#no killing hates guns could save the world but come back to his house and hace nothing but a single egg on his fridge

[obxthornton]

Ladylike (Wolverine/Logan x Fem!Reader)

Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N just wants to be a little more "ladylike" for Logan.

Warnings: Cursing, light Dom reader and Sub Logan, Subjective use of what 'ladylike' is. 

WC: 2335

I had never been particularly fond of making myself look nice, especially on missions. Saving the world wasn't for the weak and was definitely not for a full face of makeup. By the end of the day, you would have mascara and eyeliner dripping down your face along with blood. It was simply easier not to get dolled up. Sure when I went out to the bars or to dinner I looked nice. Full faces of makeup were for those kind of things. Fighting and killing, however, not so much.

But here I was, applying mascara to my eyelashes while Wade banged on the door. "Princess, saving the world can't wait for you much longer!" He yelled kindly, but banging on the door again. "And I certainly can wait to piss either." I sighed dropping my makeup back in my bag and unlocking the door. "Thank you peanut," Wade said pressing a kiss to my cheek before pulling down his pants to piss, not waiting for me to leave.

"Woah. Park it fancy fuck." Wade said as I was leaving. I didn't turn around but I did stay in the doorway. Sounds of his urinating filled the bathroom. "What?" I asked rolling my eyes at my roommate.  "You got shit on your face. And not the normal shit. Date night shit. All over. False advertisement right there. And your tits our out. Mind telling me who you got all dolled up for?" Wade flushed the toilet and I walked out of the room, him following. "Drop it asshole," I said zipping up my suit higher and grabbing my guns from the counter, making sure the clips were full and stuffing them in my side holsters. I grabbed my knives next, checking them over.

Last week Wade and I had spent long hours discussing the housing arrangement if I were to get a partner. "What do you mean a partner? What's wrong with me? Your sexual, emotional, and fighting partner?"  I rolled my eyes at his words, "Shut the hell up Wade, you'll scare all my options away." Wade had scoffed and motioned around the room, "Wolvie isn't here, you are fine. Besides, you're scaring him away yourself." I narrowed my eyes at the man, my arms crossed. "What the hell do you mean?" Wade simply shrugged, kicking his feet as he sat on the couch. "Wolvie wants a lady, not some killer who will keep him on a leash for all of eternity." I used my foot to kick his leg, "I am a lady!"  Wade shrugged, "Only where it counts. You are a dominant entity and that's okay!! I'm very much into that. Logan likes a nice ladylike woman." I told him to shut up, but his words stuck a little more than I had hoped.

The door to our apartment swung open revealing a pissed off man. A pissed off man who looked at me and shoved a finger in my face. "You take too long." He stated. My eyes were big staring up at the man. Logan had become my weakness lately, a weakness I didn't even know I had. I was always bossy and blunt, never taking a liking to trying to impress or be giddy around a man. But Logan. It was like I couldn't help but never know what to say. My mouth went dry and my heart sped up and I'm sure he could hear it. It was only him. He was the only exception. I snapped out of it, pushing his finger away with a knife, "Cool it Wolv boy."

"She was getting all ladylike for you. That's why she took so long," Wade said behind me. I turned around and plunged the knife into his stomach. "Shut the hell up, Wade," I muttered twisting it lightly. "Aren't you just a kinky Son of a gun? A little longer of this and I'll probably cum."  I rolled my eyes and pulled the knife out, wiping it on my suit. "I hate you," I muttered. "Oo that's the spot." Rolling my eyes once again I turned back to Logan, shoving my knife in the strap. "Come on."

Wade knew about my soft spot for Logan. The day that we had encountered him, Wade had introduced himself and I stayed silent, eyes wide. Wade had wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "Lots of knocks to the head. She may be immortal but she still has a lot of scaring up there. She goes by Y/N, and you'll love her once you get over the hatred in her heart-" I cut him off by pushing his arm off, turning around slowly, and death glaring at Wade. "My time to stay quiet." He mumbled, sighing, and walking away. Logan had looked down at me, smiling, "If you can make him shut up like that every time, we'll get along just fine." 

I walked out the door, not seeing if the boys were following. I let out a sigh of relief to avoid an awkward situation. I silently cursed myself however for stabbing Wade, that wasn't very ladylike. I suddenly became aware of my body. Was any of it ladylike? Was my ass big enough, was my waist thin enough. I had never once in my life worried about any of this stuff. Never in my life had I ever felt insecure or uncomfortable in my skin. I mean I never had to, Wade kept the compliments flooding for miles. Always pushing that boundary of workplace harassment. 

"Pissed isn't a good look on you with all that cake on your face." Wade's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I didn't turn to look at him, but sent my fist out, punching him in the cheek. "Ow princess. That's not very nice. Or ladylike in front of Wolvie over there." I stopped in my tracks and turned to Wade, pulling my knife out of my pocket and showing him against the brick wall next to us. I held the knife up to his face, my forearm against his throat. "You need to shut the fuck up about all of this! If I hear one more goddamn word about any of this I swear I'm going to make you wish you could die, you hear me?" I yelled at the boy, shoving him deeper and deeper into the wall. I could practically see Wade's smile under his mask. It pissed me off. I shoved my knife into his chest before I was ripped away from him.  "What the hell has gotten into you today?" Logan yelled shoving me away from Wade. I was aware of everything again. If it was anyone else, anyone else, I would take them on and slice them up. But this was Logan.  His eyes pierced my soul and his face was daring, asking me to punch that look right off of him. But I didn't, "get out of my way," I huffed pushing past him.

-

The day had been long. I desired to go back to my room and take a shower, washing off the sin of today. Blood and dirt caked into my skin and on my suit, the black color speckled with red. I had tuned out Wade's comments or he had stopped saying them, I wasn't sure. 

When we got back to the apartment, Wade pushed past me and Logan, causing us both to stumble. "Dibs on shower!" He yelled racing into the bathroom and locking the door as if we would try to fight him for it. I sighed knowing I was too tired to do such a thing. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the top cabinet in my kitchen before going over the couch and stretching over it. I flicked off the cap, sending it flying to the other side of the room before I put the bottle lip to lips and took a long sip. I felt the alcohol seep into my system, making my wounds feel a tad better. 

Logan came over and looked at the side of the couch displeasingly before he pushed my legs off and sat down. I moved my legs back on top of his lap and took another sip of the bottle before passing it to him. He pushed my legs off of him with one hand as he brought the bottle up to his lips. "No." He stated. I sighed and sat up. "So what's actually up with you?" He asked out of the blue. I grabbed the bottle from him and took a long sip. "Nothing," I said defensively. Logan rolled his eyes, "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. You've been letting shithead get on your nerves a lot more these days." I shrugged and poured more of the liquid into my mouth. "He annoying." Logan chuckled, "Yes I know." He grabbed the bottle back and leaned on the couch arm, spreading his legs. "Come on. We can't have you like this. What's in that head of yours?" 

I sighed praying that the alcohol would seep into my bloodstream. "He's been saying I need to be more ladylike," I muttered looking down at my spread legs before crossing them. "Who the hell cares about that?" Logan said as if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. "I've been on this earth for 150 years. And not once, not once have I ever cared about what a man thinks about me." I said, taking a long sip from the bottle, "but then I met you. And suddenly I cared about everything. I cared about how you perceived me because for some reason you're perfect. Some fucked up joke it is. Never caring about what men thought of me because they were just so inferior and mortal." I chuckled and drank out of the bottle again, "Yet you, you're just like me. Stuck with this curse of caring forever. And I'll drink to that." 

