, left in a t-shirt, briefs and socks.

the rain persistently drags on. it pitter-patters like a melody when met with the now silence of the apartment. this is a typical; of creaking floor boards singing until tunes play from your speaker, until the tv runs marathons throughout the day, until the window is cracked in the spring and the wind sings through the slits. those minute things made up the void of scud not being there.

but when he was—“thought about ya’ all freakin’ day.”—he was all over you. scud exhales while he fishes his crumpled up pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans on the floor.

before he can surrender you to the sofa or the bed or anywhere comfortable enough to dump his body weight against you, you make comfortable just in case. going and slipping out of your dirtied jeans and pulling into a shirt that isn’t as restricting. and when you emerge from the bathroom, he is propped against the frame of the bedroom door with his lighter to the bud.

“did ya’ hear me?” he asks. when you approach him finally, you rise to kiss him dead on his face, only he’s quicker and catches your lips instead. it’s short, sweet, not enough for him if the draw to his eyebrows is telling. he hums in a probing manner in addition to his question, avid in looking for an answer.

“what?” you say in false confusion. you need to hear him say it again for your own amusement.

scud is so zealous, it’s an interesting thing. when you wind around the bed to get seated, he follows you like a puppy, trailing behind with his socked feet and rain damp hair. and he sits so impossibly close, a suffocating lack of space, thigh to thigh. though it’s expected and completely usual, so when he sinks in and leans over to bury a nose in the junction of your chest and neck, you embrace him.

“said i thought about you today,” the words are pressed tender and cold against your skin. scud seems to have abandoned his smoke for intimacy, cigarette pinched between his fingers held a distances away by his extended arm. “all good things. great things, actually.”

you pull a candy from the scattered pile on the nightstand. “right. so i’m guessing things are running smoothly at the shop, then?” you reach out for his cigarette and scud doesn’t fight to keep it. instead he watches as you adjust your hold with it, watches as you tease him into opening up for it and taking an inhale with the guidance of your hand.

his eyes dilate a bit then, looking eased. “as smooth as they can be.”

“blade treating you well?” you pull it away and then he’s retrohaling it.

“mhm,” he’s idly responding now, disengaged where the conversation leads but seemingly completely taken with what he knows comes next.

“gonna stare all night or what?” like a feline, you give him an opening and he is on you in mere seconds. he’s a man in your lap, much larger than yourself.

the night actually begins here; with him in your lap high and needy, dazed and mesmerized by the simplicity of you aiding his smoke. this is where it starts and you’re left unsure whose hands the blood is on.

inhale. there’s a piece of candy held between your teeth, taunting, and you tap fingers against scud’s jaw to which he opens up. slipping it to him teeth to teeth, kissing his lips closed, kissing them again as they consume it. exhale. scud outwardly swears. his chest rises and falls in quick succession, hips jerking where they sit. “woah, easy.” you mock laugh in acknowledgment to his actions, free hand stilling him at the thigh.

“‘kay, fuck you for that,” and he both means it and doesn’t.

scud is best like this. when his worn fingers aren't dirtied and he's not face deep in chancy enginery. when he's lax, but pent up all the same, when he's not thinking because he doesn't have to anymore, because now you sit and pick out the nasty and the swarming bits wedged into the mush in his brain. when he lets you.

so you take advantage in the way you bring a hand up into his hair, in the way you un-tossle the frays, put them back in place but contrarily begin to take him apart. scud comes back for more with his face pressed against yours. he’s open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, then the apple of your cheek, then your ear. over and over and it’s like a pattern that he’s following.

you bring a hand down to his abdomen, feeling the fabric of his boxers against your palm. “well?” you drawl with a smile. scud has an eager hand placed on top of your idle one—like he’s ready to get what’s left of his clothes off on your call. “you never told me what you thought about.”

scud chuckles against your skin. one, two, three more presses of his lips before he speaks. “ain’t it obvious?”

“wanna hear it, smart ass.”

scud, ever so persistent in his kissing bombardment, places one on the corner of your lips, takes some of the sweet and sour with him. it has your fingertips squeezing around his waist, broad in your palm. in result, his muscles there constrict noticeably, fighting to still his own body.

he has never necessarily been shy or guarded with his words. he was the things others couldn’t say, reeking of envied self-assurance. so it’s nothing when he speaks unashamedly, says, “thought about when you fuck me with your strap thing or whatever.” and, god, while he was typically blatant at the mouth, this was something else.

when he pulls back from you, looks you in the eyes and tells you he wants it with his mere gaze, you maneuver around his back for a brisk moment to stub out his cigarette. your two free hands envelope him entirely; warm palms cupping his jaw and rubbing against the growing stubble that resides there, and he’s bringing both hands up to press against your ribcage.

“and ya’ know somethin’ else?” he begins again with a poorly concealed grin. his hips against yours start a languid roll. “wanked it so hard and so much today thinkin’ about it that i fucked up my wrist. had to switch ‘em halfway.” his words are low and slow like the blink of his eyes.

“what the hell, josh.” you snort and run slow thumbs over the swell of his cheeks, move them higher to push back the strands of his hair.

and he responds with an unenunciated ‘yep’ and a slow peck to your lower lip. it’s sweet, but lacks innocence. a gesture of permission, a question, an impatience that you can feel when he actually seeks out his pleasure. when you curtly nod and return his kiss this time like he’d been feening for, and he takes it heavily.

he’s rock solid where he rolls against you.

you consider crude reciprocation, but wait it out in a sick need to see him try to get himself off. that never proved a difficult task, scud could be such a slut whenever he wanted to be. many times you’d pulled orgasms out of him while he remained clothed, heaving chest and wandering hands when he’d come undone from handjobs through his thin sweats.

of previous instances of having him laid pliant against the sheets while you rubbed his pert nipples raw over his t-shirt and he had made such a big mess of himself over that.

he swears on your lips then and licks at your teeth.

you make to fuel his earlier musings that seemed to had blissfully plagued him. “don’t you miss it?” your strap: long, thick and pink in color—scud’s personal preference. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” a week isn’t a long while, but for how often scud subdues you to sex it seems like an eternity even to you.

he’s becoming looser with every passing thrust, rutting against your upper thighs with an almost untamed vigor. his hands are squeezing and squeezing, digging into your waist and the knowledge that he needs that to stay grounded right here outweighs the sting.

his body responds before he can piece together the words, cock leaking through the fabric and painting his boxers a deeper blue. it’s amusing to see it build up so rapidly, like he’d been waiting all day for this and he has. watching as he gets himself off in such a lewd way and knowing that this would not suffice twists a knot into your stomach. a hungry one that only forms in the light of making sure scud is taken care of, even if it takes until the world stops its spinning.

you grip his face in one demanding hand. “hey, don’t you?” you ask again, bringing him back and watching his eyes glaze over. it always came down to bringing him back. he runs on batteries, it seems, and no amount of twisting, turning or demanding can shut his rutting hips down, only the switch wedged deep into his spine.

“yes, yes,” he admits without qualms. never any qualms with him. “s’all i ever fuckin’ think about.”

“can you show me how well you ride it?” a feigned moral question. “please?”

scud comes to a slow with a doltish stare. “but you don’t even have—“

“i know that.”

a shame to make him think when he no longer held the capacity to. you know it from how low his eyelids now sit, how kiss swollen his lips have swelled, how hard his covered cock feels against your belly. and he doesn’t stop even when faced with a task that he hasn’t quite picked up on yet, turns minutely to mouth at the hand placed on his cheek. you let him for a moment, indulge him even in teasing the thumb against ready lips—open and pliant lips that part with anticipation. in between your legs throb looking at him.

babysitting his weight, you move hands to underneath his thighs, lifting him only to bring him back down. it lacks that gentleness that you are outside of this, only a nasty counterpart that is produced from a seed of scud’s sensuality. he’s a punched out gasp at that, always very reactive.

“felt that?” and it’s entirely hypothetical, but it’s that tidbit that usually gets him going in the first place; the sexual imagery of something he wants so badly just at the tip of his fingers. “you always take the first one so well.”

scud lets a slippery wet moan pass, chest puffed up in hotness, and before he gets comfortable like this, “come on, up.” you order and he always complies. he complies in lifting up slightly on his knees and pressing back down, rutting and rubbing on you and against you after meeting your hips again—a messy method he’s creating.

he becomes frantic with it then after two or three test runs, going up and coming down hard, all weight and cock and beauty. the wholeness of his face begins to redden with overexertion. it reaches his ears that are trickling with sweat, his hairline moist all the same. then he grunts, “i feel it, fuck, i feel it,” into the hand that he brings over his mouth.

“you’re just the prettiest thing,” scud runs well on exterior flatteries. “so manly, but so pretty.” when his back arches as he comes down against your pelvis for the umpteenth time, the signs are all there. “getting ripped apart by my big cock.”

“oh, holy fuck.” he cries around the fist shoved between teeth, all saliva and red knuckles. “makin’ me feel—“

you don’t give him room. “you gonna cum?” because he’s a mix of swears and a shift of rubbing and riding you, looking drunk from being taken—moreso the thought of you taking him. it’s such a lewd thing to get off too, something so niche, something so phantom, but it wholly gets to him.

he begins to plead now, greedy. “touch me.”

“no, you’re almost there. come on, give me a good one.” because he absolutely can and he absolutely will simply by how taken apart he currently is.

scud could reach octaves even you couldn’t at the peak of his pleasure. the curses against his lips, the whines abbreviated by how rough he bounces down onto you, the groans when met with restricting but relieving friction against the tip of his bubbling cock. all of that tipped off with your permission to absolutely destroy himself in your space is seemingly enough because his back bows forwards—this is the sign, the siren before the tornado—and he cums right there long and hard.

desperate hands grip tightly into your shirt, muscles in his stomach convulsing with each spurt. it’s the wet patch growing at sharp speeds, load after load shamelessly untouched. with him there’s always so much to receive, so much he gives you, how he seems to never be satiated.

so for a while he rides the peak of it while you kiss his ‘o’ parted lips, patient with a coiling in the pit of your own stomach.

[amhrosina]

Jealousy (Frank Castle x Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM

A/N: A little Matt Murdock x reader if you squint. Thanks for requesting, nonnie! I didn't know if you wanted smut, but it wasn't requested, so I just added a little baby interaction at the end that sort of alludes to smut after the end of the fic.

Requests are open!

Request: Could you do one where yn is working with Red but he doesn’t know she’s married to Frank until he shows up and when he finds out he confess to yn that he likes her and frank get jealous and overprotective

Summary: Frank overhears Matt asking you out and sets him straight.

Warnings: a teeny baby tiny little bit of barely smut at the end

Hell’s Kitchen was abnormally quiet as you waited for Red to finish his patrol of the area. No sirens, no screaming, not even the occasional gunshot to keep you on your toes. Your night was rapidly approaching an early end. Not that you minded, though. Frank was back home, patiently waiting for you to crawl into bed next to him.  

Even though he always insisted that you don’t worry about him, you knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he could hold you in his arms and physically see that you were unharmed. It was the same when the roles were reversed, too. When Frank was the one running around all night, you spent most of the time pacing around the living room, pretending to read a book until he came home. 

Your breath fogged in front of you. The November air was crispy in your lungs, and you couldn’t help but bounce from foot to foot as you did a 360 sweep around the roof. What the hell was taking Red so long? You could’ve circled the entirety of Hell’s Kitchen twice by now.  

The hair on the back of your neck prickled as a light thud sounded behind you. You waited for any indication that told you not to turn around and kick the person's lights out.  

“Hey, Killer.”  

Matt’s voice was gruff, but soft. You instantly relaxed, shoulders dropping in relief as you turned around. 

“What’s up, Red? You find anything?”  

“Nothing important.” He responded, shrugging his shoulders. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. Matt’s behavior was alarmingly different than you were used to. Typically, Matt’s demeanor was blunt, sometimes arrogant, and a little bit on the cocky side. Tonight, he was pacing the roof, shrugging his shoulders, and he even looked a little anxious. 

“Red? You good?” 

“Let me take you out to dinner.” 

His words were rushed, pushed together into one breath and said so quickly that you almost missed it altogether. You gaped at him, waiting for him to say something else. The silence between you hung heavy. 

“What?” You finally ask, not knowing what else to say. How were you going to explain to Matt that you couldn’t possibly get dinner with him on account of your VeryBigAndScary husband. 

“Let me take you out,” he began walking towards you, “as Matt, not the Devil. You’re strong and you’re smart and you’re beautiful and I would feel like an idiot if I didn’t at least try to offer myself up to you. Will you let me? Take you out, I mean.”  

You sucked in a breath.  

“Matt, I-” 

A loud chuckle behind you had you whirling around. Matt was immediately defensive, stepping in front of you to shield you from whoever meant harm. You knew that chuckle though, and you knew Matt should probably be running in the opposite direction instead of towards it. 

Frank was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smile dangerous.  

“Frank, this doesn’t concern you.” The softness of Matt’s voice from moments ago was long gone, replaced by the low voice of the Devil. 

Frank’s smile grew wider, and you rolled your eyes. It was like watching a cat taunt the mouse it was 3 seconds away from devouring.  

“It doesn’t concern me, Red? When you’re asking my wife out on a date?” 

You groan and run your hands over your face.  

“What are you doing here, honey?” You mumble, shaking your head. 

“I had a feeling, sweetheart. It’s a good thing I came, too, or else you’d be breaking Red’s heart over here.” 

“Honey? Wife? What the hell is going on here? You two know each other?” Matt’s voice was rapidly rising as he looked between you and Frank.  

You ignore Frank, whose overprotectiveness was starting to grate on your nerves. You were perfectly capable of turning someone down.  

“Matt, uh...” You pause, searching for the right words, “Frank is my husband. We’ve been married for almost three years. Well, technically I’m married to Pete Castiglione, but you know, semantics...” You trailed off, hoping Matt wouldn’t be too angry about your secret. 

“What?” Matt was thoroughly confused, voice rising to a pitch you didn’t know he was capable of. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  

The question was aimed at you, but Frank answered before you could respond.  

“I told her not to. I didn’t want her being tied to me during that legal shit we had to go through last year.” 

“It’s been 9 months since you were pardoned, Frank. What the...what the fuck, guys?” 

Matt sounded genuinely betrayed, but you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of your chest.  

“Matt, I’m so sorry, but once your business with Frank was finished, I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

“Something like, ‘Oh hey Matt, by the way, I’m married to the guy who chained you to a water tower that one time.’” 

Matt had a small grin on his face now, and you sagged with relief. He wasn’t mad. Frank moved closer to you, pulling your back into his front as he mumbled into your ear, “He deserved it.” 