Logan shook his head and grabbed the bottle before it hit my lips, "you aren't making any sense y/n." I groaned and leaned my head back, "You're hot Logan! You're hot and you fuel all my daddy and abandonment issues. Is that what you want me to say? It's gods sick joke that you made me for me down to the T of even being fucking immortal, yet we won't be together." Logan scoffed. Scoffed. As if what I said was completely unheard of and a challenge. "Why not?" His voice filled with anger as if I had just spoken insane claims. "Because lo, I know your type. Your type is not the girl who could kill you, it's the girl that says yes sir and has you dinner made for when you get home." 

He scoffed at those words and stated defensively, "Stop acting like you know me. you know nothing about me y/n." I rolled my eyes at him, grabbed the knife from my belt, and leaned over Logan. I pressed the knife against his throat and looked at him, my legs around his waist as I did. "Come on Logan." I said "This is not attractive. This is not the kind of person you want to get with." I huffed pressing the knife lightly against his skin. Logan's eyes pierced into mine, his hands resting on my back as if to hold me still. One hand reached up and placed it on top of me, pushing the knife deeper into his neck. "Everyone is attracted to you bub." Logan said narrowing his eyes lightly at me."You think everyone is joking when they say things like that because of Wade's fucked up humor, but he's not even joking when he says those things to you." A smirk covered his face, "Wade would fuck you in a heartbeat. Anyone would bub." His eyes narrowed at me lightly. "The knife's cute. You stab Wade all the time with it. It's like you forget I can regenerate too."

It felt like I didn't even drink half a bottle of whiskey because I suddenly realized what was happening. I was straddling the Wolverine with one of his hands on my ass and the other pushing the knife into his neck. "You are crazy Logan." He cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled, "What's crazy is you think you aren't attractive for being strong. Being powerful. This. This is sexy." My eyes were wide, "what did you just say to me?" I asked, trying to move my hand away from his throat and my legs off of him, but his grasp around me stayed firm. His eyes stared up at me, "You are so strong and powerful y/n, it's so hot." Logan said, "I can't be worried if my girl going to be killed or hurt because she can't defend herself. I need someone like you. I need you." He finally let go of my hand and I let it fall to his chest. "oh yeah?" I cooed at the man as I leaned my head down. Logan bit the top of his bottom lip, a smile coming across his face, he nodded. I brushed my bottom lip over his top, smiling lightly. Logan leaned his head up, capturing his lips in mine. Deepening the kiss, I grabbed the back side of his neck, pulling him into me. His stubble burned against my face, it felt so good.

"Are you guys done yet? That was so nice to watch. Needed after a long shower." Wade said, a towel wrapped around his torso and his head. I threw my knife across the room, letting it impale Wade's chest. He looked down at it, flicking it. "Not ladylike Ms. y/n." I rolled my eyes at his comment. He smiled and walked away towards his room. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath. His head popped back over the corner, "ladylike." He said. I threw my other knife straight at where his face was, he screamed but he moved out of the way, leaving it to stick in the wall. Logan smirked, "cute."

[fagfictions]

Father's Day

If anybody had noticed that Jason seemed to be more prickly whenever this time of the year comes around, nobody had the balls to confront him. The rise of violence in Crime Alley during the third Sunday every June, was widely known within Gotham City. Initially, some had thought it was some hate crime during pride month. However, this spike in violence only lasted within that particular Sunday, and never beyond it.

Jason who already woke up on the wrong side of the bed, found an intruder in his base. His survival instincts kicking in mixed with his inherent rage, he pulled a gun out of his multiple safety stashes scattered around his base - and went to go confront the intruder. The figure was in Jason's small kitchen... cooking something, if the delicious smells coming from the kitchen were any indicator. He aimed his gun towards the figure, not wanting to take any chances -only to be met with the familiar gorgeous sight of Timothy Drake.

Tim was dressed in his Sunday's best, looking like a run-of-the-mill Park Avenue Princess in his little mini sun dress and coiffed up-do. Tim smiled at him, and the gun pointed his way, "I know you're happy to see me, but damn."

"What the hell, Babybird?!" Jason looked at a wall clock, it was around 1 p.m. "Aren't you supposed to be cozying up to Bruce in the manor?"

Tim gave him a grin as he finally finished cooking, "He has his own son to do that for him."

Jason raised him an unimpressed eyebrow as if he truly didn't believe Tim. "Fine, I gave Daddy a visit during brunch earlier, and gave him his gift for the day."

There's a cringed expression on Jason's face, "I can't fucking believe you actually call him daddy."

"Someone has to do it since most of you call him Bruce or B, and on the rare occasion, dad." Tim explained without missing a beat, "Let's not forget Damian's incessant calls for father."

"Doesn't seem necessary."

"Trust me, calling Bruce as my Daddy Dearest, has done a lot of good in this world."

"Still doesn't explain what the hell you're doing here."

It was Tim's turn to shoot him with an unimpressed expression. Truthfully, they had been spending more time together for the past year. It was an unusual development going from hating each other to genuinely enjoying each other's company. Jason doesn't know what triggered this development. maybe it was the fact that a year ago, they ended up spontaneously hate-fucking after a bad mission between them.

It was difficult to keep on hating Tim when he's all needy, warm and tight underneath Jason's body. This ended up becoming a habit between them, arguing then letting it all out in the bedroom. Gradually, the bickering and fights dwindled down, yet the intense sex between them never dissipated. Along the way, they also managed to get to know each other better, and Jason found that he really liked Tim. He really liked him.

Jason doesn't want to ruin the thing between them, so he held off from labels. In the back of his mind, he knew Tim was probably the one for him.

"I wanted to spend time with you." Tim answered so easily, as if he wasn't referring to a cold-blooded killer, who had once tried to kill him. "Can we start eating now? I'm famished."

Jason sat down, and started devouring the meal Tim made for him, "Didn't you just say you had brunch with Bruce? Why are you still hungry?"

There was an unusual expression on Tim's face as he brushed off Jason's question, "My appetite's been crazy lately."

"Anyway, you Wayne boys, sure have a penchant for being needy." Tim said after a big bite, "Being demanding must run in the family."

Jason rolled his eyes, "I'm not a-"

"Save it, Jason." Tim interrupted. "You are a Wayne. His second son."

Jason dropped his utensils, "I'm not in the mood to play house today, Timmy." Usually, Jason would love to bicker with Tim, but not today.

"What, so you could go do your annual Father's Day violence spike in Crime Alley?"

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Jason's eyes started to turn emerald.

Suddenly, Tim hugged Jason's arm between his chest, grounding the older man. He then pleaded with those blue eyes, "Then explain it to me, please."

Jason had started to feel his rage dissipating, as he finally resigned to being vulnerable, "Bruce was the closest thing I had to a father, and he..." 'failed me' was unspoken, but understood by both men.

"It feels like this day is mocking me. I'll never have a father, I'll never know what it feels like. I thought I had once, but the universe was clearly playing tricks on me. It's not all out of jealousy and spite." Jason admitted, "I do what I do to ensure that all those other kids out there would still have their fathers. I know my methods are unusual, but at least I get results. These deadbeat dads are too scared to commit any crimes today, which means they are forced to spend time with their families, for even just today."

Repressed tears started falling from his eyes, "So forgive me if I'm not in a fucking celebratory mood."

Tim guided his upset figure to the couch "Do you think you'll ever feel differently about this day, Jason?"

"I don't know. God, I wish I could." Jason knew that healing wasn't exactly linear, "I'm not your responsibility, Timmy. I know I'm fucked up in the head."

"That's not true. Of course, I'd care about you." Tim easily answered, "I love you."

Jason froze, this was the first time one of them vocalized and solidified this thing between them. Tim suddenly left the couch to get something from the kitchen. Jason assumed he left because Jason didn't say it back. When Tim returned, Jason grabbed both of his hands with his palm and looked directly at Tim, as if he was petrified of losing his chance with one of the only good things in his life, "I fucking love you, Babybird."