“I most certainly did not.”  

Frank ran his hand up your arm, following the upwards slope of your shoulder until his fingers rested lightly on your pulse. His other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a tight hold. You gasped at his forwardness, especially in front of Matt.  

“Red, fuck off, will you?” Frank’s words were thrown in Matt’s direction, who was doing a terrible job at looking like he wasn’t listening. 

“Sorry, Matty.” You mumble, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

Matt let out a tight, “mhm”, before jumping from the ledge and disappearing into the night. 

“That was mean, Frank.” You sigh, resting your head on his chest. 

“He was hitting on you. I think my reaction was pretty tame. I could’ve bashed his head into that brick wall.” 

“He wasn’t hitting on me. He was asking me out. It was...gentlemanly. And quit being jealous.” You swatted at his chest. 

“I’m not allowed to be jealous when a guy asks my wife out on a date?” 

You rolled your eyes, turning to head down the fire escape when Frank’s arms tightened around you. He peppered kisses down your neck, softly nipping at the sweet spot below your ear. His hand trailed down your stomach, stopping just below your waistline where his fingers began to play with the hem of your underwear. 

“Frank,” you gasped, “what if Matt can still hear us?” 

His voice was a low, silky coil in your gut.  

“Let him. Now, stop talking about other men when my hands are so close to your-” 

A loud clash of metal from a few blocks away cut him off. Matt could definitely still hear you. Frank let out a bark of laughter before devouring you whole, and you couldn’t do anything but try to quiet your moans until you were sure Matt couldn’t possibly hear you anymore. 

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv

[raina-at]

Sweet

The thing John secretly loves most about 221 Baker Street is that you never know what to expect when you open the front door.

Some days, it's toxic smells. Some days, it's gunshots. Sometimes it's silence, or the muted sound of the telly, or quiet conversation. Sometimes it's achingly beautiful violin music, sometimes it's screeching that sounds like someone's torturing a cat. Sometimes icy silence is punctuated by barbed insults in posh accents.

Today, as John opens the door, he's greeted by the sight of Mrs Hudson hugging Sherlock, and Sherlock letting it happen while trying and failing to look as if he minds the hug.

"What's all this, then?" John asks, amused.

Mrs Hudson releases Sherlock and turns to John to explain. "Oh, John, dear, Sherlock spent all morning helping me get rid of my old mattress. I ordered a new one, but the chap who delivered it wouldn't take my old one, even though I paid for disposal as well. That company is getting a strongly worded complaint!"

"And Sherlock helped you transport the mattress?`" John asks, raising a questioning eyebrow at his flatmate, who glares at him, murderous.

"Well, no, but he scared that delivery man into taking the mattress anyway. I think after Sherlock was through with him, he would have taken my entire sitting room set if I asked him to," Mrs Hudson says, beaming at Sherlock with a motherly sort of pride. "Come to think of it, I should have let him take the two boxes of old clothes and books I've wanted to throw out."

"A missed opportunity indeed," Sherlock says, obviously eager for the conversation to end. "Well, Mrs Hudson, glad to be of service, but I need to get back to work, killers to catch, crime to detect, and all that."

"Yes, of course, dear, but thank you again for helping me put the new mattress on the bed and flipping my bed frame to fit it better. I'm making scones and bringing some up for you later," Mrs Hudson says and pats Sherlock on the arm one last time before vanishing back into 221A.

John just looks at Sherlock, eyebrows raised.

"Shut up," Sherlock mutters, then turns around and walks up the stairs to their flat.

John follows. "That was very sweet of you."

Sherlock pulls the door to 221B open with unnecessary force. "I'm not sweet. I'm never sweet."

John holds up his hands in a defensive gesture as he walks into the kitchen to stick the kettle on. "Sorry for pointing out a nice thing you did for someone you clearly care about," John says, rolling his eyes as he gets the mugs out of the cupboard.

"I don't care about Mrs Hudson," Sherlock says, flinging himself onto the sofa, apparently preparing for a magnificent sulk. "I indulge her because it means she keeps the rent low and supplies us with biscuits."

John sighs and flicks the kettle on. "Yes, yes, I know, caring isn't an advantage, love is for the weak, et cetera...," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face in a nameless, formless frustration.

"This bothers you," Sherlock says, suddenly behind John in the kitchen, watching him with the intense scrutiny usually reserved for especially interesting corpses. "Why?"

Because the things you do and the things you say are in constant conflict, and it's doing my head in, John thinks. Because you push me away and pull me in and push me away and pull me in again, and I feel like a fish you drag out of the ocean just to fling back again when you discover it wasn't what you wanted after all. Because I think you care about me, but you hate yourself for it, and that makes me feel like shit sometimes.

John finally settles on an answer that is both true and a bit less gut-wrenchingly revealing. "I don't understand why you can't admit that you're not a complete arsehole."

Sherlock narrows his eyes at John, in full deduction mode now. "Because I am a complete arsehole, and you're just unable to accept this about me, because you've turned me into the cause you fight for, and you need me to conform to some idiotic standard of behaviour so you can justify all the things you do for me. And frankly, I refuse to alter my behaviour to better fit your expectations of me. That sounds like a you problem."

John feels a bit like Sherlock punched him in the gut. Like he reached into John's chest and squeezed the air out of his lungs. Because he's right, of course. And wrong. John needs Sherlock to be a halfway decent person because they’ve entwined their lives to a point of frankly unhealthy codependency, yes, but he also needs to know whether Sherlock does have a heart somewhere because he's hopelessly, bottomlessly, headlessly in love with him and if Sherlock really is a sociopath who's just using John for kicks, John's entire sense of self will collapse. "Does it occur to you,” John says, hating the way his voice sounds, hoarse and unsteady with emotion, “that the people who have the misfortune of loving you might occasionally want to know that you at least care whether they live or die?”

Sherlock scoffs. “Nobody loves me,” he says, the disdain clear in his voice. 

“Well, I do,” John bites out between clenched teeth, before his brain catches up with his mouth. Oh, shit. Great, Watson, now you’ve said the quiet part out loud.

Sherlock looks gobsmacked, and John feels a brief burst of satisfaction that he shut up Mr Punchline for once, but then he realises that he is in no way prepared for Sherlock’s reaction - kind rejection if he’s lucky, outright scorn if he’s not - and decides he needs some air. “I’m going for a walk.”

“John-” Sherlock starts, but John holds up his hand. 

“Don’t wait up.”

*-*

John doesn’t know how much time has passed, how long he’s been sitting on this bench, watching the ducks paddle by. He only knows by the time Sherlock sits down next to him, he’s very cold and it’s nearly dark.

Sherlock hands John his jacket, and John wishes he was petty enough to tell Sherlock to go fuck himself. But Sherlock didn’t actually do anything, except failing to conform to John’s wishes, and it’s not his fault that John is so in love with him he can’t see straight anymore. 

“Thank you,” he says, taking the jacket.

Sherlock doesn’t answer. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and looks out over the water. Silence descends, it’s not their usual comfortable, companionable quiet, it’s a silence of many words unsaid. But John has a feeling that Sherlock is working up the courage to say something, and he knows the best way to get Sherlock to clam up is to prod, so he stays silent and decides to wait Sherlock out. He came after John, after all, so it’s reasonable to assume he has something to say.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Sherlock finally says, still looking out over the water.

John waits a moment, but when it’s clear Sherlock doesn’t intend to continue, John asks, “Do what?”

Sherlock makes a frustrated gesture between the two of them. “This. Any of this.” He exhales loudly, another obvious sign of his frustration. “I-”

“It’s okay, Sherlock,” John says, deciding to let Sherlock off the hook. Apparently, he’s getting the nice rejection speech, but he doesn’t want to hear even that. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it. Married to your work and all that.”

Sherlock makes a frustrated sound, a bit like a growl. He gets up and starts to pace in front of the bench. “I don’t do this, John. I don’t care about people. I don’t care if I hurt their feelings, I don’t care if they leave.”

“Yes, fine, I get it, no need to rub it in,” John mutters, halfway to angry again. 

“That’s just the point, John,” Sherlock yells,  “You don’t get it! I’ve never had this problem before, and then you walked in with your interesting limp and your ugly jumpers and your perfect tea, with your way of looking at me like I’m brilliant, and now I’m running after my stupid flatmate because he told me he loved me and then ran out before I could say it back!”

“I- What?” John looks at Sherlock, completely stunned. He can’t have heard that right. “You-”

Sherlock sighs and comes to a halt before John, looking down at him with a serious, almost somber expression. “It’s come to my attention lately that I would be absolutely destroyed if anything happened to you,” he says quietly, and John doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Sherlock is talking about the pool. “And after a lot of contemplation, I’ve come to the conclusion that I love you. But as I expressed before, I don’t know how to do this. My experience with romantic relationships isn’t extensive, and has led me to think they’re overrated. But since you have so far proven the exception to every rule I’ve ever established in my life, I think it would be a scientifically sound decision to at least try out whether we’re compatible in this area, since we seem to be so well suited for each other in every other way.”

John blinks, too surprised to completely grasp what exactly Sherlock is saying. “I have no idea what you just said, but I think it was good?”

Sherlock’s lips curl into a small amused smile John has never seen him giving anyone else. He holds out a hand, and John lets himself be pulled to his feet. “I said, I love you, want to snog?”

“Oh,” John says, feeling his lips stretch into an answering smile, the first stirrings of happiness tingling through his body, “Well, since you asked so nicely…” 

He pulls Sherlock in at the same time as he leans down, and they meet in the middle for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“Successful experiment, I’d say,” John mutters, grinning like an idiot now and not caring one bit.

“We need more data,” Sherlock says, winding his arms around John.

“Definitely,” John answers and leans in for another kiss. 

Thanks for the prompt and the tag @calaisreno. Just getting this done before collapsing into bed after a looooong day, so sorry if there's any horrid mistakes.

Tagging a few people: @keirgreeneyes @jrow @meetinginsamarra @thetimemoves @lisbeth-kk @khorazir @shiplocks-of-love @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely and anyone else who wants to play.

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - seven

pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice

word count: 2.6k

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes

a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3

six | series masterlist

Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing. 

“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something. 

“What did you say?”

Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”

“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat. 

“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”

Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”

“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out. 

“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria. 

“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife. 

“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless. 

As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off. 

The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction. 

Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours. 

Who is next?

Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room. 

She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room. 

That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve. 

Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago. 

Weeks ago. 

Months ago?

Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat. 

She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone. 

What would James do to Klaus?

Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it. 

However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James. 

Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s. 

Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating. 

The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips. 

James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait. 

Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration. 

Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her. 

His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod. 

I’ll be okay.

Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back. 

Be careful. 

She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love. 

Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing. 

“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”

“You’re far worse.”

James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”

Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion. 

“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”

She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”

“You won’t have.”

“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”

She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move. 

In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world. 

However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes. 

“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts. 

“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.

“I know that look.” 

She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers. 

“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”

“Are you my White Wolf then?”

James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”

“On?”

“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck. 

Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light. 

“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways. 

She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”

“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug. 

James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so. 

“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him. 

“Spite.”

[forestshadow-wolf]

do you have any roach fic recs... any ship, any plot, any length, i literally have no preferences other than /roach/ i need more roach centric fics in my life....

I DO!

but first you should check out this post from @/boxofthings they have quite a few Roach centric fic recommendations. however it has been about six-ish months since then so I'll just add ones from recently

"you are a memory" by withyourrythm

"It takes 8 days of nursing an infected gunshot wound at his thigh, of trying to keep Roach breathing through the nights, before Ghost realizes that there is no help coming. Then, it’s time to move on."

"Roaching Around" by KDFoxbug

"Roach is captured by the enemy and becomes buggier"

"GhostRoach teehee :3" series by ghostroacharemybabies

Filled with a bunch of little stories I wrote of GhostRoach. Some sad, some happy. It’s just a mix of a bunch of emotions.

"Candy shop" by littlehorusaximand

roach is down bad for his lieutenant and his captain, and they accidentally find out.

"serendipity" by bravo six going queer (cornerdreams)

Roach gets back from a mission involving ice shelves, a compromising of his captain, and a harrowing snowmobile chase. Ghost is just happy he came back home safe. Both of them do a little reflecting.

"Just one kiss" by grechka_zhest

“Hey, L.T. ,” Roach muttered, licking the spoon and wincing right after at the taste of metal and canned meat, if it can even be called one, on his tongue. "Hm?", the lieutenant’s voice was tired and quiet, like Roach's own. It's nothing new. The sergeant quickly licked his dry lips, covered in small cuts. "Ever kissed before?", Sanderson asked with a grin in his voice. He himself doesn’t know whether this was supposed to be a joke or an insult. But behind the malicious grin there was a lively interest. Ghost chuckled, placing the now empty can on the ground, next to the sole of his boots.

"Memento Mori" by Anonymous

Roach got his callsign from being an unkillable insect with very little self preservation instinct. Unfortunately the rest of the team can be a little like that too, to the detriment of each other.

"How (not) to ask someone to marry you" by kkyso

Gaz needed to find a quick way to propose to Roach, but all his ideas seemed to go wrong. Until Soap has the brilliant and absurd idea at the same time, Making Gaz rethink the whole plan.

"These Bones Are Broken" by fixfoxnox

Roach nearly loses someone and it results in a momentary break in his carefully constructed mask.

"Two sergeants, one lieutenant" by Roach_Simp

Gaz, Ghost, Price, Soap and Roach go on a mission to get intel, finds out the mission was a set up then Roach gets kidnapped and tortured before they find him and then Roach, Ghost and Soap cuddle before it turns into spice. :3

"Roach" by MorningGlory30

"I promise I'll come back in once piece." After the death of his father, Gary "Roach" Sanderson thought that he should join the military just like his dad. He never really gave it much thought and as a seven year old, it never meant much to him. As he grew older, he came to like the idea of joining the military--of doing something better for his country than just being another rugby player. He joined as soon as he graduated and had worked hard in the SAS to be picked for an elite group of soldiers. Serving under Captain John Price and Captain "Soap" MacTavish wasn't the easiest thing to do because of how high the expectations were but it was something that he could handle. Even in the toughest times, Roach knew he could make it out of any dangerous situation and keep the promise that he made to his older brother.

"Raindrops" by TheCalmCreature

Gary doesn't seem to be fine after a mission. Simon checks up on him. written for the prompt: "[GhostRoach] Maybe they tend to each others injuries after a mission or they just need to make sure the other is ok? a happy/comfort ending”

"FNG... or something..." by KairaKara101

Gary knew those dreams were something strange yet it filled an empty part of his soul. There was something off about him. A bad luck charm perhaps? Gary really wished he knew why he was always the FNG. This time... being the FNG sucked. But past (?) collides with present. Once an ODST always an ODST. And you know what those ODST always said? Are you prepared to drop? Feet first into hell, troopers.