Tim slinked his way on top of Jason's lap, and wrapped him in a warm embrace. "We'll be here for the long ride, every step of the way."

We? Jason knew Tim meant well, but he's not ready to sing kumbaya with Bruce when they just had this breakthrough. "Listen, Tim, I'm not really ready to celebrate in the manor."

Tim laughed, "Who said anything about celebrating there?" Tim handed him a box with a positive pregnancy test in it, "Happy Father's Day, Jason."

Needless to say, that year was beginning of when Crime Alley had found no spikes in violence during Father's Day in years.

[chaussetteblanche]

the truth

pairing : sierra six x f!reader

summary : sierra is hired to protect you after your publish a controversial book going against multiple governments and something goes wrong during the night

words count : about 1.7k

warnings : canon-typical violence, swearing

notes : might make this into a series, idk

The sound of gunshots downstairs pulled you from your peaceful trance. You hurriedly put your book down and, as quietly as possible, slipped out of the warm and soapy water of your bath. Watery footprints followed you as you went to pull your robe on and grab the gun hidden in the bathroom. In all your years in the field, you’d come to know your way around the weapon and even though you hated using it, you weren’t opposed to it if it meant saving your life. Just as you were around to run into the safe room, as you had been instructed by Six, someone barged into your bedroom. You fell to your knees behind the bathtub, feeling the bruises and your heart hammering inside your chest

—————————

You thought back to how you had gotten yourself in this situation. It had all started months ago, when you’d published your first book. 

Being a journalist with purely political interests and works, you were quite well known around the journalism and political world. Your honesty and carelessness of consequences made you popular amongst the public and you were often invited to talk-shows. You had often been warned about what your wrote. Your boss was always worried about your safety and had insisted that you follow self-defense courses. But no one was safe when rightfully accusing nations of corruption and illegal projects.  You were never really safe, and you knew it.

After spending seven years on an ongoing project, you finally published your first book : The Truth. You denounced the corruption of the European Parlement, the illegal projects of the government of the United States and the unpunished crimes of multiple other nations. All accompanied by pictural and written proof, signed and delivered by yours truly.

The reception of your book had been a catastrophe, as you had expected. No one, save for your publisher, knew about your project. It had been a shock to the whole world. Suddenly, your assistant was getting calls from all kinds of governments and organizations requesting meetings and such. You never answered. 

You didn’t realize how serious it all was until your publisher, a close friend of yours, was brutally murdered in his apartment one night. It had been a shock to you and no matter how much you wished you could have prevented it, you couldn’t. The Truth was out and nothing could stop it as it sold millions of copies worldwide. 

The day after you publisher had been killed, you were in the kitchen making an omelet when someone violently knocked at your door. You whirled around, spatula at the ready when your door was broken down and a dozen of men dressed in black suits swarmed your apartment. Without thinking, you threw a raw egg at the man the closest to you and reached for your pan, brandishing in front of you as one would a sword. 

« Who are you ?! What is this ?! » you cried, ignoring the man wiping off egg next to you. A blond man with dazzling blue eyes stepped through the cloud. You noted the way his lips twitched upwards when he saw the egg on his colleague. With a single finger, he gently pushed down your frying pan until it hung by your side.

« We’re CIA. » His badge flashed in your face. « We’re here to keep you safe. We’re bringing you to a safe house. Pack a bag. We leave as soon as we can. »

You had done as you had been told and packed a bag. In the big black SUV, you turned to the man who had addressed you previously. 

« Where are we going ? »

When the man didn’t answer, the man sitting on your left took pity of you. 

« We’re heading to a safe house. Your apartment isn’t safe for you anymore. »

« Oh. » You thought for a moment. « And why are you protecting me ? What’s in it for you ? I didn’t hold back on the USA chapter. » The blond man’s lips twitched again. 

« I can’t tell you that. Someone will meet you and explain everything. »

True to his words, once you’d arrived at the safe-house, a huge villa right in the middle of Nowheresville, you were greeted by a woman in a burgundy suit. 

« Hi, I’m Suzanne. » You shook her hand even though you already knew who she was. Just like you had a guess about who the blond man worked for. You knew the process, but we’re shocked to find yourself at its centre.

« Y/N, » you introduced yourself. After preparing both of you a coffee, Suzanne sat down on the opposite end of the table and joined her hands. 

« I’ll answer your questions now, »

« Why are you protecting me ? What do you want from me ? » you asked immediately. The blond man, who hadn’t left your side and was now standing near the door, made a small sound, but played it off as a cough. By the time your eyes landed in him, he was staring out into the hallway.

« Your knowledge is useful to us. We know you didn’t put everything you know into that book. And we’d like to put your and your abilities to good use. » Suzanne spoke in a way that made you believe she’d practiced exactly what she was going to say, or that she’d said it multiple times before.

« Putting my abilities to use, what does that mean ? »

« It means we’re offering you a contract, Y/N. We’ll keep you alive and you will give us information on what we ask. When the whole scandal will have blown over, we’d like you to work for us, gathering intel and such. »

You scoffed. « And here I was thinking you were offering protection by some kind of moral compass, but I guess your priorities lie elsewhere. » Silence. « And so I guess that you don’t care about all the illegal stuff, right ? Because I think we both known I didn’t stay within the law to learn what I learned. » Suzanne shook her head. After a moment of silence, during which Suzanne seemed to really enjoy her coffee, you finally nodded. « Fine. I’ll take the deal. » You were no good to anyone dead. Knowing you wouldn’t survive when there was a price on your head, you decided this was the best option.

Since then, it had only been you and Six in that big house. You thought maybe you’d become friends, but he proved to be quite difficult regarding that aspect. He wasn’t particularly talkative and even though his eyes betrayed his feelings most of the time, you still had trouble reading him. 

—————————

You tried your best to keep your breathing silent as the man slowly trudged around the admittedly large bathroom. You gave yourself away when you gasped after he shot at the bathtub. White porcelain flew, a piece slicing your cheek. Hands barely shaking, your raised your weapon to retaliate but the man was too quick for you. 

His arms were around your neck in a second and you desperately tried to elbow him in the stomach as you struggled for breath. He chuckled and pulled your gun out of your grip. Thinking quickly, you rammed your hand into his crotch. He doubled over, groaning in pain and effectively setting you free. You scrambled to get your gun but he kicked your ankles and you fell to the floor with a thud. Your head hit the marble with a dull sound and your vision blurred for a moment. You coughed and winced as he stood over you.

« Bitch, » he snarled as he slapped you across the face. Your head flew to the side and you saw stars, feeling your lip burst. 

« Though you could get away, huh? A bit too optimistic if you ask me, doll, » he taunted, leaning over you. Panicked, you looked around you and took ahold of your gun. Before he could register what was happening, you’d uncocked the safety and aimed at his shoulder. You didn’t want to kill him, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did. You took the shot and he screamed, falling to the ground. Red painted your silk robe as you scrambled to your feet. You raced down the stairs with shaky legs, running straight into Six. He wrapped an arm around you and let out a small breath. Little did you know he’d been through all the men in the house, hoping, praying you were in the safe room.

His face was bloodied and you were pretty sure his T-shirt was wet with blood in the middle. He pulled back, keeping his large gun in one hand, and examined your face. 

« Are you okay ? » he asked, pushing his fingers under your jaw to tilt your head to the side. His eyes scanned the rest of your body and his brows furrowed when he saw the blood on your robe. 

« It- It’s not mine, » you stammered, holding on to his bulletproof vest. He hummed, a low noise in his throat. Suddenly, he stepped in front of you and pointed his gun at the man leaning on the handrail at the top of the stairs, clutching his bloody shoulder with one hand and his gun with the other. Unconsciously, your grip on your own weapons tightened.

« Did he do this to you ? » Six asked over his shoulder passively. His eyes never left the man. You nodded once. 