"Thorns in my lungs, petals on my tongue" by MossTimeBaby

the Roach Hanahaki fic that I was desperate to read

"Roaches Can't Die" by pinboardscarecrow

Ghost and Roach are betrayed by General Shepard; shot and killed by their own leader. But moments later, Roach wakes up back in the forest outside Makarov's safe house. Can he change his and Ghost's fates?

"is it really better to have loved and lost?" by MossTimeBaby

When Ghost has to fake his death to go deep undercover, Roach is left behind to pick up the pieces of himself.

"Two Sides of The Same Coin" by Vityed

It was Gary's first Christmas with Task Force 141, seeing as he had only joined the team six months earlier. As such, he had no idea what to expect. He just hoped it would be a good time to get to know everyone. Everything was perfect and ready. A Christmas tree decorated with tinsel, baubles and twinkling lights, and topped with a shining star, and plenty of alcohol to go around. What could possibly go wrong?

"Dear to you" by vani_tas_talk

messy university roommates breakup AU, starts as Roach/Soap/Ghost, endgame Roach/König

"If We Crash (I Hope We Do)" by mintyiecat

Simon and Gary live, and fall into a steady sort of companionship. Gary starts wondering (dramatically) what they are exactly. “How do you do that?” Simon scowls. “Swear to God it always jams.” ‘Magic fingers,’ Gary signs, and wiggles his.

[sunbaby01]

Firecracker

JJ Maybank x reader

Inspired by the prompt ‘you have no idea how much I want you right now’

So much for JJ’s ‘deny, deny, deny’ way of thinking, all she’d had to do was bat her eyelashes and kiss that one spot on his neck a few times to make him blab all about what Pope had done to Rafe’s boat. Trying to be reasonable, she’d told him revenge and violence weren’t the answer…until she saw Popes face as they went to watch the OBX movie series. She’d felt the anger fill her body and winced at the unfamiliar feeling.

“Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote ‘tell your boy we know what he did’” Kiara dropped into her seat staring down the two boys and Noa, all of them avoiding her gaze, the former two jumping into their own scattered conversation.

“Noa…” Kiara tried.

“Guys maybe we should just tell her-“ Noa tried to involve herself.

“You told her?” Pope rolled his eyes, “so much for deny, deny, deny. You’re soft as fuck for her” he glanced at Noa who adorned a guilty smile and back at JJ who shrugged as if to say ‘so what’

“What if Rafe talking about?” Kaira gritted her teeth, tired of being left in the dark.

“Kie…it might go down tonight” JJ started.

“J!” Noa facepalmed.

“Might go down tonight? What did y’all do?” Kie pinched the bridge of her nose mumbling “fucking idiots” when she got no response.

Noa often trusted her gut, after all it brought her to the friends she now called family and brought her JJ, the love of her life. Which is why when she started to feel off she spoke up.

“J I don’t feel too good, I feel like somethings gonna happen” she whispered in his ear, him basking in the way her breath tickled his neck.

“M’sure it’s nothing baby, it’s probably all the sugar” he nodded to the empty sweet packets lay at her feet and turned his head to press a kiss against her temple. It’s probably the sugar, she tried to tell herself he was right and focus on the movie.

“JJ” Pope whispered over the gunshots in the movie, JJ just nodded his head in response eyes on the screen.

“Gotta take a piss” Pope wanted to groan at how stupid he sounded wanting his friend to come with him.

“Hold it” JJ absentmindedly responded.

“I can’t hold it…I drank too much soda” any other time Pope would’ve laughed at the situation but when Kiara came back with those Pepsis and he drank one after the other, going to the bathroom was not on his mind.

“Just go with him, J” Noa said the other side of him, turning round smiling apologetically at those who could hear their talking whilst looking for Rafe and his goons, “they’re blocking the bathroom just go behind the tree there”

JJ and Pope looked at one another before nodding weakly. “Where y’all going?” Kie asked confused when both boys stood, “bathroom…gotta ring it out” JJ replied as if it was obvious.

“Are they gonna hold it for each other?” Kie looked at Noa with a sarcastic glint in her eye causing the girl to let out a quiet laugh both at the words spoken and the way the boys ducked down to try avoid getting in people’s way.

Sitting there without JJ by her side the feeling got worse, especially when they were taking too long for her liking to come back.

“Hey,” she leant over their chairs to talk to Kie, “I’ve got cramp…just gonna stretch my legs” she stood and did the awkward crouch too heading in the direction of the tree before Kiara even got to respond.

Although she felt a little weird when she realised they were indeed still pissing, she bit back a laugh hearing Popes groan of pleasure “this feels better than a blowjob”

JJ snorted, “like you know how that feels”

“Okay, this feel better than what I imagine a blowjob to feel like.“ Pope paused for a moment, “does it?”

JJ let out a quiet whistle, “nah man, nothing compares to that feeling. Well almost nothing…Noa does this thing with her tongue-“ he lowered his voice and she heard both boys jump when she made her presence known after hearing their flies zip

“What thing, honey” she spoke, giggling at the speed both of them turned around and the way JJ’s cheeks gained a pink tinge at being caught.

“Nothing” he smiled innocently watching his girl look back around the tree to check on Kie whispering a quick “tell you later” to Pope who nodded eagerly.

“Uh…guys” Noa cleared her throat as Rafe headed towards them.

“What’s up Pogues…pretty girl” he acknowledged them all watching in amusement as the shorter girl took two steps back as to not crane her neck.

“What’s up Rafe” she took control. ‘Always the pacifist’ Pope and JJ thought unaware to the rage that was filling her body once again.

JJ pulled her back as the three of them headed behind the movie screen.

“I just wanna talk” Rafe claimed.

“Bullshit” Noa huffed almost to herself, falsely clearing her throat when Rafe looked at her unamused.

“That was some nice work you did on my boat” Topper walked forward slightly.

“I don’t know what you mean” deny, deny, deny

“Not so burly without a gun, now are you” Rafe baited JJ over Noa’s shoudler, JJ pushing her behind him “take one more step I’ll blow your prepubescent face off” he squared up.

Too focused on trying to calm JJ down she didn’t even notice Pope had bit the bait until he head butted Topper square in his face instantly regretting it holding his own nose. JJ let out a “that’s my boy” and slipped out of Noa’s grasp punching Kelce in the face over and over until Rafe jumped on him too. She stood there pleading for them to stop ignoring her own rage building again until Kelce held JJ while Rafe delivered punch after punch to his body.

This was the moment that Noa realised, sometimes violence is the answer.

Giving into the rage she stepped forward feeling adrenaline pump through her veins, she grabbed Rafe’s shoulder with all her strength turning him around and punched him straight in his nose relishing in the cracking noise it made as she did. Everyone paused for just a second mouths gaping open as the girl breathed before Kiara jumped on Toppers back and JJ began fighting back harder. Rafe stood up angrier than before pulling Kie off Topper’s back with a warning to stay out of it before heading straight to Noa and shoving her off from where she was trying to hurt Kelce, enough to get him off JJ and shoving her down “stupid bitch” he spat, nose dripping with blood.

“Don’t you fucking touch her” JJ struggled watching Rafe stand over the girl he loved. Noa saw her opportunity and she took it kicking her leg up and hitting Rafe between his legs making him hunch over just as fire lit up the movie screen causing all of them to separate at the attention that would soon be on them if they didn’t move quick.

“Let’s get out of here” Rafe wiped his bloody nose still not stood fully straight, Kelce released a gasping JJ whilst Pope also tried to catch his breath, “I’d watch your back” he pointed his stare at Noa hating the way the fierce look in her eyes didn’t disappear at his threat.

“Look at you and then look at me. I think you should be the one watching yours” she bit back smirking when Topper and Kelce had to pull him away leaving the four Pogues alone each helping the other stand up.

JJ headed straight to Noa whilst Kie and Pope looked each other over. He quickly checked Noa for injuries he may have missed feeling satisfied when the only blood on her was her split knuckles.

“So much for violence isn’t the answer, my little peacemakers a firecracker” he managed to grin through his split lip with wicked glint in his eye.

“Okay maybe I was wrong…sometimes it’s the answer. What? Don’t look at me like that, I wasn’t gonna stand there and watch them do that to you” she felt the adrenaline wear off as the pain in her hand kicked in.

“I’m not looking at you like anything” he reached up and brushed his thumb on her jaw and slightly onto her neck.

“JJ” she gave him the look.

“Okay okay…I know now’s probably not the right time but you have no idea how much I want you right now” he looked straight in the eye fighting another painful grin.

“Seriously J?!” She breathed a laugh.

“What? You expect to see my sweet girl breaking Rafe Cameron’s nose for me and to not get turned on? C’mon firecracker you hold my hand sometimes and that’s enough”

“JJ…” she groaned and put her forehead on his chest quickly moving it when he let out a wince.

“C’mon Romeo, let’s get you fixed up” she reached and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips avoiding the cut toes tingling when his grip on her tightened slightly.

“Oooo playing nurse…kinky”

[dreamingofyeo]

𓏲๋࣭ ࣪ A siren's song࿐࿔𖦹ִ

Chapter 1 : Tempted fate ࿐࿔𖦹ִ

~ details in masterlist

~ playlist

~ 989 words

~ chapter warnings: implication/reference to sa, sexism, mild gore

~☆彡 tumblr's algorithm works off of reblogs so please consider it if you like my work :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, there is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold..” The lyrics trail away from your lips, taking to humming the calm melody instead resting your arms on the wooden railing before you. The sea breeze combs its cold fingers through your hair, sending it slightly floating behind you.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ that missy, brings bad luck.” 

The raspy voice sounds from behind you, you don’t turn to face it. The crew member walks over to you and leans over the railing himself.

“This crew believes my being here on this voyage to be bad luck enough, it can’t hurt” you say under your breath, neither expecting nor wanting an answer.

“Don’t tempt fate, it’s unwise on the most welcoming of seas.” He gives you a long glance before walking back to whatever he’d been tending to on the deck.

~

You lay awake that night, restless. Sleep is evading you. 

You were brought upon this voyage to visit your relatives, across the sea. The journey should only take a few days, but that feels too long on this ship. These relatives are people you have not yet had the pleasure of meeting, but as relations to your late mother, it is customary that your father would bring you with him to deliver the news in person, and possibly return with them for the funeral. From the little knowledge you had of them, they weren’t the most pleasant of folk, furthering your reluctance to the journey, as if the crew’s opinion of your being here be not enough of a reason to detest every moment on the vessel. You desire to be on land, mourning in the comfort of your family home, not here. 

The sound of movement on the deck and various loud noises furthers your annoyance. It’s well past 3am right now, and they’re causing a ruckus? 

Wishing more than ever for sleep to take you, you roll from your back to your side and bring the end of the pillow to your uncovered ear; only to throw it back and sit bolt upright at the sound of the first gunshot.

And then a second, and then the sounds of swords join the harrowing mix of screams and shouts. 

You dress yourself as quickly and efficiently as you can, there is no telling what is happening, but if you get dragged into it you’re sure as hell not being- or dying- in your nightdress. You fasten a dagger under the ruffles of your dress, it can’t hurt to be too prepared. 

You silently thank yourself for the intuition to do so as your door slams open against the planked wall of your room. A disgusting face illuminated by the lantern at your bedside, a devilish grin spreads to his lips, exposing his yellowed, crooked teeth. 

“Come here miss, and it won’t get ugly.” He snides, tilting his head to the side, eyeing your figure.

Frankly, you’re terrified. You’re safer out there than in your room alone with this man though, so you take the hint and walk towards him.

One foot in front of the other. Turn off your mind. Don’t think, don’t feel. Just walk.

As you reach him, he wraps a calloused filthy hand around your arm, the grime dirtying the fabric sleeving it. He drags you through the walkway and onto the deck. 

The sight that greets you chills you to your very soul. The crew slaughtered, your father on his knees before a man with his back to you. The dark figure wears a long frayed coat, cutlas sticking through one of the gaps. An exuberant hat atop his head, matted long hair sticking out from beneath it in an unkempt fashion. Pirate captain. 

The man gripping your arm speaks up, you try your best not to jump at the sudden noise.

“Captain, found this pretty thing back there, what’s your call?” 

The captain turns around, the lanterns hanging on the deck showing you his scarred features despite the mist snaking across the deck.

“Ah you have, have you, Broner? From the looks of it, the little mouse is your daughter, is she not? Considering the look on your face, that is. Hmm, unless she’s yours. In which case, I should rather say bravo.” He laughs at your father grimly, the members of his crew making themselves known in the darkness by matching his laughter.  

He steps to the side and you see your father. Though eyes are enraged, his body is broken. He is fading from the world. A choked sob escapes you.

“Father…”

“Ah so it is the primary assumption, all the better, you’re unspoiled.” He turns on his heel to you with an evil smirk. 

“Don’t, don’t touch her.” Your father rasps out, his pain is punctuated by a weak cough spraying blood across the captains boots.

The captain chuckles lightly, squatting down to eye level with your father, you struggle against Broner’s grasp. He holds you firm, digging his jagged nails into your arm, you bite back the wince.

“Those are my favourite boots.” 

He pulls out a pistol and fires it straight through your father. 

The scream that is pulled from you could move mountains. 

The captain stands, wiping your father’s bloody spray from his face, and turns to you.

“Take her aboard. She is to remain unspoiled, do not disrupt our plans.”

It’s then that you register the ship to your right. A blood red sail billowing from its mast. You know this ship. You’ve heard the stories. Its the Crimson. That captain is none other than Vervona. He’s said to be half mad, a man who sold his very soul to the devil. As evil and deranged as they come.

Maybe the crew member you didn’t even care to learn the name of earlier was right. You really should not have tempted fate on these waters.

<- Prologue ~ chapter 2 ->

*prologue is important please read it :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @amalialoved

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: blood, wounds, violence, death, grief, loss of a parent, implied sa references/fear of touch due to Inej's trauma

Note: This kinda got really long out of nowhere and I'm not sure when that happened but hey, hope you enjoy :)

AO3 link

Chapter 18 - Jesper

Jesper was barely in time to stop Inej from smacking into the pavement, catching her shoulders and gently laying her the last few inches instead of letting her fall through them. She shuddered as his hand found the wound on her leg, his fingers almost instantly turning wet with blood. He thought he should probably apply pressure to it - even though the knife was still there, protruding from her flesh at an ugly angle, blood was soaking through her trouser leg and dripping onto the ground - but as soon as he made contact she flinched away. The movement elicited a deep groan from the pain, but Inej just shook her head and seemed to be leaning as far away from him as she could manage from where she lay.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

Jesper began to nod, then paused.