« Look away. » 

You did as he told you, turning to look the other way, one hand still holding on to the back of his vest. You gritted your teeth as several gunshots rang out. You heard the sound of a body rolling down the stairs and shuddered. 

Six turned back around, his larger body shielding your from the traumatic view. 

« Let’s go. »

He guided you out of the house, shielding you as much as he could of the horrid sights. When you finally reached the car, he hurriedly ushered you inside before getting into the drivers’ seat.

Once you had arrived at another safe house, Six pulled you to the bathroom. You pulled yourself up on the counter with wobbly arms and Six steadied you by the hips. You licked your lips, wincing as you tasted copper, and leaned back against the mirror behind you. Six pulled out a first—aid kit and started rummaging through it. 

He started cleaning up the cut on your lip and you did your best not to grimace in pain. Even though he was being particularly gentle, everything hurt.

« Did you do that to him ? » he asked as he applied a numbing cream to your bottom lip. You waited for him to pull away. You hated the way you reveled in the way he stared at your lips for a few more seconds.

« Yeah, » you croaked. « I shot him in the shoulder. » Six cracked a semblance of a smile and you chuckled.

« Good girl, » his deep voice praised. Your knees felt weak and you were thankful to be sitting down. You giggled.

« Did you hit your head ? » Six asked, seeing your unusual behavior. He examined the crown of your head with his fingers, lightly pressing. You hissed in pain when he touched a particularly sensitive spot.

« Yeah. »

« Follow my finger. » You did as he ordered and followed his finger from left to right, right to left, up to down and down to up.

« You’re gonna be okay. »

[misserabella]

stray. pt.4

joel miller! x fem! reader

< previous chapter next chapter >

summary; after saving Joel and Ellie from the brink of death, you get caught with having to live with two more strays.., and you don't do strays.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡either ways, i hope y'all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

warnings; eventual +18 content! MINORS DONT INTERACT IN THE CHAPTERS WHERE IT IS IMPLIED IN THE WARNINGS and smut, mentions of death, possible deaths, blood, fighting, angst, fluff..

warnings for chapter 4; as always reader being a bad bitch, guns, blood, fighting, clickers, wounds, weapons, threats, torture, murder, deaths, s3xual @ssault (no r@pe) , mentions of r@pe, tension, arguing, cursing, anxiety, angst angst angst, loss, mourning, ptsd…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

“You’re not going.”

“But why?!” Ellie whines, shaking her hands. Exasperated.

“ ‘Cause you’d get me killed, brat.” you were packing on Larry’s house. You had a mission on the nearest city, a dirty job, but a good job. “Have you forgotten that you’re the most wanted kid in the entire world right now?” you ask her and she closes her mouth on a thin line. “Right.”

You roll your eyes, getting your water bottles and food to put them inside.

“It’s too dangerous even for you, y/n.” Larry says, sighing, tired. You two had been arguing about it for hours now.

“Larry. I’ve already tell you. If I get that motor for Maria she has promised to send us weekly food and resources. That could really help us out here, even more after this season…” you repeat, over and over again. He knows it’s a good deal. A deal you cannot pass on.

“But those men…” he tries, he really tries, but you are stubborn.

“Those men are nothing. I can take them.” you respond, and he doesn’t seem happy.

“No. Joel is going with you.” you look at him with a horrified look in your face. “Will you go with her. Joel?”

“No.”

“Sure.”

You look at him and he simply shrugs.

“FEDRA will be there.” you point out.

“I can use a cap.” you scoff.

“As if a cap would help you.”

“Believe me, they probably won’t even notice me. They’re mostly looking for Ellie, not me.” you sigh and Larry smiles, content. You hate him.

“If you die I’m leaving you behind.” you warn him and he nods.

“I hoped you would.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Here.” Larry gives him a knife already sharpened and ready to cut. “You have a gun, am I right?” Joel nods and pats his back. “Okay. This mission needs to be quick. You get in there at night. Put them down slowly, no struggling and no shooting unless is necessary. We don’t want them to notice you’re there. You get the motor and you run, I’ll have Blair waiting for you with a car ready to get you back home, alright?”

“I still find it unfair. So he can go and I can’t?” Ellie whines and you give her a look that makes her cross her arms and huff, sitting back on Larry’s dinning table and taking a bite of his ham sandwich.

“Okay. I’m ready.” you say, hiding the last of your daggers on your ankles and wrists.

Joel takes his back and you two leave the house after having said your goodbyes. You had promised Lizzy to come back soon, in the mean time, she’ll have Ellie, since she’ll be staying with Larry.

You don’t talk to him, you hate it when people mess with your plans or things. You worked better off alone.

He followed you out of town and through the gates, the beep of the alarm on your backs letting you know it was newly locked.

Joel got on your left, and just tagged along. “We need to go up north a little bit and go right on the woods. Then we’ll get to the city. The most dangerous zone is a couple of km from here. There have been spotted various clickers.”

“Is there a way to avoid them?” he inquired.

“Sadly no. The safest way is right now completely occupied by a rebellion against FEDRA. They are really aggressive and don’t like outsiders.” you said.

“Tell me about it…” he muttered, remembering the first time Ellie and him were attacked while trying to get though one of those cities by car. “Well, it just means we’ll have to be more careful.”

“Just keep your eyes open and don’t stand on my way.”

He cocked his gun in a swift move.

“Copy that.”

-

“You got it?” you whispered, his arms extended and eyes focused on a stray infected on your way. You had walked around 2km and reached the dangerous and restricted zone. In a blink the infected was down. Shot straight to the head.

“I got it.”

Joel and you hadn’t talked much, only when necessary. It was normal. This silence in between the two of you. He didn’t know how to talk to you. You didn’t know either. Did you even want to?

He was a good fighter, not like you had suspected of their almost death the first time you had met him. He had a great stance, great aim. Maybe the fear of Ellie getting hurt had gotten the best of him. But that had been a mistake that could have cost him everything. Although you could understand.

“Let’s go.” he said, going to take a step forward, but before he could, you were dragging him backwards and in a quick movement pressing him against the wall. The building was cold and dark, creaks could be heard every now and then, and the paper of the walls was falling apart. Some bits stuck to his jacket. “What-“

You pressed a hand to his mouth, your eyes never meeting his but the door next to the both of you. Joel’s eyes did the same, and his chest got stuck in a new breath when he finally heard it. You were tightly pressed against him, trying to not be seen. The big heavy steps came closer, the sound of rotten flesh shifting with every thud. The bloater came into your point of view and you gritted your teeth.

Motherfuckers. You hated them. Every and each one of them. More than any type of infected. It had been a long time since you had seen one. A year to be exact. You knew it wasn’t the same bloater that had tore apart Laura. It couldn’t be. But you felt your blood rush, boil, the need to destroy him just like he had destroyed your most important person in the world.

But with that rage came too the fear. The panic. Your body froze, and your limbs shook. The images of that ominous day coming to your mind like flowing acid water that left you with a knot on your throat.

Joel placed a hand over yours when he felt them tense against his chest. You looked at him due to the recent touch, his eyes stare into yours. Soft brown and caramel touch. ‘Breathe’, you could read on them. ‘I’ll kill them. All of them.’ he could read on yours, your mind strong against your body, who seemed to be about to fall apart.

That silence again. A full out loud conversation made just with stares.

‘It’s not worth it.’ he shook his head, pointing out the obvious danger. Where a bloater goes a million clickers could appear.

You let go of his mouth when you could no longer hear it. It had gotten lost in the building once again, away from you. His hand was still on yours, his heartbeat bellow your palm. He was alive. He was here. You were not alone. This was not the past. Laura was dead. Joel was alive.

You got away from him as if he was burning and you were gasoline, about to combust.