“Is this a… touching-my-leg-makes-it-hurt-more kind of situation, or a don’t-touch-me-at-all kind of situation?”

“Not at all,” she managed, through gritted teeth and a tight breath.

“Okay,” Jesper nodded, shuffling back a little, “Okay,”

But he wasn’t sure what to do now. He had to get her to Nina - no, he had to get her back to the Slat and have Nina come to them. He couldn’t take Inej to the White Rose. He sent Bolliger and Pim running to fetch Nina, and hoped with such fervour it might have been a prayer that he’d be able to get Inej back home in one piece.

He tried to study the cut for a moment and realised it was worse than he’d thought; the wound with the knife handle still visible was only one of several deep, jagged caverns that had been dug into her leg, and around all of them the ripped edges of her trousers bubbling with blood. The lowest was at her knee but the rest were close together in her thigh. He didn’t see her getting back to the Slat without help. 

“We’ve got to move,” he said, after a second had passed, “If I just help you up, do you think you can walk alone?”

“You came back,” Inej whispered, sounding almost surprised.

“I heard a gunshot,” he said, “The others were steering down the street, I sent Anika and Roeder to the docks and pulled Pim and Bolliger into the fight with me,”

Jesper was still nervous about that decision. It was hazy enough for him and Inej to show up and ask him to trust them on such insane information, but looking at Inej he knew he needed to be here. And the main thing was just that the others got Wylan away from the hired guns and back to the Barrel. 

“You came back,” Inej whispered again.

Jesper tried to force his focus to Inej’s face, and not the throbbing flesh in front of him. He nodded.

“Do you think you can let me help you up? Can you walk?”

A brief moment hung in the air.

“I can try,”

Jesper held his hands out so Inej could choose to take them when she was ready, and she gripped him so tightly he thought the pressure from his rings might break skin. She was clearly holding in a scream as she anchored herself against him to drag her legs beneath her and sit upright. 

“Inej-”

“Just let me try,” she breathed.

Jesper held his arms out at right angles, as stiff as he could make them, and Inej leaned on them like they were the top of a wall she’d climbed as she pulled herself to her feet. He watched her fingers tighten on top of his sleeve, her knuckles almost turning white. As soon as she was standing she released him, took one shuffling step forwards, and very nearly collapsed as her leg buckled and a low, almost angry scream burst from her chest. Jesper  caught her on instinct as hse fell, then quickly pressed her against the side of one of the buildings leering into the alleyway so she could stay upright as he stepped away. She stared at the floor, breathing shakily. Her shadow loomed across the paving stones, disfigured by the dark blotch of the knife handle. Jesper took a slow breath.

“Inej, you’re not going to get back to the Slat like this,” he hesitated, “It’s not a long walk. You can lean on me, and we can take breaks if you need them. Okay?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again she still avoided his gaze.

“Okay,”

Inej swayed a little as she tried to straighten, then fell into Jesper’s arm with a few slow, stumbling steps. He held her up, trying to keep weight off her leg if he could, trying to watch her face and figure out if she needed him to let go.

“Just tell me if you need to stop,”

They managed the first few steps, Inej limping badly, and had almost reached the mouth of the alley before she grabbed his sleeve. Jesper froze, scanning for something to lean her against to stay standing. He pulled away but kept his hand on hers, seemingly all that was holding her up. But all she said was:

“I’m dizzy,”

Her voice was barely a whisper, with a worryingly light tone that sounded faintly amused. Jesper glanced down - Inej’s face had paled quite considerably, and the cobbles beneath and behind them were dark and slick with red. Shit.

“Inej?”

“Jesper…” she whispered, swaying slighlty, “Jesper…”

Panic began to close its tight grip over Jesper as he tried to tug Inej another step forwards, hand over hers, arm outstretched for fear she’d fall or faint. 

“You’re okay,” he told her, wishing he sounded more convincing, “You’re okay; we’re not far from the Slat now,”

Inej glanced around her like she was surprised to discover where she was. 

“It’ll just take ten minutes,” said Jesper, even though he knew on a brisk walk it would probably take you fifteen, “Come on, you can do it,”

Inej gripped his hand tighter, took a slow but confident stride forwards, and promptly fell straight towards the pavement. Jesper grabbed her by the shoulders before she could face-plant onto the stones and tried to encourage her to balance, but he could tell it was a lost cause. He hesitated, but there was still blood pouring from Inej’s wounds and she was swaying between his hands on her arms, eyes half-closed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then quickly looped an arm around her waist and scooped her up into his arms, “I’m so sorry. We’ll get home as quick as possible, okay?”

Inej didn’t reply. She struggled briefly and rather half-heartedly as he picked her up and her face contorted in pain. He genuinely wasn’t sure if that came only from the knife wounds, or from him as well. But he had to get her back to the Slat, and he wasn’t sure she’d make it on her own. He all but ran back through the Barrel, moving as quickly as he could manage with her drooping in his arms, feeling her blood soaking into his shirt and murmuring a thousand apologies into her ear. 

They burst messily through the door and Jesper immediately saw Layla, a sweetheart but probably the clumsiest girl he’d ever met, jump up from her chair at the sight of Inej. The chair fell over in her wake but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Find Kaz,” he told her, “Quick,”

She vanished. Inej mumbled something, her eyelids drooping.

“Hey,” Jesper tried his best to give her a shake without risking dropping her, “Hey, Inej! Look at me, come on, keep your eyes open,”

“Don’t…” her voice was weak and breathy, “... Kaz,”

Jesper shook her again, hurrying towards the stairs.

“Keep talking to me,” he said, “We’re gonna get you upstairs to lie down, and Nina’s gonna be here in no time, okay? Repeat it back to me, come on,”

Inej shuddered. 

“Jesper… don’t…”

Her voice faded.

“Talk to me, Inej,”

“Don’t tell Kaz,” she whispered, shaking her head, “He won’t… if I… don’t…”

Jesper swallowed.

“We’ll-” he glanced back over his shoulder, but Layla was long gone, “Okay, Kaz is coming, but I’m gonna keep him out of your way, alright?”

Inej groaned.

“I can’t… he’ll…”

“He’s just going to know something happened,” Jesper didn’t know why she didn’t want Kaz to know about this, but he had a growing suspicion he could work it out, “He doesn't have to know how bad it is. I’ll keep him out of your way,”

They got upstairs as quickly as Jepser could manage and he laid her onto her bed. She groaned softly, rolling quickly away from his touch and immediately wincing at the pain, whilst Jesper grabbed a towel that he found sitting on top of her little clothes chest. He hesitated. 

“I’m just gonna lift your legs up,” he told her, slowly, “to put the towel underneath you. Is that alright? I’m just gonna touch your boots, it’ll be two seconds,”

There was already blood on her duvet and maybe this was a futile gesture, but it would probably take a good while to track down any other clean bed sheets at the Slat if these ones got completely ruined. Inej nodded. She closed her eyes and when Jesper took hold of her shoes she gripped the quilt either side of her, the fabric balling into her fists. He pulled the towel along and folded it beneath the wounds as quickly as he could, then gently lowered her legs again. 

“All done,” he whispered.

Inej’s pained whimper was her only response.

“Nina’s on her way, she’ll be here any minute. I’ll give you some space, I’ll be right outside the door if you need me-”

He made to leave, but before he could take a step further Inej’s hand had shot out and closed tightly over his own. She winced - she’d sat up slightly to reach him - and her face was contorted in pain as Jesper turned back to her. 

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, “Please,”

Jesper nodded, moving back to her side and squeezing her fingers softly.

“Of course not,”

There wasn’t a chair in Inej’s room - there wouldn’t have been space for one - but Jesper sat down beneath her window and stretched his legs out in front of him. She lay on her side so the knife handle was sticking into the air, dangling her arm over the side of the bed and loosely interlocking her fingers with his. 

“Talk to me,”

“About what?”

“Anything,” she whispered, and after a minute, “How did you know? About Wylan?”

“I didn’t. Not really,” he shrugged, “I mean, I noticed stuff was weird… I didn’t think he would try to kill him,”

Inej closed her eyes for a moment and Jepser squeezed her fingers tighter.

“Inej? Inej, look at me,”

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “Still breathing,”

Jesper didn’t want to let go, but he gently loosened his grip on her fingers. They stayed loosely connected, index fingers hooked around each other. He was fighting to stay in this room, in this moment, with Inej and not… Jesper breathed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen death, since his mother, he saw it almost every day. Hell, he may very well have killed a man barely half an hour ago, before he brought Inej back to the Slat, he didn’t stop to check if the tough was still breathing. And Inej was going to be fine, Nina was coming, she would know what to do. But there was something about this that was forcing him to face the cavern that would be left in him if he lost Inej, to bring the cavern already inside him back to the surface. He took a breath, trying to shake himself away from such stupid thoughts. He was not seven years old anymore. And Inej was going to be okay. 

“Jesper?”

He blinked, smiling at Inej.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, “Do you want some water?”

“Jesper,” her voice was soft, “are you crying?”

“No,” he cleared his throat, standing up and dropping her hand, “I’ll get you some water,”

When he came back, Inej had shuffled herself up the bed to sit leaning against the headboard, propped up by her pillow, wincing as tried to settle herself.

“What are you doing?” asked Jesper, shaking his head, as he set her water down and offered her an arm so she could steady.

“I…” Inej breathed heavily, “... it hurts,”

“Well I hate to state the obvious, love, but I think that’s going to be a given when there a knife sticking out your leg,”

Inej made a sound that might have been laughter, but it was hard to tell through her pained breathing. She clutched his arm, resting her head briefly against his shoulder.

“You should lie down, try to keep it still,” he told her softly.

“Where’s Nina?”

Jesper had no idea. Shouldn’t she be here by now? Shouldn’t she have gotten back before they did?

“On her way,” he promised, “She’ll be here any minute,”

It took a short while longer for Nina to arrive, though Jesper wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been. He got Inej to drink an entire glass of water, but she was still losing blood badly and he thought she might be close to passing out. He didn’t know how much blood you have to have lost to get to that point. Should he try to put pressure on the cuts? He didn’t want to risk moving the knife around, and he wasn’t sure if I he would be okay with his hands on her leg again. If Nina wasn’t here in a few minutes, he decided, he would find something to tie around them and hope that would be enough pressure until she arrived. 

“Talk to me,” Inej said again, her voice weak, “Please,”

Jesper nodded.

“I… I don’t know what to say,”

“You always know what to say,” Inej laughed softly, and Jesper echoed her.

She was right. He could’ve talked for King and country, as his Da would’ve put it - which always made Jesper laugh when he was little, because they didn’t have a King in Novyi Zem. There wasn’t a King in Kerch, either, but that didn’t stop him. Still, now it felt like there were simply no words within his reach. A moment passed, before Inej murmured:

“Tell me about Wylan,”

“What about him?”

“Well, I only met him twice,” she said, softly, “In chemistry lessons, of all places. I’m still yet to have a go at Kaz for those,”

Jesper laughed.

“Tell me what he’s like,” Inej said, closing her eyes again until Jesper grabbed her hand and she said: “I’m awake. I’m okay. Just… talk,”

Jesper talked. The minutes ticked by. He panicked that Nina still hadn’t appeared, wondered if he should send one of the Dregs looking for her or looking for a Healer, tried to keep his voice even and carry on talking to Inej. He didn’t know how long it had been when the door was flung open and Nina ran into the tiny bedroom, taking Jesper by surprise so much that he jumped up to his feet. 

“Inej?”

“Nina…” Inej groaned, softly, reaching out towards Nina’s outstretched hand, smiling as she said, “funny story…”

“Oh Saints, Inej, I’m so sorry I took so long,”

Nina clutched at Inej’s fingers for a moment as Jesper tried to shuffle out of her way in the tiny room, so Nina could get to Inej properly.

“What-?” when she saw the full extent of Inej’s injuries, Nina gasped, “Oh Saints, what happened?”

Jesper opened his mouth but before he could the door opened again and Kaz appeared through it.

“Wraith-”

Inej seemed to almost flinch, pulling herself quickly upright and immediately wincing at the pain.

“Nope,” said Jesper, before Kaz could get another word in, “There’s too many people in here,”

“What happened?” asked Kaz, his rough voice grating through the air. 

“Out,” Jesper pointed at the door, “I’ll fill you in,”

No-one moved for a moment; Jesper walked towards the door so Kaz was forced to back out into the corridor again, though he didn’t look pleased about it, and nodded at Nina and Inej before he pulled it shut behind them both. 

[some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too]

The outsiders HC

TW: murder, break ins (literally one hc in dally’s section includes these), abuse (one hc in steve’s section)

i like angst ok 😭

ponyboy

he pretends to absolutely hate when somebody asks him to read a book out loud to him but in reality, ask this man to read out loud to you and it’ll make his day.

i don’t remember where i saw this but i remember one time i saw someone say he had really bad luck and if anything bad/unlucky happened to one of the other guys they’d all call it “pony-luck”

ever since he and soda started sharing a bed, 1. he can’t sleep without someone beside him (that’s actually canon though i think?) 2. he can happily sleep without a blanket (more on that in sodas HCs

Darry

i find it sweet to think that he sleeps with a stuffed bear that one of his parents gave him as a joke present for his 18’th birthday, he never let on, but it’s one of his prized possessions

he absolutely sucked at cooking when his parents died, he had like 2 things that his mom taught him when he was younger and that was like how to bake bread and how to cook pasta right. i think it’d be funny if soda felt bad and pretend he loved pasta sandwiches for a solid month just to help darry feel better

darry isn’t very interested in dating, sure he would love to settle down and have kids some day, but he doesn’t think there’s a rush, he’ll know when the right girl comes along. all the guys tease him saying it’s cause he can’t get a girlfriend but really he’s just not bothered, he doesn’t think he needs one.

even though he isn’t interested in dating he secretly loves a good romance novel, he has a stack of them in his wardrobe, ponyboy found them one day and was traumatised by the…”spicier” moments. they still joke about it

when he and pony fight and pony goes into his room darry just kinda stands outside for like 5 minutes wondering if he should go in and apologise

Sodapop

he’s the type of person to steal all the blankets when he’s sleeping. he always ends up like a little burrito. pony once tried to bring and extra blanket to bed so he could- yk actually have some blankets but soda just stole that too.

he started having nightmares after his parents died, all three of the curtis boys did. he would often wake up in a cold sweat or crying, but he never said anything since he didn’t want to worry anyone. when he had to move in with pony he pretended to be annoyed but secretly he was happy, sleeping next to someone helped soothe his nightmares too

he loves to go for long, late night walks alone. it helps clear his mind. the first few times he got caught sneaking out darry got a bit mad with him but after they sat down and soda explained why he was leaving darry let him go. now when darry sees him leaving he just says something like “stay safe, take as long as you need. when you get back come in and say goodnight.”

sodapop curtis can play piano. that’s all. i’ve just decided he should be able to play piano.

soda does actually drink. he doesn’t tell pony, to kinda “save his innocence”. he only drinks when he and steve go out and pony isn’t with them. he used to drink when pony was there but just put his beer in a pepsi can but one time pony asked for a mouthful and soda just had to chug the entire thing.