He was alive. You were not alone.

That made your blood run cold, freeze in your veins and make you ache. Bitter and sweet, like lemonade on a fresh cut.

“Let’s go.” you said, and he looked at you, when you were about to walk away taking you from your hand and making you stop.

“Let’s go through the fire scape.” he pointed at the windows, where you could see the steps and stairs.

“It could fall apart. The erosion could have bitten it apart.” you said, and he pursed his lips, thinking.

“Could be. But if we continue we’ll meet the bloater again.” he argued and you rolled your eyes.

“Then we’ll kill it.” you said, and he gave you an stern look.

“It’s a suicide. We’re only two and with mere guns. We won’t be able to take it down.” you fight against his grip, as if you could prove a point, make him believe you were strong enough to take it alone. “y/n.” he said your name, and your body froze. “You’re still hurt. We can’t take the risk.” he said, and for once, you listened, ‘cause you muscles lost their tension and your skin softened under his touch. “Let’s try the fire scape.” you looked at him for what it seemed to be hours.

Follow me. Trust me. I’m here.

Your throat was aching to say fight more, stubborn as always. But you knew he was speaking the truth, and you had to take it even if it hurt your heart. Even if you couldn’t get your vengeance today.

“Fine. But if you fall it’s all your fault.” you said and he scoffed, letting you go as he walked towards the window that led to the fire scape and opened it. “You go first. I don’t have to die too for your stupidity.” you pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest.

“As you wish.” he shrugged and stepped outside, the fire scape not making even a sound. It was perfectly stable. “Told you so.” he smiled, cockily. You rolled your eyes.

“Shut up and move.” you said as you crossed the window to the other side and followed him.

-

The night quickly fell on your shoulders, and the city welcomed you with the remains of its busting energy. There were only a few people left on the streets, probably late workers getting ready to get home after an exhausting day.

You gave him a nod towards a hidden alley and he followed you with now his gun on hand. You managed to slowly open the door to the building where the motor was supposed to be stored, using a clip that has been seating on your hair. Joel was impressed, but again, this was a really hard world, and you learned things to adapt to it.

You slowly creaked open the door, gun looking right, then left. Clear.

Joel closed it behind his back when you waved your hand, stepping in. You cocked your head towards the right and started walking. The hallways were dark, dusty and old with multiple doors that you passed by as quickly and as carefully as you could, checking then one by one.

It was not long before you found the motor, after five minutes of searching room by room. It was in what it seemed to be an storage/meeting room, a really big one, with tables and a couple of sofas on the left. There were guns and bookcases and…

Next thing you knew, there was an arm around your neck. You choked, fighting the person that had attacked you. You heard Joel grunting at your back.

“Got him!” a male voice said, and you groaned as they dragged you further into the room, a girl snatched your gun away from you with a kick.

“Not as pretty as the one I’ve got.” the male at your back laughed, and your wrists were grabbed with his free and big hand, fingers digging on your skin and bruising it up. Your tries to kick him again were in vain, because in just a matter of seconds you were on the floor, his body pressing against you and making it hard to breath. The arm that surrounded your neck had retracted, his hand pushing your face against the floor. “Such a pretty little thing…” he smiled, and your heart jumped, a moan of pain leaving your lips when he tugged on your hair, bringing your face closer to him.

Joel was at your right, in the same position as you, fighting the buffer man on top of him.

“Don’t touch her!” he said, but he got kicked on the face by a blonde hair, breaking up his lip with her combat boot. Joel hissed and she laughed.

“You really thought it could be that easy? Get in here and walk right out?” she scoffed, taking a step closer to you and kneeling just the slightest to catch your face in between his fingers, fiercely digging her nails on your skin. “Who do you work for?” she asked, and you simply spat on her face, making her close her eyes and fall silent for a couple of seconds before she smirked, looking at you with malice in her eyes.

“Bob.” he simply said, and you had to watch as the man on top of Joel took his head and bashed it against the floor, making a breech open on his forehead.

“No!” you screamed, but you got silenced with a punch so strong that made your ears ring.

“Hey! Don’t touch her face! I want her all pretty for me later.” the man pinning you to the floor said, and the girl stood up, a golf stick now shinning brightly in between her hands.

“You bitch…” you said, and she smiled.

“Better watch what you say… Wouldn’t want your boyfriend here to pay for it, right?” she teased, and swung at his ribs, making his face contort in pain and a groan leave his lips. “Who. do. you. work. for?” she asks, Joel this time, and he doesn’t answer. “Fine.” she swung again, but this time he hit his head, blood pouring on his skin.

“Get off me! Get the fuck off me!!!!” you screamed at the guy pinning you down, fighting him off as she got Joel’s ribs, making him scream in pain. “Fuck!!!!!”

“I love the tough ones. Always the ones that cry the hardest on bed.” he said, and once again banged your head against the floor. “Should I make it quick?” he said, and Joel glared at him. “Maybe I could even do it right here, in front of your little friend. I bet he would love that, huh?” he said with a smirk, and you felt your skin crawl when his tongue met your neck, sucking there ‘till you hissed.

“I’ll fucking kill-“

Your eyes widened when Joel was cut off by another swing to the head.

You screamed when he slumped against the floor, blood dripping onto the floor from the wound on his forehead, which got bigger. “You’re gonna fucking die!” your gaze was strong, your words directed to the girl that now walked towards you with an amused smirk on her face. “Fucking bitch, I’m gonna-“

But you moaned in pain when she kicked you on your side, three times, making you curl on yourself and knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What did you say? You ‘want me to kill him’?” she mocked you, cocking her head, stepping back towards Joel.

“Finish him off, already, Jade. We’ve got things to do.” the brunette girl that had kicked your gun away and now stood guarding the door said, making the blonde roll her eyes.

“You’re always so fucking boring, Ray. You never let me have fun.” she pouted.

“Joel, wake up.” you said, fighting to get away, trying to make him come back to you and live. “ WAKE THE FUCK UP!” you screamed, your breathing ragged.

Your blood was rushing through your veins, burning you from the inside out. Your whole body trembled and shook.

“Yeah. That’s right. Watch the little rat die. I promise you will be right behind, pretty girl.” the boy on your back said, whispering and kissing your ear. You felt the urge to vomit. “But we’ll have a little bit of fun before though, what do you think, hm?” your eyes landed on the gun scattered just a couple inches away from you. “I promise I’ll be good to you…” he said, one of his hands now leaving your head and pulling aside the neck of your shirt to reveal more skin, his hips grinding against your ass.

Big fucking mistake.

“I won’t.” you spat and with a quick movement for your leg you rolled on yourself, hit his legs that straddled you. He lose balance, falling at your right. With a quick swift of your hand you had your dagger in hand the one that had been hiding on the ankles of your pant and that now you dug on the neck of the asshole that had been touching you just mere seconds ago.

He let out a scream that soon turned into a gurgling mess of blood and gasps that couldn’t fill his lungs.

“Axel!” Ray was quick to react, gun and hand and finger pulling the trigger to shoot at you, but you dodged it by rolling on the floor.

Her body was the next one to hit the floor, your dagger perfectly placed in between her two eyebrows. She was lying in a pool of her own blood by the time you got to your gun, but you groaned when one of the last two standing shoot at it and pushed it away from your reach.

You stood up as quickly as you could dodging multiple of missed bullets. You went straight to the guy, that had been pinning Joel to the floor and that now stood on his feet, your legs aching at the effort.

“Finish that rat off!” he screamed at his blonde friend as he recharged his gun. He groaned and struggled with you as you fought for his gun once once you’ve taken a hold on it —a little trick you had learned years ago— twisting it to dodge a new bullet. He almost had it, though you were quicker than him and, once your eyes had found it lying in the floor not far away from you, you took ahold on a bat with nails that you supposed they had used to beat the shit out of others like you. It was the divine intervention that you needed.