Dally

he secretly loves to watch the sunrise. he normally makes himself a cup of coffee, goes up to the roof of bucks place and watches the sunrise while drinking his coffee. he hates the sunset though, he hates that it ends in the dark. it sounds stupid, but when the sunrise ends, it ends in light, and that kinda gives him some sort of hope? i dunno, ask him

dally is an orphan, but he just says that his parents don’t care about him. his mother died during childbirth. his father died when he was nine years old. one night there was a break in, he hid dally in a closet. while he was hiding, he heard a gunshot. he heard a car drive away and he came out. his father was lying on the floor, motionless. rather than go into foster care, dally ran away, lived on the streets. eventually he made his way to tulsa.

he plays music in bucks about twice a week to “earn his stay”. he plays the guitar.

he loves to draw, snakes mainly. but he doesn’t like to draw on paper, he likes to draw on his arms and the arm of whoever is willing. for a while he thought of becoming a tattoo artist, he’d love to. though he realised that it’d probably never happen.

Two-Bit

he’s like- scarily graceful. you’d think he’s clumsy given he’s always drinking and everything, but he acts like a freaking cat. if he drops something he just scoops it up and keeps walking without stopping. if he’s walking around the Curtis house and the coffee table is in the way he just walks over it.

he’s surprisingly good at styling hair because of his little sister (it’s canon that he has a sister right?) he always does her hair before school. whenever he’s stressed he grabs pony or johnny since they have the longest hair and just starts putting tiny braids in their hair.

he just mentally combusts at the first sign of a girl flirting with him, he’s a real flirt until a girl does something back, he doesn’t know how to react.

he normally picks ponyboy up from school, he’s just worried that something will happen to him otherwise. he sees pony as a little brother almost.

steve

this boy is obsessed with bugs and frogs. don’t ask why i have no explanation i just think he does

he’s very self conscious of his teeth, he saves everything he can from working in the DX to put towards braces

he learned to fight to defend his mam from his dad, even when he was little his dad would hit his mother so at like 7 he asked Mr. Curtis to teach him boxing because he wanted to be like “Sonny Liston” (famous boxer at the time) but in reality he wanted to fight back for his mam. eventually she left, she wasn’t able to take steve with her.

Johnny

allergic to peanuts.

he befriends all the stray cats and dogs in tulsa. or at least the ones that appear in the lot.

he and pony have weekly sleepovers, even when they were really little. they only ever went to Johnny’s place once, but after seeing what johnnys parents were like pony decided that from then on they went to the curtis’s place

he’s suprisingly good at baking, especially cookies. he’d love to own a bakery when he’s older. (poor johnny didn’t get his bakery 💀)

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer 4

Summary: Reader is captured by Hydra again. 

Warnings: Blood, torture, needles, gore, angsty stuff. Major character death (temporary)

Notes: Writing this has helped get me out of a stretch of writer’s block. I hope to be more active going forward. If y’all have any requests, be they new stories entirely, or continuations of existing ones, don’t hesitate to send an ask!

Gn!reader

Words: 4,336

You were just starting to get a feel for how this team operated. Learning how to triage and when to conserve your strength. Dr. Cho was interested to learn more, so you often hung out in the medbay with her. She taught you how to operate almost all the medical equipment, and together you had healed a whole range of injuries. Gunshots were common, but they caused a lot of blood loss, making them hard to fix. Burns were surprisingly difficult, seeing as the damaged tissue was unlikely to comply with the process. 

On most missions, you’d sit on the jet with a com in one ear, and the injured would be brought to you. This worked really well for large-scale stuff, where there were SHIELD agents working in tandem with the Avengers. Today, you were paired with an Avenger to go inside the area.

“Now, Y/n,” Natasha said when the plan was proposed, “If you don’t feel comfortable being back in a HYDRA base, we can sort something else out.”

“Nobody’s going to force you to go,” Steve added.

“But?” You prompted.

“But it’s the best way to ensure everyone comes back from the mission.”

There was a moment where they seemed to hold their breath, and you realized that they were more worried than you. 

“Yeah,” You said, “I’m fine with going in with one of y’all.”

“Thank you so much.” Nat said. Their fears were unfounded. You knew you could operate just fine with the rest of them. The funny thing is, none of them could heal as fast as you, so the worry should have been reversed.

Today was your fifth mission with them, the first time you went in with them. They were tipped off about a small new base, in a strategically compromising place. Their plan was to wipe it out before it became too much of a problem.

You and Natasha were dropped off near the southern entrance, and instructed to wait till Steve drew attention at the western one. It was only the three of you on this mission, as it wasn’t that high-stakes.

Not too long after, the order was sent out, and Natasha cracked open the vault-like door. She took a few steps inside and waved for you to follow her. She took you through a descending maze of tunnels. You kept going, even after Steve’s com went silent. Even through the seemingly endless waves of HYDRA agents. 

As the tunnels kept twisting and turning, a realization dawned on you. The maps were wrong, this place was much larger than anyone had thought.

“Y/n?” Natasha turned to you. Her voice was strained. It felt strange to hear someone speak in such a place, especially after hours of silence broken only by footsteps, water dripping down the damp walls, and an occasional scuffle.

“Yes?” You replied.

“I’m afraid that we must now shift our priorities to getting ourselves out.”

“But what about Steve?” You asked. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” She said, “But we have to leave him.”

“No… No, we have to go find him! He wouldn't just leave us if we were missing! He could be alive out there. If they caught him-”

“Stop!” Her voice ricocheted around the hall, ripping you out of your spiraling thoughts. For a second the word hung in the air, waiting to be followed up.

“Stop.” She repeated, her voice much quieter now, almost pleading. “I know you were close with Steve, and this can’t be easy for you, but we have to assume he is dead. We are both worn out. Even if we were to find him, we would be of no help. I need you to focus on right here, right now.”

“Okay.” You wiped your eyes. Natasha knelt down next to you to get to eye level.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” She said.

“It’s okay.” You murmured, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not easy for you, either.”

“It’s not, no, but that doesn’t mean I can yell at you.” She said, “Do you think we can keep going or do you need a hug first?”

One hug later, you were retracing your steps along the cold tunnel. It was now oddly quiet. Like the walls dampened any sound, or the darkness swallowed it.

“Natasha Romanoff, put your weapon down.” Natasha tightened her grip as a man emerged from the shadows. He was a sharply-dressed, impossibly smug, older man. Obviously HYDRA. 

“Nope.” She aimed it at his head. “You're gonna stay right there, and tell me how you're still alive."

“Miss Romanoff, I suggest you drop the pistol.” Dozens more HYDRA agents materialized out of the darkness in front of and behind you. 

“Half of my men have their aim set for them,” He gestured to you, “You and I both know even they can’t heal a shot through the skull.” He was right, and she was worn out after walking and fighting for hours. Finally she relented and dropped the gun. Immediately, an agent with dark hair stepped forward and wrangled her into handcuffs. She resisted a little, but one reminder that your life was hanging in the balance put that to an end.

The dark haired agent then opened a small briefcase, and removed a syringe and vial. He filled it slowly and injected it into Natasha’s inner arm. She winced for a moment, then her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.

You gasped.

“Not to worry.” The smug agent said, “This is simply a precaution. She will wake up shortly after we relocate her.” 

“Who are you?” Your voice wavered. 

“I am Alexander Pierce.” He said, “But you will only need to address me as 'sir.' Rumlow here is going to sedate you as well.”

“No!” You managed to scramble a few feet back before someone grabbed you by your shoulder, and dragged you towards Rumlow, who had now filled another syringe. 

As you lost consciousness, Pierce spoke to you.

“It seems we have quite a bit of re-training to do.”

Once again, you found yourself waking up in a cold, dark cell. You opened your eyes, and the room spun violently. You curled and uncurled your fingers as you slowly started getting your senses back. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, they all seemed to be back, though the room still spun.

A man was walking down the hall. When he peered in and saw you were awake, he swung the cell door open, and grabbed you by your forearm. 

“Up.” He said bluntly, “This way.”

You tried your best to walk, but despite your efforts, your legs refused to cooperate, and you ended up being dragged behind him. The cold floor was almost a relief. It was a jarring start back to reality, and helped you to fully regain consciousness. By the time you reached your destination, you were walking behind the man. 

“Sit here.” He ordered. “And wait.”

The room was blank, only a small drain in the center, and a wooden chair bolted to the floor to the right of it, and a rolling cart filled with shining tools to the left. You quickly slipped back into the familiar routine of following commands, and sat. Instinctively, you attempted to make yourself as small as possible, shrinking down as much as the chair would allow.

Not a minute ticked by before the door swung open again. In walked Alexander Pierce, followed closely by Rumlow. 

“Ah, Y/n.” Pierce said, “I was beginning to think that we’d given you a little too much sedative. I need you to tell me about the Avengers.”

“But they’re my friends,” You meekly replied, “They loved me.”

With one swift movement he snatched a knife from the cart and plunged it straight through the palm of your hand. Your eyes widened in surprise and more than a little pain, but you didn’t make a noise.

“Y/n,” He sighed, “This was all a test. And I’m sorry to say that you failed. You betrayed HYDRA the very first chance you got.”

Blood dripped down the arm of the chair. Your hand started to heal around the knife, and Pierce noticed this. 

“For your betrayal, you must be punished.” He wrenched the knife out of your hand, and stabbed it back through. The skin was fresh and tender, which made it hurt all the more. Still, you choked back any reaction.

“Sir,” Another HYDRA agent entered the room, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Captain is awake.”

“I’ll go speak with him.” Pierce sighed and turned to Rumlow, “Rumlow, could you take over here? It seems I have more important matters to deal with.”

“Happily, sir.” 

Before he left, Pierce yanked the knife from your palm. You held pressure on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. A moment later, you removed your hand, and saw the skin knitting itself back together. 

“That’s a neat trick.” Rumlow said. “Hope you’re good at it. When I’m done, a small scratch will be the least of your concern.”

He pulled his arm back and landed a blow to the side of your head.

Hours later, even with your increased healing, you were bloody and broken. Ribs cracked, probably a concussion, four fingernails ripped off, and Rumlow had done something to your arm which made it bend the wrong way. Blood and vomit trickled into the drain. Sweat beaded down your face. All you wanted to do was slip into the darkness, but you still fought to keep your eyes open. 

“Bring them back to their cell.” Rumlow ordered.

“But sir, shouldn’t the medic–?” He protested.

“They’ll be fine.” Rumlow cut him off. And so you were dragged back through the halls, and thrown into the cell once more. Now that the drugs were mostly out of your system, you could take a look around the room. It had a cot pushed against one wall, and a joint toilet/sink combo on the other. The concrete walls were rough, and the only light came from a yellow bulb down the hall.

You lugged yourself to the cot and wrapped the thin blanket around your shoulders before flopping over. The coarse fabric was like a potato sack, but it was better than lying directly on the hard bunk. Most of your injuries had stopped bleeding by now, and the rest of them could be dealt with in the morning. For now, resting was the most important thing you could do.

It felt like your eyes had just drifted closed, when a uniformed man rattled the bars, waking you up. As you opened your eyes, familiar pain washed over you. You walked over to the cell door, only a little groggy and off-balance. The agent guided you across the hall and up a staircase. He led you into a room, with an unconscious Natasha, tied to a chair. Alexander Pierce was waiting patiently beside her. 

“Here we have Ms. Romanoff.” Pierce said to you, “She used to work for HYDRA, but she decided to turn her back on us in favor of the Avengers.”

You nodded. You already knew that Nat had escaped the Red Room, having bonded with her over shared stories of HYDRA’s brutality. 

“I need you to know what happens when someone betrays HYDRA.” He motioned to the man who escorted you there. He was now holding a gun to the back of Nat’s head. Pierce crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He was now at eye level, and you could see the pure evil in his eyes.

“She will not wake up.” Pierce said, looking you straight in the eye, “Ever.”

Hearing that, something snapped. Something deep inside you gave way. Years of pain came bubbling to the surface, along with something new. A novel emotion, one you hadn't felt before.

Anger.

It coursed through your veins and even a decade of HYDRA’s conditioning couldn’t hold it back. The energy you felt, the glow when you healed someone prickled at your skin, but it was colder, more painful.

Suddenly, Pierce recoiled, clutching his hand. A hole went straight through his palm, an identical wound to the one he gave you earlier. You lunged towards the man threatening Nat, and snatched his weapon. Without any hesitation, you shot him. He crumpled to the floor. 

Then you turned to Pierce.

“Pierce,” You said, pointedly not calling him ‘sir.’ 

“There has been something I’ve been dying to try. Turns out it works. Can you guess what it is?”

Pierce scrambled backwards, still holding his hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

“That’s right,” You said through gritted teeth, “I gave you back the injury you so graciously gifted me. Except, I don’t need a weapon.” With that, you crouched next to him, mirroring the movement he had done just moments before. You closed your eyes, recalling an extra-painful gunshot wound you’d healed, you touched Pierce’s arm. The cold flash of pain only lasted a split second for you, but as you opened your eyes, you saw the pain and terror on his face, and knew it worked.

You had successfully transferred an injury to someone. Standing, you looked at his shirt, which blood was starting to stain. 

“Pierce,” You said, “You still have a few seconds to do something good in your life before you bleed out. I just need to know two things. How do I wake Natasha up, and where is Steve?”

“I’ll…” He sputtered, “I-I’ll never t-tell.”

“That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out myself.” 

A moment passed, then Pierce wheezed two final words.

“Hail HYDRA.” Then he slumped back against the wall. Just to be sure, you unloaded the rest of the clip into his head before walking back to Nat’s chair. 

Finally, you had a moment to take in the room, you saw she was hooked up to an IV of what you assumed was a sedative. You carefully removed the needle, and took a quick assessment of her state. 