At this point blood was decorating your skin in little freckles. A painting of death and revenge in the hands of the wrong artist. You were still thirsty for it, you were on the hunt for more. You couldn’t see, only red and the ghost of his bodies. Rage was taking ahold on you. Mind was turning blank.

Your veins screamed for death.

The nails dug on the side of his face as you swung, his eyes rolling back as his jaw falling slack. You could see some of them sticking through his cheek and onto his mouth.

You were sure to have hit the brain once he had fallen on his knees as you pulled from it, brain matter decorating your shoes. You took his gun, and with a quick twist of your body, you shot the last girl standing —which was the one who had been beating Joel with a golf stick— on the stomach before she could give him the final blow.

“Fucking bitch!” she groaned in pain, hands falling to the bleeding hole on his body.

You shot her again, this time to both his legs, making her fall, the golf stick clinking onto the floor. You were going to shoot again, somewhere that would hurt but not kill her yet, but the gun had ran out of bullets. You clicked your tongue and threw it aside, making a dent on the wall at your right.

You almost felt the need to laugh when you saw her crawling her way to the emergency door in the room, away from you and Joel’s semi-unconscious body, who slowly came back to his senses.

Your steps were the only sound filling the room as you approached her, her heavy breathing and pants adding to the melody of an incoming death.

You were gonna bash her fucking skull in.

When you got to her, you kicked her hard on the stomach, winning new stains on your dusty jeans. Maybe you’d leave them. Maybe you’d grow fond of them. Let’s see how many more you’d get after you were done with her.

You were breathing hard, your chest heaving with every puff of air you could get, though no oxygen seemed to be enough for your body, for your dizzy and gone mind.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

The scream that she left when you kicked her once again could made anyone shiver, but not you.

I’ll kill them. All of them.

She was finally on her back, bleeding out on your feet. And if you were someone else, you would have felt mercy. But you were just you.

So you rose the bat and swung, blood splattering all over your face and clothes when you did it again, and again, and again…

Your arms hurt, your lungs burned, your body shook…

She was already dead. But it was not enough.

No. Not this time. This time I’ll be strong enough. This time I won’t be left alone. This time he won’t die. Joel won’t die. Not him. Not again. Not like Laura did. He won’t…

And suddenly you could breath, strong arms surrounding you from the back and stopping you with force. You fought back his grip, his hushing, his soft voice promising that you were okay. That he was okay.

He could see it in your eyes. That fear. The same fear that he had fought for decades. The same demons.

He had seen them take a hold on you while you fought, he had seen you lost yourself on the blood.

“It’s okay.” he muttered, and you hands let go of the bat, your eyes fixed on the corpse in front of you, completely unrecognizable, your crimson hands, your messy clothes… “y/n.” he called out your name and your eyes swelled with tears that you fought to not let show… Your palms burned due to the friction of the wood, blisters rising up on the skin.

His eyes found yours when he turned you around and away from the bodies that you had left behind, trying to get you to focus on him.

He too had been through this. Through this rage, through this mourning and need for blood.

“I’m here.” he said, and just in case, repeated his words, slower, softer. “I’m here.” you slowly let him bring you into his arms, your cheek pressed against his heart, where you made sure that it was true. He was here. He was okay. He was alive. You were not alone.

And Joel made as if he had not noticed the way your hands had clutched and fisted his shirt, tugging him closer.

-

The look that Blair has given you when you had taken the motor back to the car was…, well it was an understatement.

She tried to make your eyes meet hers, gaze digging holes on your body. But you were too gone to say something. Too deep inside your head to be able to speak. You were staring at the nothingness, at the blood on your hands.

You didn’t recall the way back to the town, nor how you had ended up on the back along with Joel, who silently looked at you and made sure you were okay. You had always been silent, but this time it was different. You were as still as a corpse, your eyes lost and hands trembling every now and then. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what was the right thing to do, the right thing to bring you back to the present, ‘cause it was obvious you were caught in between it and the so painful past that you always avoided.

The doors made a beep that let the car in as they opened and closed shut behind it, securing you inside. You were back home. You were safe. But were you? Was the person on your left safe for you?

Joel’s face was a mess. Busted lip, a cut on his right cheek that had already stopped bleeding, swelling eye, bleeding forehead… He had cuts all over his arm, the same arms in which you had been in between just a mere hours ago. The same arms that had made sure to stop you from falling apart.

“What the hell happened?!!” Larry was quick to approach the two of you in the middle of the night, being drawn by the noise of the car, flashlight on hand. Ellie was right behind, fully awake. It seems that she hadn’t been able to sleep at all, not when you and Joel weren’t around, when she wasn’t ‘safe’.

Ellie froze when she looked at you, Larry with eyes shot open. You were bathed in blood, new deaths weighing your body.

You didn’t look at them.

Joel explained, explained that you and him had been caught with your guards down, that the mission had went wrong before you had fixed it. Before you had killed all that people…

Larry took your face between his hands and you looked at him. His eyes were concerned, his hands inspecting for new wounds, for danger. You were okay. It wasn’t your blood. Then, he hugged you. He hugged you so hard you almost couldn’t breath. You were like a ghost in between his arms. Lifeless, lost. You mind had too much to think about, your mouth too little to say.

Ellie didn’t move. She couldn’t. Didn’t know how to react, how to move or talk. She could breath when Larry had promised that you were okay, that everything was okay. But her hands were shaking, and a pang of pain crossed your chest in fear that it was because of you. Was she scared? Had you finally become the same monster that had killed your family…, your friends?

The apartment was too cold. So cold you were freezing under your sticky clothes. Larry had made sure the three of you were back inside, secured, still shaken up by the thought that he could have almost lost you, lost a daughter.

That was when you started to move. Your feet unable to stop.

You didn’t know where you were going until your hands were on the handle to Laura’s door, didn’t even realized you had finally opened it after a year of solitude —or ignoring it was even there— too fearful to try and step inside.

Ellie, Larry and Joel were looking at you. Frozen in place, unable to move or speak as you closed the door at your back and buried yourself on your best friend for the longest time after her death.

It smell so much like her it made your eyes water. Her paintings and sketches all over the walls. Polaroids decorating the empty spaces, photos pf the two of you when everything was perfect —as perfect as it could be in a world like this—. Books left unfinished where left at the feet of her bed, her night table still had her favorite one left open on her favorite page. Alice in wonderland.

Your heart plummeted with your body on her bed, on her unmade bed that felt like giving her a hug, like having her close. That smelled like the stupid citrus stupid shampoo he used for her curly hair…

Your hands tugged on one of her pillows, your body curling around it trying to find her. Trying to find her warmth, her own beating heart. But you only could feel your own, your own shattering one.

You were staining the sheets with blood. Destroying that already broken place that you had been to scared to walk into. But you couldn’t care less. ‘Cause maybe that’s what would make you finally clean them up and put them inside her wardrobe, which peeked open at your right. Maybe…, this new blood could make you move on, even if it hurt.

You closed your eyes, ignoring the stickiness of your body, the weight of your drenched clothes, and cried. Cried in the silence that she had left behind, cried in the fear that had caved in you today after years of fearless guts.

For the first time in a year you had been scared. Scared of this world. Scared of a new death. Scared of your heart breaking again.

-

taglist; ♡

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pedro pascal’s masterlist

joel miller’s masterlist

[rocksalt-and-pie]

alright I've made a more in depth list of episodes I would like to see in a fanservice season 16 as previously mentioned in my other post:

- human Impala (should be portrayed by a 55+ years old actor or actress with a strong Detroit accent and a very loud deep voice. they have arthritis in their shoulders because Dean never oils their creaking door hinges)

- Sam and Dean body swap (the potential for jokes is just top tier and the outtakes from this will be out of this world) (Jensen playing Jared playing Sam and the other way around sounds like absolute chaos)

Cas immediately recognizes Dean even in Sam's body and it's revealed that all this time he has been looking directly at Dean's soul 😭 (no kissing in this episode though. God the psychological damage a Misha/Jared kiss would cause)

- parallel universe with female Sam and Dean that they get sent to and meet each other / alternatively: some kind of gender swap curse that makes them turn into women (the potential for misogynistic jokes turning into more understanding and therefore changed behavior is just chef's kiss)

Bonus points for Cas off-handedly mentioning that he doesn't think it's weird that he wasn't affected by the curse because technically he has no gender and the body he inhabits is just a vessel (close up on Dean's face Thinking Thoughts)

Rowena takes care of it and compliments the female versions of them and it's kinda gay ("do we have to turn you back? Shame, would have been nice to have some female company, we could have formed a coven! Or done other fun things" cut to irritated glances being exchanged between the brothers/sisters)

- Jack and Claire teaming up for a hunt (preferably saving their damsel in distress father and step-dad that got trapped in some dangerous place where they finally have nothing but time to talk things out because there is no way to escape, you have to be freed from the outside)

- stanford era Dean flashbacks (feeling lost and alone on the road)

- Bobby and Rufus in the 80s flashbacks (including baby Winchesters!)

- Bigfoot hunt (the teddy bear episode doesn't count) but it's just an escaped gorilla or something. I just wanna see them hiking again okay I like the woods

- some, like, desert monster idk. filmed on location in Arizona or Nevada in the sweltering heat. the boys being forced to remove layer after layer of plaid. show me Dean in a tank top (handprint included)

- birthday episode (either Sam's or Dean's idc. How come that in 15 years there was never a case taking place during one of their birthdays!)

- an actual wedding, either Sam and Eileen or Jody and Donna or Dean and [gun shots]

- beach episode, show me those bathing suits. give me a Bond girl moment

- another Wayward Sisters episode please

- reverse French mistake although it would be absolutely fucking insufferable and I would hate it with all my heart (but it would be sooo funny)

- resolve all the other loose threads of open ended episodes (there are so many! The tulpa from season 1! The girls in the hotel from the haunted house episode in season 2! Jesse the antichrist kid from season 5! The witch twins and how one of them brought the other back from the dead! The kid of that monster friend of Sam's that Dean killed in season 8 i think and told him to his face to come looking for him when he's grown up! That's five whole episodes right there!! and those are just the ones i could come up with from the top of my head but I'm sure there's more)

- BRING BACK BELA FOR JUST ONE SCENE PLEASE

- a lot of you mentioned a proper musical episode, which. sure why not. a curse that makes you sing/perceive everything happening as music perhaps?

- and then of course. The coconuts gently colliding but this goes without saying

[finnsbubblegum]

my dearest i'm going through withdrawals from your writing and frankly i just miss you 🥺🥺

i had a request if you were taking them?

i am currently in an mentally abusive relationship and things aren't really going to hot on my end

i was wondering if you could do one where joel comes in an rescues reader from said relationship? pure fluff and heartwarming stuff i could really use it rn 🖤

ps sorry it got so dark lol 🖤

A/N: Hi anon! I’m so sorry for the late reply. I’m sorry that happened to you, hope you’re doing okay. I tried my best writing this fic hope it helps you feel better. Yes, I read your requests! I just haven't had the time and idea what to write so i am so so sorry. I will write your requests, don't worry! but please be patient😭 I'm writing this first because it seems urgent😭 Btw if you need someone to talk to, you can always send me private messages! 

Worth Saving (Joel Miller X Reader)

Warnings: abusive boyfriend, guns, lmk if i missed any

(Reader’s Pov)

“Ty, can we rest here for a few days? I think it’s a pretty decent place. There is a lot of canned food here and there’s a bed here.” You pointed at the dusty bed.

You and your boyfriend found an abandoned house trying to stock some supplies. You had been doing these for years and kept moving anywhere as long as you didn’t come across people. Humans were more dangerous these days than clickers. 

“Are you serious?” Your boyfriend, Tyler, furrowed his eyebrows and raised his voice.

“Just for a few days.” You stepped back.

“How are you so stupid?” Your boyfriend stepped closer to you.

You knew he was angry. He always had. He never listened to you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just. I saw a bed and I just wanted to sleep on a bed. You know after all these years.” Your voice started to crack.

“After all these years?” He scoffed.

“I have kept you safe and protected you. And it’s still not enough?” Tyler grabbed both of your shoulders with force.

“That’s not what I meant.” You tried to hold your tears.

“Don’t you dare cry, woman!” He tightened his grip on your shoulder.

“Ty, you’re hurting me.” You sobbed.

“Let me tell you something. You’re such a burden. I should have left you there eaten by those clickers. Or maybe.. I should kill you now. ” Your abusive boyfriend said those words right in front of your face. 

Then he took his gun and pointed it right at your forehead. He loaded the gun and was ready to pull the trigger. You closed your eyes, shaking and shed a tear. 

(Joel’s Pov)

“Shh..someone’s here.” Joel whispered to Tommy and pointed at the traces someone left on the first floor.

Tommy nodded and walked slowly behind Joel. Joel and Tommy looked at each other as they heard your fight with your boyfriend. 

*creak*

“Tommy!” Joel whispered scolding Tommy who was making sounds from the old stairs.

Tommy raised his hands and mouthed “sorry”. 

(Reader’s Pov)

“Let me tell you something. You’re such a burden. I should have left you there eaten by those clickers. Or maybe.. I should kill you now. ” Your abusive boyfriend said those words right in front of your face. 

Then he took his gun and pointed it right at your forehead. He loaded the gun and was ready to pull the trigger. 

“No! Please don’t kill me! Please!” You closed your eyes, shaking and crying.

(Joel’s Pov)

Joel was ready to shoot whoever inside the room but Tommy reminded him not to kill innocent people. Joel rolled his eyes and stayed behind Tommy as Tommy instructed. Then he remembered Bill’s letter that was left for him.

“...I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way...”

He remembered his job was to save someone who was worth saving. And it could be anyone and Ellie was one of them. 

“1,2,.” Tommy mouthed to Joel.

“3!” Tommy kicked the door open and found you with a gun pointing at your head.

Joel and Tommy’s guns were all pointed towards you and your boyfriend.

“Put your guns down!” Tyler swiftly pointed his gun to Tommy.

“Please! We’re innocent.” You raised your hands.

“Tommy!” Joel breathed heavily, he was ready to pull the trigger.

Tommy looked at Joel and shook his head. Tommy didn’t want Joel to kill innocent people anymore. He wanted him to change and Joel was getting better since he spent a few months in Jackson.

“Let’s talk this through and put our guns down.” Tommy said.

“You first.” Tyler looked at Tommy then to Joel.

Tommy put his guns down slowly. Joel didn’t.

“Hey! You too.” Tyler shakily pointed his gun to Joel.

Joel cleared his throat as he put his gun down slowly. As Tyler put his gun down slowly after Joel, you thought it was the perfect time to run away from this mess and your abusive boyfriend. You took a deep breath and got ready to run. When everyone’s gun was on the floor, you ran as fast as you could. 

*Bang*

You heard a gunshot when you were just out of the room and you stopped running. 

“Joel!” Tommy shouted.

Your body shook and turned your head slowly. You saw your boyfriend’s dead body laying soulless on the floor. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands. 

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked you.

You shook your head. You didn’t know how you felt. You were sad that your boyfriend died but you were also relieved because you were finally free from him.

“Were you close with him?” Tommy put his hand on your shoulder.

“He-uh-he was my boyfriend.” You nodded.

“He tried to kill you.” Joel said behind Tommy.