She was bloody and bruised, with a nasty laceration on her calf, which was probably going to make walking hard, but ultimately not anything she couldn’t handle. You desperately wanted to take it from her, but decided against it since you were already overloaded with healing your own injuries.

It felt so strange. She was the person who came and rescued you from HYDRA, and now she was tied up in one of their bases. Every day, Nat was so strong. Always protecting you, making sure you felt welcome and safe, and helping you through the memories of HYDRA.

The adrenaline from discovering part of your powers was still flowing through you, and you managed to push the spiraling anxiety down. After all, you had to get Nat out of here. 

She stirred slightly.

“Hey Nat. Can you hear me?” You asked, undoing the cuffs holding her wrists to the chair, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re getting out of here.”

“Mhm…” She murmured, “Pierce?”

“Don’t worry. He can’t hurt you, me, or anyone else ever again.” 

“Steve?” She asked, opening her eyes, but quickly shutting them again.

“I don’t know where he is, sorry.”

“We’ll find him…” She sighed. Natasha opened her eyes – slowly this time – and looked at you. 

“Oh, little зайчик [bunny], when did you get this?” She reached out and touched the side of your face, which you realized still had dried blood on it from yesterday. 

“You’ve been asleep for a long time.” You replied, “If I had to guess, a whole day has passed since we got here.”

“That’s good,” She said. You looked at her, and the confusion on your face was clear, so she explained.

“If we don’t get back today, the others will know something went wrong…”

“And they’ll come get us!” You filled in the rest.

“Exactly.” 

The two of you stayed there for a few more minutes as Natasha fully regained consciousness. You filled her in on the few events between being caught and now.

“Yesterday really sucked, but I did overhear something good.” You said, “Pierce was going to interrogate me or something, but he had to leave when one of his goons came in and told him ‘the Captain’ was awake. So – as of yesterday at least – Cap’s alive! Isn’t that awesome?”

Nat started to nod, but stopped.

“Dizzy, right?” You asked.

“Whatever that stuff was,” She said, “It was strong. How long did you say I was out for, a whole day?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I think they dosed you with way more than Steve and I. They didn’t really care if they gave you too much, since they were planning on killing you right here, just a few minutes ago.”

“How’d you stop them? No offense, you’re not too good at hand-to-hand combat.”

“I…” You started, not exactly sure how to explain, “So… I can take injuries from people, you know that, and I was thinking about that a lot, and I thought ‘Hey, I can take them, what if I can give injuries to people?’ I had no way of testing this, because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Today I finally got a chance to try it out.”

“I’m impressed,” She said, looking around the room at both Pierce and the unnamed guard’s bodies. 

“I bet someone’s gonna get worried about Pierce disappearing.” You said, “We should get moving.”

“Mhm,” Nat agreed, “Help me stand up.”

At first, she was a bit wobbly, but she was fine so long as she could lean on you.

“See if either of them have weapons.” Nat said.

“I already snagged his,” You motioned to the guard. You had pocketed Pierce’s pistol, which you passed to Nat. She probably wouldn’t be very helpful, since she was half-draped across your shoulders. It was better than nothing, though. Her being armed made you feel a little safer.

Just as you were starting towards the door, you heard the muted sounds of raised voices and fighting.

“Stay here,” You said.

“Are you sure?” Nat questioned.

“I can handle this.” You reassured her, and she lowered herself back into the chair. You poked your head out of the room quietly. All the way down the hall, you could see half a dozen men fighting Cap. His movements were sloppy, so he was probably still under some form of sedative. 

Rushing down the hall, you got there just as the HYDRA agents started to get the upper hand. Once again channeling your anger, you extended a hand to the arm of a tall agent, and conjured an injury you’d healed before: a broken arm. For a split second you felt a flash of pain in your own arm, then you felt the bones of the agent’s arm splinter and snap, as if they were tearing themselves apart from the inside.

He yelled and turned, swinging at you with this other arm. You ducked and swiped at his torso, transferring another injury. This time red quickly started seeping through his shirt and he collapsed.

By now the other HYDRA agents had noticed, and one approached you with a knife. This might have posed a bit of a problem, seeing as you had to touch him to utilize your powers.

“Hey kid,” He said, smiling strangely, “I don’t wanna hurt you. If you just–” Before he could say any more you lunged towards him, and threw all your weight into it, knocking him over. Your hands touched either side of his head as you recalled a nasty head injury Stark had once needed help healing.

As you were inflicting brain damage, he stabbed you. While he did manage to puncture a lung, it was a futile attempt at escape. You simply transferred the knife wound to him. His breath sputtered, and he gasped for breath. 

Rolling off of the agent, you saw Steve was able to take out three of the others. You walked through the hall – now littered with bodies – towards Steve. He still looked off-balance, although not that bad now that adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Super soldier serum was helping with the sedative.

“Thank God you’re alright, Y/n.” He said, “Is Nat oka–”

A gunshot reverberated through the hall, and a HYDRA agent that had slipped behind Steve unnoticed fell to the ground. Both you and Steve’s attention quickly snapped to where the shot had come from. Leaning against the door frame, gun in hand, was Nat.

“You missed one,” She said.

“Thanks,” You said, “Now, does anyone know how to get out of here?”

“I remember the path I came in through,” Said Steve, “But there’s quite a few HYDRA agents that route.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Nat said, still more than a little loopy. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” You said, the concern slipping into your voice, “How about you two sit down? I’ll grab these guy’s weapons, while you rest a bit.” 

They put up a little resistance, but ultimately slid down the wall to rest. Your mind raced as you took inventory of the supplies you had. How were you meant to get two semi-sedated adults and yourself out of here with only a few handguns, a pocket knife, and a whole base of HYDRA agents after you?

You glanced at the two woozy fighters slumped against the wall. Even in their doped-up state, they were bandaging each other up.

“Hey Cap,” You said, walking over, “Are you just about ready?”

“Yeah.” He said, “Right after I finish dealing with this.” He gestured towards Nat’s lower leg. Steve was almost done wrapping it up using a torn strip of a HYDRA uniform.

“Can you support Nat while we move?” You asked.

“I could, but then it would be up to you to fight anyone we encounter.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Nat laughed.

You simply shrugged him off, “Just show me the way, and we’ll be out in no time.”

You helped Steve up, and he helped Natasha to her feet. Nat was still rather wobbly, but Steve adapted quickly. The three of you hobbled along, with Steve occasionally stopping to readjust his hold on Nat or to give directions. 

The first time HYDRA agents stumbled across your trio, it was at a junction between two tunnels. Steve nearly dropped Nat in an attempt to throw himself between you and them. By the time he got into position, you had already killed them.

“How did…?” He started.

“I discovered some new aspects of my powers.” You replied. Making a mental note to check up with you back at the Tower, Steve nodded towards the left hallway. 

“It’s this way.” He said. Onwards you went, only encountering a few more groups, and you dealt with them as swiftly as the first. Gradually the walls became less moldy, and the air less musty.

“We’re coming up on the exit,” Steve said, rounding a corner. 

“Be careful, we should expect some–” Nat started, but was cut off by the sound of gunfire. Quickly you smushed back around the corner, against the wall, but not quick enough. Steve wasn’t hit. Neither were you. 

But Nat.

Nat didn’t look good.

A bullet had ripped through the left side of her chest. Her skin was growing paler by the second. She didn’t even get to finish her sentence.

Not thinking in the slightest, you immediately started healing her. Steve tried to push you away, you’d never healed someone this far gone. Even your healing capabilities had limits. Your rage fueled you, blinding you to the pain and stupidity of trying to heal someone who was already dead. 

Life slowly came back to Natasha. Her eyes flickered open, filling with horror at seeing blood now seeping through your shirt.

“Y/n,” Steve said, dread dripping from his words, “What did you do?”

“I took the injury.” You gasped, coughing up blood, “There wasn’t anything else I could do.” You stood up, and turned the corner straight into the sights of countless HYDRA agents.

You were at death’s door, and only rage kept you on your feet. Only anger allowed you to extend your powers over the hall full of cruel, evil people. Only wrath fueled the transfer of this horrible pain from your chest to them instead. 

With a sickening thunk, everyone in the hall fell to the floor, bearing identical wounds across their chests. A moment later, you lost balance. Pain radiated from where your head hit the concrete beneath you, but at least you had gotten rid of the hole in your chest. Distantly, you saw Steve rush towards you, but you blacked out before he reached you.

A dull ache.

That’s all it was.

Distant and floating in an endless void, the only thing tethering you to your body was a dull ache in your head.

Well, that and you could hear voices.

They weren’t talking to you, but still you listened. They were worried. Then the rumble of an engine covered what little you could hear, and you slipped back into the endless void.

You opened your eyes, more than a little confused as to how you got here. You knew where you were, it was obviously the medbay. Moonlight filtered through the windows over the machines that beeped around you. Annoying wires and tubes poked into the skin of your arm. 

You disconnected the machines from you, carefully following the proper protocols so as to not set off any blaring alarms. It was night, after all. Nobody wanted to wake up to the thought of a medical emergency. 

Next to you there was another bed and an armchair. Both of them were occupied by familiar faces. Nat was in the bed, while Steve seemed to have fallen asleep while reading. A smile grew across your face.

You padded over to Natasha, and curled up beside her. 

She was in for a surprise when she woke up. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. 

Part 3, Hair (Medium/Long), Hair (Buzzed)

[chocolix76]

What if Moon and Solar found Ruin too late when he was kidnapped by Eclipse?

Word count: 1,675

CW: Dismemberment

Ruin scooched backwards in a frantic attempt to put as much distance between himself and Eclipse as possible, the latter approaching with slow rhythmical steps as if trying to prolong his terror as long as possible. Once his back hit the solid and slightly damp wall of his holding cell, Ruin had to quickly come to peace with the fact that there was no way out. The open door behind Eclipse taunted him, holding freedom just out of his reach. There was a barrier in front of the door. 

“I’m going to torture you, Ruin,” Eclipse drawled, stopping just a foot in front of where Ruin was curled into a ball. All he could see was the taller animatronic’s white eyes glaring at him through a shadowy figure. “I’m going to tear you apart piece by piece.” 

“T-Torture?” Ruin stammered, holding his arms out in front of him as Eclipse attempted to close the space between them, most likely to harm him. Eclipse scoffed, grabbing Ruin by the wrist and twisting his arm backward in a direction his joints were not made to go. “N-Now Eclipse, let’s talk about this, shall we? Th-There’s no need to resort to torture is- is there?”

There was a heavy silence that passed between them before Eclipse burst into laughter, filling the eerie stillness of the bunker. His grip on Ruin’s wrist only grew tighter as he attempted to wiggle out of the taller animatronic’s grip, forcing a cry of pain from escaping his voice box. 

“Of course there’s a reason to torture you. You made me,” Eclipse accused, twisting Ruin’s arm back even further when he attempted to cut in and argue otherwise, letting out a cry of pain that only made the wicked smile on Eclipse’s face grow larger. “You made me and even the people you consider your friends don’t trust you. They might even take their sweet time looking for you if they even noticed that you’re missing. By the time they find you, you’ll be nothing more than scrap. You’ll be a warning to the others.”

Only now did the pure weight of the situation Ruin was in finally catch up to him, glancing frantically around the room for anything that could save him without success. Eclipse had removed any possible weapons from the room, leaving the only modes of self-defense to be his own fists which Eclipse was currently holding. 

“Eclipse, I promise I did not make you!” Ruin cried, hating how weak and vulnerable he sounded and how that only seemed to fuel Eclipse’s malevolent intent. “If I made you, I would not have you- have you kidnap me! W-What do I have to gain from making you, hm? Nothing!”

“Shut up if you know what’s best for you,” Eclipse hissed, using his free hand to grip where Ruin’s chin should be with enough force to leave dents in the faceplate. Ruin squirmed in discomfort, trying to think of something, anything to get himself out of this situation, but his mind failed him. “Enough stalling. The more time I waste, the more likely Moon is to find you. That is, if he even wants to find you.”

The last sentence echoed in Ruin’s mind like a gunshot, leaving him wondering what Moon was doing with the information he had been given on Ruin’s whereabouts. Had he put in any effort to come and find him, or was he continuing on with his day in hopes that Eclipse would one day return him? He wondered how Moon would feel to find his destroyed body outside the daycare. Would he feel guilt? Remorse? Before he could think about what Moon was doing any further, the feeling of Eclipse releasing his chin pulled him back to the present.

Eclipse released Ruin’s wrists, turning on his heels and making his way towards the entrance to the cell as if he was changing his mind last minute. The tension that had built up in Ruin’s shoulders didn’t release, pulling himself into a sitting position as he wondered what the abrupt change of heart could possibly mean. That was until his entire body seized as an electric shock tore through his body, Eclipse turning around with that wicked smile of his to watch as Ruin writhed in pain.

Someone was screaming. They were screaming so loud that Ruin wanted nothing more than to lift his hands to the sides of his faceplate and attempt to block out the sound, but his arms refused to move as yet another shock coursed through his body. He was screaming. He was in agony and Eclipse was enjoying every second of it. As the burning of the latest shock slowly tapered off, giving Ruin a moment of relief, hatred that he had never experienced before swelled in his chassis. The moment he was given the chance, he would make sure Eclipse suffered the agony and terror he felt. However, that hatred was soon forgotten as another wave of pain coursed through his body.

“MOON! SOLAR! P-Please, someone help me!” Ruin screamed, his cries mixing with the sound of Eclipse’s laughter. “PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!” 

“Aw, isn’t that cute? Ruin is crying for help,” Eclipse cooed mockingly, walking up to where Ruin was curled up on the ground once more, trembling from pure terror and the aftermath of the electrocutions. “Too bad I’m the only one that can hear you and your precious Moon and Solar won’t be here to help you anytime soon. It would be a miracle if they come for you at all! Now…what next?”

“E-Eclipse, please…” Ruin pleaded, grasping at the hem of Eclipse’s pantaloons. The fabric was familiar and comforting underneath his fingertips, helping him think clearly through the haze of pain that muddled his mind. The familiarity was short lived as Eclipse swatted his hand away with a disgusted scowl. “I-I think that was more than enough torture for the day. Surely I could- could prove to you that I did not make you. Th-There’s no need to torture me for something I did not do.”

“You’re right, why didn’t I think of that sooner! We could talk this out and everything will be just fine!” Eclipse cried as if he had come to an enlightening conclusion, before abruptly grabbing Ruin’s arm as tugging it with such force that it was struggling to remain within the socket. “BULLSHIT!” 

Ruin shrieked in pain, reaching out and grasping Eclipse’s arm and attempting to loosen his grip, but the taller animatronic held on for dear life, refusing to let go. Ruin could feel his arm socket creaking, white hot pain radiating through his shoulders and throughout his body as wires were agonizingly pulled from their proper positions. After one painful yank from Eclipse, he could suddenly no longer feel his arm at all. He was barely aware of the loud thud his dismembered arm made when it hit the concrete floor or the sound of Eclipse’s laughter. Everything felt as if it were surrounded in a thick haze of agony and exhaustion. The last thing he saw before his optics flickered out was the piercing white of Eclipse’s eyes. 

_____________

“Ruin? Ruin! Speak to us if you can!” 

Slowly, the world started to come into focus. First came his sense of sound, next his vision. As Ruin’s optics readjusted, he could see Moon kneeling next to him, waving his hands in front of Ruin’s face. He couldn’t move or speak even if he wanted to. The incapacitating burning pain that spread throughout his body made the thought of moving the slightest inch or speaking a single word unbearable. Ruin could see someone’s shoes lingering in the doorway, trying to croak out a warning, but all that came out was a harsh squeak of feedback.

“He’s alive, Solar. Not in good condition, but he’s alive,” Moon stated, turning his head towards the figure standing in the doorway. It bothered Ruin the way the lunar animatronic didn’t sound the slightest bit relieved. It almost sounded as if he could have died, and Moon couldn’t have cared less. “We’re gonna bring you back to the daycare, okay? Solar, help me lift him up.”

Ruin was only partially aware of Moon taking his remaining arm over his shoulder and hoisting him into a standing position, Solar pressing himself against Ruin’s damaged half to serve as additional support. He was grateful that Solar and Moon had come to rescue him, but underneath the relief was a multitude of other emotions he was too exhausted to explore at the moment. There was hatred towards Eclipse, betrayal and hurt towards the people he considered his friends and anger towards himself for not being able to stand up against a threat. He felt his head drifting down to rest against his chest as they made their way out of the bunker, Solar pushing it back up.

“Stay with us, Ruin. We’re sorry we didn’t get here sooner, but we’ll have you fixed up in no time,” Solar promised, his voice much softer than Moon’s had been. It wasn’t entirely sympathetic, but it made Ruin feel at least somewhat comforted. 

“Barrier….Eclipse…” Ruin croaked, only now wondering how the two of them managed to get through the magical barrier Eclipse had put up to keep him from escaping, and quite possibly to keep anyone from rescuing him.

“We’ll talk about that once you’re better. Let’s focus on getting you back to the daycare,” Moon replied, readjusting his hold on Ruin. 

A tense, yet somewhat comforting silence fell over them as Solar and Moon led the way back to the place Ruin one day hoped to call home. It had been a terrifying day, but the knowledge that he was alive and would soon feel better was enough to put him at ease. Once he recovered, Ruin vowed that he would prove to the celestial family that he was trustworthy and could be considered a friend. Until then, he was glad to be going back to the comfort of the arcade.

[xappetites]

point of intersection

John Price x f!Reader | Lieutenant John Price finds himself trying to resolve a hostage situation with nothing but a blessedly reasonable and cooperative diplomat and a bureaucratic system that's more concerned with covering their own ass than the lives left behind | word count: 3,421

1. the vault | Jakarta

The worst day of your life starts as any other does. The same chaos commute, the same boring paperwork of looking over everything the ambassador doesn’t have time —doesn’t deign himself— to deal with.

Rubber stamping in and rubber stamping out, the familiar monotony of bureaucratic work on foreign soil.

Then, as noon crawls around through the mud of the day, the alarms go off.

You know they’re there, have known, in theory, all along. This office pod carved out of an ancient bank building was sold to every soul as the state of the art in security the moment you set foot in its checkerboard lobby. That doesn’t mean that the sound isn’t anything but confusing for the first couple seconds of it, followed closely by the screaming. The very many footsteps bolting away from the center of the building, towards the stairs, running for the exits. And it has you standing before you fully process it, phone and wallet in hand. 

You try to follow the herd, away from the ambassador’s corner office, past the bathroom door that swings open almost in your face only to show a haggard George Ogilvey, the First Secretary to your Second Secretary, with his shirt still half out of his waistband and a laptop bag hanging from each shoulder.

Against all odds, George smiles at you. He’s charming, handsome and a right bastard if you’ve known him for more than half an hour, but he sort of likes you. Treats you like the embassy’s pet because you keep to yourself and do your work; not to mention, you look younger than you are and report mostly to him. So you figure it feeds his ego to think of himself as your ‘mentor’ in the ‘scary, crime ridden streets’ of Jakarta. Like he’d know the streets of Jakarta, taking every lunch with the ambassador on plush sofas. Or, frankly, as if London is any better.

“Here,” he shoves one of the bags your way, nearly catching you in the knees with it, “let’s go.”

It’s instinct too, to toss the strap over your shoulder, shuffling sideways to make way for him and all his bluster.

“What's happening?”

“An emergency? I have no more details, caught me in the middle of something, dear.”

He’s a step ahead of you down this horrid long hallway, so he luckily doesn’t see the sneer you don’t have the wherewithal to hide at the moment. He should know, he has to. George was supposed to be in the archives down on the ground floor, a straight shot from both a bathroom and the fire door to the back of the building, with no need to risk his hide to reach the first floor unless he knew he had to get these computers out no matter what.

“Weren’t—” the little color band in his calendar comes up in your head like a neon sign, “weren’t you supposed to be with the interns in archives?”

“Nature called. I’m sure the kids heard the alarm too.”

You stare at his back as he rounds the corner to the main stairway, blending in with the stragglers. You both know that’s horseshit. The archive room, windowless and musty and hell hot most of the year, used to be the bank's vault; the walls are too thick to drill through, so there’s no PA system installed in it and the sound is so deadened there that the building could collapse around it without anyone inside even noticing.

A gunshot rings out from the front, a chorus of screams and on its heels a shout in accented english:

We are looking for your ambassador, the rest of you have thirty seconds to leave the building.  

The voice, a man, repeats his sentence, louder this time, with another shot to make his point. George looks back at you, more than a little annoyed that you won’t just be a good little girl and panic so he can rescue you.

“C’me on—“ he reaches for you, waving his hand in the universal gesture for ‘move’ . But you’re not frozen, or whatever it is that he assumes, you’re just making a split second decision.

And maybe it’s because of that assumption that he can hardly call out for you when you turn in the opposite direction, sprinting for the emergency stairs that run throughout the back of the building.

It’s insane, you’re aware, the sudden rage in your chest that has you stumbling forward out of sheer stubbornness, narrowly avoiding a wipe out when you hit the landing. Barreling your way past the heavy door to archives, propped open with the usual old broomstick.

You sour the mood immediately. Three sets of eyes look up, alarmed, to take in the absolute mess you are at the moment. But you can’t even verbalize the danger you’re all apparently in before the same voice that boomed instructions reaches you. Which means he’s close, too close— enough for you to catch a glimpse of body armor reflected on a nearby glass door.

Now, in clear sharp russian, the man seals your fate; leaving you no choice but to kick the broom away and lock the vault door behind you.

Seal the building, find the ambassador, get rid of whoever’s left. 

…

Calling them kids is a bit unfair, actually. The youngest of this group of fresh graduates is no more than four years your junior. All of 20 years old and stuck in a shithole office halfway around the world, with russian paramilitary on the other side of the door and nothing but you, holding up your hands to shush them, on this one.

“What—?”

Someone tries, only to have you shoving your open palms more aggressively in their general direction. It’s silent, eerily, for a second that feels eternal. Then the locking mechanism clicks, sliding like an icy drop of panic down your spine. The handle jiggles in your grip but it doesn’t give, and the harsh buzzing that indicates a wrong code blares through the room.

It happens again: click, jiggle, buzz. And once more for a third time. Those are the sole sounds you can make out, no muttering or nothing, though you’re sure there has to be talking out there. You’d settle for simple swearing at this point just to have a better idea of what’s happening.

There’s not even footsteps when everything stops, merely the fact that you can’t stay this tense forever, so you end up slumped against the cool metal of the door.

“What the hell?”

Now it’s a curt whisper, from the same girl as before. Pearl, you think, or Opal, maybe? It’s not like you’re exactly familiar with any of them, you haven’t spoken to a single one for more than passing pleasantries. They exist in the periphery, spending their half days here doing whatever admin work other people don’t feel like doing. Which inspires in you some notion of siblinghood, but nothing more than the kind of empathy your row of prefabs shared throughout your childhood back home. The bone deep surety that you’re all stuck together in a less than desirable spot. 

“There’s people out there, armed, all men, I think. Russian.”

You try not to make it a shocked mumble, still catching your breath as physical sensation comes back to you in pieces. The sweat running down the back of your neck, the soreness of rolling your ankle at the foot of the stairs and the strap digging into your shoulder. 

That tickles an idea in your mind, has you moving to set the bag down and wrestle the laptop free. 

“Are you—? Is this a fucking joke?”

The computer in your hands is a Macbook Pro, maxed specs, from late last year. You remember because it had fallen on you to put in the request for them. Twinsies, one for the ambassador and one for good ol’ George.

“Do I look like I’m taking the piss?” You blink up at Pearl/Opal, laptop hoisted in the crook of your elbow while the other hand digs around the back of the nearest desk for an ethernet cable, begging to whatever might be listening for a flash of luck on this shit day.

“We didn’t hear any alarms”

“Nor the gunshots, I’m sure, or you wouldn’t still be in this room.”

That comment sends a chill across the space, stunning everyone where they stand, including you. It makes you consider that perhaps you were supposed to offer some comfort in this situation, older and higher up the bureaucracy chain that you are.

“It’s the fucking thick walls,” you amend, much softer, “good thing is that they can’t hear us out there either.”

The cheery tune of the computer startup finally shakes them into a flurry of hushed questions you have no answers for. Like ‘why are they here’ and ‘what are we gonna do’ . 

You don’t know . But at least the picture that comes up is a very professional portrait of the ambassador. And now this is an answer to your prayers, because this is the one password you’re privy to; and this is the only laptop in the building with full open access to the security systems. 

Funny, a stray corner of your brain thinks, that the ambassador was so insistent on blowing the budget on good cameras just to catch his own kidnapping in hi def.

The feed pulls up, tiny windows to the world outside this fucking vault, each with their own little button for sound, all except for the very office three of the russians are currently breaking into. It’s unsettling for it to be this quiet, watching both sides of the fancy double doors as they bend and give in a rush of motion. Black gear against crisp white shirt and no doubt of who’ll win in the end.

“What are you doing?”

“They have the ambassador.” You croak it out, gesturing vaguely at the screen, flinching against your will at imagining the sound of the fists currently meeting flesh in the ambassador’s office. “The sink in the tea corner still works, right?”

Someone nods, so you stand as steady as you can, walk straight as possible over to the adjacent room, the weird amalgamation of server room and kitchen that keeps the tiny metal drawers of the safe room, stacked floor to ceiling over the far wall, as a postmodern sort of decoration. You run your hands under the blessedly cold water for a second or two and then offer your breakfast back up, the one good thing this god awful day hadn’t taken from you.

…

You’re still heaving when Matthew, whose name you only know because George has taken to call him Mild Matt behind his back, comes looking for you.

He doesn’t offer sympathies, gladly. Just stands in the doorway looking like he doesn’t quite know how to interrupt your very important meeting with the contents of your own stomach.

“Pearl’s counted the men,” he watches you nod and swish a mouthful of water to try and focus back on solutions to the problem, instead of the blood pouring out of the ambassador’s nose, “there’s seven the cameras can see, two on the back and the main doors and the three in the ambassador’s office.”

“Okay–”

It shouldn’t matter, at this point you’re sure the normal annoyances of sharing a limited space are the least of anyone’s problems; but you fish out a half stale peppermint cream out of a bowl anyway, to try and wash away the taste and smell of vomit before you step back into the archives room.

“What’s— what— why“

You look at Matthew where he follows you, really take a second to see what George considers mildness and you only now understand as a mind running too fast for the mouth that speaks for it.

“I really don’t know, I wasn’t thinking we’d end up trapped in the building, being honest.”

“So—” Pearl looks up from the computer, catching wind of the conversation, but the girl standing next to her is faster this time. Marie, with the same name as your sister; who you keep your distance from, to avoid finding out if she has the same personality too.

“Did Ogilvey leave us? On purpose?”

Bile rises again in your throat, this time with the same sort of rage that got you in this mess.

“Yes,” it comes out like a croak, hoarse and sharp, “I ran into him coming out of the bathroom upstairs.”

“There’s a bathroom right next door here—“

“I know, but those were up there.”

Marie doesn’t deflate when you point out the computer, just turns to Pearl looking so hopeful that you doubt for a second if what came out of your mouth was, in fact, what you meant to say.

“Okay, well if they want the computer we can give it to them and be done with this, right?”

“Wait—“ both remaining interns beat you to the punch, Pearl clinging to the laptop and Matt moving in to block the path to the door.

“They won’t hesitate to kill us, if we give them what they want they’ll have no reason to let us live.”

The sentence beats a rough rhythm against your ribs, spilling rushed out of you. It’s reasonable, it’s the correct response; but you can’t hold it against Marie that she throws her hands up in the air and paces.

“Then what the fuck do we do? Shouldn’t we call someone? The police?”

You’re pretty sure the police know already. If not by the less than subtle entrance that started this whole thing, by some of the understandably hysterical workers that did manage to make it out. You nod anyway. Move out of the way to let them beeline for the closest office phone and take guard in front of the camera feed instead.

There’s a lot more blood now, in a silence so eerie that it makes you unmute the camera right outside the vault as background noise. The long hallway to the back exit and the steady footsteps of the men assigned to keep an eye on it.

A low hum comes with it; just the crackling of empty air that the camera’s microphone picks up. And you think at first you’ve gotten lost in it enough that it feels like it’s vibrating against your skin. Until you realize it’s your own cellphone going off in your back pocket.

It’s a scramble to pick it up, though you don’t recognize the number; because frankly, very few things could make this situation worse. So unless you’re about to hear that there’s an asteroid heading for this building specifically, the smooth, deep voice on the phone that asks to confirm your name and rank is a welcome one.

“Lieutenant John Price, SAS,” he offers in return and you immediately take back that earlier thought, no matter how nice he sounds.

You know her majesty’s timing as well as any bureaucrat, so you expected nothing but six lines in tomorrow’s Guardian, if that. SAS means this random hostage situation is important for crown and country, which means shit is far bigger, far worse than you could ever imagine.

…

This is never something John wants to do, which, in fairness, can be said about many things in his line of work. But within the specifics of hostage situations, contact with someone on the inside holds far too many variables for his taste.

He can’t ever know for sure what kind of mindspace they’re in, how useful the interaction would be for either side. Then there’s the expectation, natural and understandable, that his presence itself is an assurance of safety. That he’ll promise to get them out no matter what, which isn’t something John ever allows himself to do. He might not be a good person, but he will not bet a life on that lie. Especially not with some diplomat or other breathing down everyone’s neck about a fucking laptop.

George Ogilvey, John commits the name and face to memory, just in case he loses the man in the crowd. Though, at the moment, it seems unlikely, no matter how hard he wishes to not have him following close along the makeshift blockade.

“—you do understand how dangerous it would be for the ambassador’s laptop to fall in unwanted hands?” Ogilvey makes the same point he’s been prattling on about since John’s team got here, unrelenting and completely fucking useless. “Last I saw it it was with my Second Secretary, but I doubt she’ll hold under torture if it gets to that, her name is—“

“I have her file,” the man has the gall to scoff when John dismisses the twentieth iteration of this title-name-phone number litany, waving his phone in his hand so the asshole can see it clearly trying to connect as he walks away. 

It takes a minute longer than he’d like, but the woman who takes the call is steady on the line, and she listens politely as he does his own knee jerk title-name spiel to explain why he’s here.

“They have the ambassador in his office,” is the first thing she says, shit news and useful information in the same measured tone -all in all, better than he expected, “we’re stuck in what used to be the vault but we have access to the security feed.”

Then a second’s pause, a hopeless little chuckle.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

It hits John weird in the chest, the fact that under the sharp, rushed breathing pattern of fear and the conscious decision to remain calm, he can hear genuine curiosity from her.

“They’re threatening the ambassador’s life for their demands—“

“And the Crown wants him alive.”

“Not for anything good”

It’s a slip up, which John hopes will get lost under the sudden ruckus of voices that erupts on the other end of the line. This woman is a hostage, no matter how cooperative, not part of his team. And the fact that he adopted her as if she was, so immediately, sends a thrum of worry down to the pit of his stomach.

“Are there more people with you?”

“Three interns,” she answers. Interns Ogilvey failed to mention, three lives that are clearly not as important to the man when they don’t happen to be in possession of what he wants. “Could I put you on speaker?”

There’s a beat of hesitation where he wonders how good of an idea that is, with the level of noise these interns have proven themselves capable of. But the Second Secretary must still carry some sort of weight even now, because there’s anxious silence to greet him when he finally agrees, just the unmistakable hollow sort of reverberation of speakerphone.

“We’re ready for you, lieutenant.”

No, you’re not. He thinks. No one is ready for what he’s about to tell them. Hell, if it was him in there he’d have strong opinions about the paper pushing cunt who decided on this approach.

“They’ve sent us a negotiator, at the request of your First Secretary, ETA is ten minutes.”

“A negotiator?” Another woman’s voice cut in, more frantic than the Second Secretary but still quite measured. “Why can’t you just come in?”

“Command’s deemed the risk to the ambassador’s life unnecessary.”

“What about our lives?”

John lets the silence drag on for a second more than he normally would, not because he doesn’t know what to say but because the least he can do, when it took this long for someone in there to break, is not be unkind. They know their survival has been deemed a non essential, they don’t need him to verbalize it to them any more than he already has.

In the background, the line lights up again with a shuffle, a clatter, a sob choked back. Another explosion of noise that moves into the distance as he’s taken off speaker. He feels it as tension running down his spine, thinking he’s lost connection to the only point he has into this mess.

“Right,” the second secretary comes back though, still measured, and he’s starting to think that it’s not out of a stellar handling of the situation at hand, but of a general lack of trust in the system that landed her where she is “so you’re not our extraction team. What can we do for our chances?”

“Stay put,” it’s logic, it’s all he can give her. It’s not enough, “And stay on the line.”

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

angel of small death, chapter three

Daryl x OC Slowburn

Summary for entire work: Piper, a 19 year old girl, alongside her 16 year old sister, Dina, are thrust into a dead-infested wasteland of the world they once knew. Having had a difficult home life before turn, will this new world be a sweet release?

<< T H R E E >>

It’s been hours since the group left to go get Merle back and the camp was tense; not sure if they were okay was getting to everyone, especially Lori. Amy and Andrea decided to go onto the water and go fishing for the camp to have later and managed to catch enough to fill everyone’s stomachs and help to distract everyone for a while from the fact that our family and friends could be dead right now. I can’t help but think about the Dixon brothers…I mean what would I do if Dina was chained to a roof by a stranger? Is he alive? He would definitely kill Rick for chaining and leaving him there- what about the others? What if-

 “Hey, you listening to me?” Dina snaps me out of my thoughts as we continue to prep the fish for the fire in front of us, “I said we should ask Amy and Andrea to teach us how to fish like this; we would be set for life!” She half jokes and glances up at me, “Are you alright?”

I stop and think quietly to myself, am I?

“I’m fine.”

After a while as it gets dark everyone is distracted and enjoying themselves with the fish feast, but I cannot bring myself to feel anything but alert as everyone chats amongst themselves. I hear a twig snap behind us in the woods and my head spins towards it, wide eyed, however everyone else seemed unphased and in their own bubbles of conversation to notice that something was wrong. Turning back to the group I continue eating my fish and try to listen in on the conversations around me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety.

“…Jeez you try to be discrete around here…” Amy jokes as she gets up to go to the RV and we all laugh. She disappears into the bathroom for a minute, and I chat with Dina, only to be interrupted by Amy reemerging, “We’re out of toilet paper?” she asks in disbelief and as we turn our heads up to her a walker approaches and bites a chunk out of her forearm.

All we hear are screams, and walkers are suddenly surrounding the camp and closing in on us as I get Dina and myself up. I protectively grip my knife with one hand and hold her behind me with the other. It all happened so fast but before I knew it other members of the camp were being eaten alive to both sides of me.

“Get over to the RV, now!” Shane shouts out to everyone. I grab my sister’s wrist and drag her alongside myself, making our way over to him, however as we are running, I feel myself being dragged backwards and the sudden motion has me landing flat on my back, winding myself. Writhing on the ground and gasping for air I smack the ground trying to feel for Dina’s hand but only feeling the dry grass. Then I hear her scream- bloodcurdling. And then a gunshot over my head. I get up onto my hands and knees and fight through the pains shooting through my back.

“DINA!” I cry out and throw my body towards hers, which is covered by a walker that she is holding above herself, watching her arms buckle I try to get to her as fast as my crawling body would let me. I stop in my tracks as an arrow pierces the head of the now dead and lifeless corpse that is now collapsed onto Dina. I look up to see that Daryl, as well as the others that went to get Merle, have arrived without him and are now saving us from being devoured. Daryl makes his way over to us both and holds a hand towards me, seeing me struggling to catch my breath still, and I take it, pulling myself up awkwardly close to his face making both of our cheeks flush shades of pink feeling his heavy breathing on my face. I look down towards my feet and clear my throat stepping back and towards Dina, who is now standing up slowly, helping her stand next to me. All three of us look around at the surrounding carnage as a few people take out the final few walkers. The camp is suddenly silent again aside from quiet sniffles and tears from a few people.

“Thank you.” I say quietly towards Daryl as I hold my now crying sister close. He nods to me but doesn’t meet my eyes, walking away from us and towards everyone else.

I don’t get any sleep all night as I spend the night in the tent with Dina, who is sleeping like a rock. It was so close to her…It almost got her…if it wasn’t for Daryl then she would have ended up like Amy- oh god, Amy. The stress and shock from the attack had distracted me from the gore of Amy dying. She got tore apart in front of us all- in front of Andrea. That almost happened to us.

I decided to leave the tent and to join everyone else in the middle of the camp, trailing off on my own to find Daryl, who is now stabbing the heads of those who were bitten and were now dead.

“Hey, Daryl?” Awkwardly I approach him and he continues stabbing the dead in the head. He just grunts in response. “Thank you, for saving us- for saving her- it means the world to me.” He doesn’t look up and continues stabbing their heads.

“That it?” He asks grumpily, clearly frustrated.

“Yeah…sorry for bothering you…”I turn and begin to leave but feel an urge to say more.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your brother.”

It goes quiet as I hear that he stops stabbing for a moment.

“'Is what it is.”

~~~

A/N sorry about the delay guys ive been super busy but i hope you all enjoy this!

taglist:

@azanoni

@parasite--girl

[entropicquilibriumofchaos]

Take a Walk

Saga Anderson & Alex Casey

Agents Anderson and Casey are on a particularly challenging case. Casey supports his partner by opening up about his own struggles.

Read it on ao3

“Do you even blink?”

Casey was pulled out of his thoughts by Saga’s voice, who had just popped into his peripheral vision. She held out a paper coffee cup and he grabbed it without redirecting his gaze at her. 

“What makes you say that?” he mused, not taking his eyes off of the evidence board in front of him. There was something he was missing; some connection that was just outside of his grasp. He sipped from the cup, grateful for the burn of the hot coffee down his throat. 

Saga sidled up next to him and crossed her arms, setting her cup in the crook of her elbow. “Because you’ve been staring at this board for three hours now and I’m surprised your eyes haven’t shriveled up and fallen out of your head.”

Casey grimaced. “Seen that. Not a pretty sight,” he said gruffly. 

His partner’s face screwed up in disgust. “Really?”

Finally, he pried his eyes from the board and gave her a serious look before snorting. “No, I’m pulling your chain.”

With a groan, she hit him lightly in the shoulder as they both turned from the board. Casey went over to his desk to set the coffee down before cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders back to relieve the tension in them. Saga pulled a file out of the drawer of another desk and let it flop down onto Casey’s. They sat down on opposite sides of his desk as he began to pull the contents of the file out and spread them across the table (knocking some empty coffee cups into the garbage at the same time). 

“Let’s go back over what we know,” Casey suggested, pulling out a pocket notebook and flipping through a few pages before setting it down. 

“We’ve got three separate homicides along the Wisconsin - Michigan border in a two week period,” Anderson recited, “All three victims were white females in their early twenties that had been reported missing from Northern Wisconsin in the past two months by family.”

Casey nodded, pulling out the pictures of three deceased subjects and laying them side-by-side. “What else?”

Anderson continued. “Bruising around the wrists and ankles suggests that the victims were bound for a time before their deaths. Two of the victims had defensive marks on their wrists and forearms. All three victims had cracked and bruised ribs that occurred antemortem and water found in their lungs. Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the forehead.” She placed the autopsy reports for all the victims next to their pictures. 

“So they were repeatedly drowned and brought back to life before being shot,” Casey summarized, scratching at his forehead absent-mindedly. “Our killer has a god-complex.”

“He’s obsessed with his power over their lives.” Saga added, “He drowns them and then brings them back over and over again until he gets bored of them.” 

The agents sat back and both took drinks of their coffees. 

“There has to be some sort of connection between the victims,” Saga mumbled, standing up and going back to the evidence board. Hung up there was a map of Wisconsin and Northern Michigan with multiple locations marked in red. Casey followed and took his place at her side. 

“We should be getting some results on the water found in their lungs back from the lab soon,” Casey stated, “Maybe that’ll connect some of the pieces.”

Saga sighed and shook her head. “God, I hope so. The thought that this guy is still out there is really getting on my nerves.”

Casey turned to look at his partner and gave her a once over. She seemed fine from a distance, but up close he could see the slight movement from her clenching and unclenching her teeth, he could see the beginning of dark circles under her eyes and cracking lips. He thought back to the last time he had seen her eat or drink something other than coffee and found that he couldn’t recall. They had been on this case in Wisconsin for a week now, but before this they had been in Pennsylvania investigating a case of serial arson. It had been two and a half weeks since they had been home.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, turning and grabbing his jacket from off of the back of his office chair. 

She stood there for a second before comprehending what he said. She gave him a confused look. “Why?”

Casey shook his head while slinging his jacket over his shoulders and grabbing hers from her desk. “Just humor me, Anderson.”

Saga just shrugged and took her coat from him before following him through the bullpen and out of the office. They walked in silence through the building and out into the courtyard. The sun was shining, but it was deceptively cold and Saga zipped her jacket up as they exited the building. They strolled along the sidewalk until they came upon a concrete bench that overlooked a small yard of green grass. Casey sat down and nodded to Saga to follow suit. Neither said a word for a while, both of them enjoying the quiet buzz of the town around them compared to the chaos of the office. It wasn’t until the concrete started to feel cold that Saga spoke. 

“Any particular reason you wanted to come out here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He scoffed. “I was getting sick of looking at dead kids.” A moment went by before he continued. “And I wanted to make sure you’re still doing okay.”

Saga wasn’t able to hide her surprise. She had never known Casey to be a particularly touchy-feely person and this was definitely out of character for him. “What?”

“We’ve been away from home for a while and these cases haven’t exactly been cakewalks,” he explained, “I just wanted to make sure that you’re not letting it get to you too much. I know you have your profiling thing to get into the minds of these guys, but I’m worried that you’re losing yourself a bit, Anderson.”

And for a moment, the world fell away. Saga let out a deep sigh as she felt a heavy weight settle onto her shoulders and she stooped under the weight ever-so-slightly. 

He was right, and she knew it. 

“I miss Logan. And David,” she admitted, “And I can’t stop thinking that somewhere out there there is a mom who just lost her baby girl and I can’t help but internalize that.”

In an uncharacteristic move, Casey put an arm around his partner’s shoulder and pulled her a little closer. He didn’t say anything; he just let her breathe in the comfort that he provided and she found herself leaning into him slightly. 

“I keep having these nightmares that Logan is going through what these girls did and there’s nothing I can do to save her,” Saga said quietly. 

Casey turned to face her fully. “I understand,” he confessed. “When I first started, I would have these nightmares where people around me would be dying and I’d just be there, frozen; unable to do anything to help them.”

They made eye contact before he continued.

“But that’s all they are. Nightmares,” he assured. “And trust me, anyone who would want to get to Logan or David would have a hell of a time getting past one of the best agents this bureau’s ever seen. Oh, and I’d be there too.”

Saga laughed quietly, wiping a bit of wetness from her eyes. “Thanks, Casey. I guess I’ve been internalizing this more than I realized.”

“Happens to the best of us, kid,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to help her up as well. “But you’ve got people to talk to. No more lone ranger stories for either of us.”

“That’s my line,” she huffed, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. 

Casey laughed. “Come on,” he replied, “I’m freezing my ass off out here and I’m out of coffee.”