Joel walked closer to you, “Twice.” 

Apparently your boyfriend took his gun and tried to shoot you from behind when you tried to run away. And Joel shot him before your boyfriend pulled the trigger. He knew from his gut that you were worth saving so he took his chance. 

You were speechless so you just stayed quiet. The two men asked you to come with them. They told you they have a place for you with nice people, nice clothes, and food. Tommy had to bring some supplies on his horse so you ended up riding the horse with Joel. 

“You’re gonna rip my jacket if you do that.” Joel grabbed your hand and moved them on his waist.

Your heart beat faster but you felt safe around him. You were too tired from your day and all the shocks so you rested your head behind his broad back. 

“It wasn’t twice.”  You suddenly said.

“Huh?” Joel didn't follow.

“Tyler-uh-the one you killed-he tried to kill me multiple times.” Tears fell down to your cheeks.

“So..thank you. You saved my life. I owe you.” You wiped your tears and rested your head again on his back.

“You’re safe now.” Joel answered you.

“Sorry.” You chuckled, suddenly realizing your tears made his jacket wet. You rubbed his back trying to dry it.

“It’s okay.” Joel chuckled. 

The End

[hedgiwithapen]

Leverage let's go steal a beetle

Eliot Spencer really, really hated it when the con had to change gears halfway through. Made things messy and complicated and it was never good for anyone but Sophie to try playing two parts. But he adjusted his stupid little hat and hoisted himself up into the pilot's seat of the Helicopter.

"Hey." said the man already in the copilot's chair. "You're not Johnson."

"No," Eliot said. "He got sick. Celiac flare up, I think. Trust me, you do not want him flying one of these things." That was one way of putting it, anyways. Beaten over the head with a stale baguette was a little more accurate but hey, who was really counting.

"And you're...authorized?" The copilot asked, looking doubtful. 

"Am I--I got called in on my night off because she's got something that has to happen tonight. I mean, If you want, I can just go, and you can explain to Ms. Kord why her chopper's grounded for the night.  I had dinner reservations, man."

"No!" the copilot said frantically, no doubt thinking about the fate of anyone who disappointed Victoria Kord. Eliot had a feeling her idea of a severance package was a little something like the Hannity lady back at Wakefield's.  

"Alright then," Eliot said, settling in. Damn. It was a sweet helicopter. Shame he wasn't going to get to keep it.

~

Jaime felt more like he was falling, not flying, gravity dragging him towards his home. He could hear Khaji Da in his ear, feeding him information about the helicopter, the dozens of Kord Industry's private army foot soldiers surrounding the house, all armed to the teeth. Well, so was he, with anything he could imagine. 

He spun in the air, aiming the world's largest staple gun, dodging the live rounds they were firing at him.

Somehow that made this more real than the fight earlier. It was one thing to be fighting for his life running from the Kord building, all that glass and chrome and unreal wealth. Not here, above the rooftops and powerlines he'd known all his life. 

"Stand down. Give me back my Scarab." He heard Jenny's Aunt--and when had that become who she was, in his head?--say over some kind of loudspeaker. Half the neighborhood must have heard it, and the gunshots, but no sirens wailed.

"The Scarab's not yours," he said, unsure if she could hear him. He aimed at the Helicopter to be sure she understood. It dipped just enough that he missed. He could tell from Khaji's delight that this--deflecting bullets, firing back--was something they could do all night if they needed to.

"Target the family," came the next order. Jaime's blood ran cold.

He dove forward, but not in time. 

The house he'd grown up in exploded.

"No!" he screamed, mentally directing everything into the thrusters. He had time, he had---

Khaji Da stopped him, feet above the flames.

|You will die. I cannot allow you to go in|

"They're in there!" Jaime yelled back. "I can--I can still-- I have to save them!"

|No lifesigns are detected| Khaji Da responded. |I am sorry, Jaime Reyes.|

Jaime didn't have the chance to scream again as a flare of purple lightning lashed out, some kind of net or grapple or bolas that burned and stung and dragged him from the sky.

The last thing he saw was his home in flames, the roof caving in.

~

(approximately ten minutes earlier)

Parker dropped through the hole in the roof, swinging herself so she landed on the worn and patched linoleum instead of directly on the table. 

The older woman, who had the vibes of Hardison's Nana if she was Eliot, which was frankly a terrifying thought, threw a sandal at her head. Parker caught it easily. "Everybody out," she said, the Spanish falling easily from her lips and apparently throwing everyone else for a loop. The two men stared at her. The Nana threw another sandal. Parker ducked under that one.

Parker huffed a little. "Kord's people are coming to kill you all," she said, not bothering to beat around the bush. " Or worse? Not super clear on that. So. Everybody out, come on."

"Why should we trust you, blondie?" one of the men asked.

"Where's Jaime?" the girl about Breanna's age demanded. 

"Because I'm the good guy, and I don't know, but if we stick around here we will continue to not know. It's not safe here, can we go?" Parker pushed.

"You expect us to trust you? You broke into our house!"

"You left a hole in the roof, that's practically an invitation." Parker reached up and tapped her com. "Eliot? ETA? Someone give me something, they won't leave." 

"Seven minutes," Eliot said. "Get them out."

Breanna chattered breathlessly in the other ear. 

Parker turned off the com. "GarlicBre52 says you can trust me. I'm the Cavalry. Good enough?"

"Garlic sent you?" the more paranoid man said, looking suddenly like he might actually believe her. "How'd they know about any--"

"Look, you can talk to her yourself, after we go, because in about 5 and a half minutes, this place is going to be on fire and we need to not be here when it is." Parker was getting impatient. 

"Everyone, go," Nana Sandals said, and everyone obeyed, following Parker out the back door, and along a hedge to the next street over. Parker heaved open the food truck door. 

"What about my son?" the man who wasn't staring with outright glee at all the tech said. "What did you do--"

"Hey, we didn't do anything," Breanna said. "Parker, you told them we're here to help, right?"

"Of course I did!"

"Then where is Jaime?"

"Uhhh," Breanna said, fingers flying over her keyboard. " About a minute out. Don't worry, Eliot's going to get him."

"Eliot," Nana repeated. 

"Yeah, Breanna said. She spun in her chair. "Hey, Rudy."

"You know this girl?" Nana asked. Rudy frowned. 

"How do you know my name?" he said. "Garlic, I take it?"

"Eh, Really good facial recognition. I'm Breanna. Thanks for that tip last month, by the way-- the cobalt instead of tungsten? Really worked great."

Rudy gave a modest tip of one shoulder. "Yeah, Ma, I know her. From online."

"Uncle Rudy, you didn't tell me your government conspiracy hacker friends were cute girls. I'm Milli, by the way."

"Flirting later," the woman who had to be Milli's mom said. "Someone explain what's going on. Please."

Breanna made a face. "Uh. Long story very very short, Kord Industries wants something your son has, and we really don't want them to have it, and they want it bad enough to, uh. Kill you? So we're faking your deaths, if that's cool. I mean. Also if that's not cool? But like. Just until we take them down so like. Three days tops."

"And someone named Eliot is finding Jaime?"

"Should be, right about--" everything shook "--now."

~~

Eliot thumbed the buttons and switches on the control panel, giving a glance back. The poor kid was semi-conscious, dragged into the back of the helicopter at Victoria's feet. He swallowed bile. 

"Set a course for the island," Victoria ordered. 

Eliot glanced at the densely packed neighborhood below, lit up behind them with the orange of flame and the dancing lights of firetrucks. "Yes Ma'am," he said, and turned towards the water.  Carefully, casually, he released his seatbelt and harness, stretching his legs just a little.

"You're going too far west," Victoria snapped. "Johnson, get it together, unless you want to be fired."

"Mm." Eliot said. "That threat would work a lot better if I worked for you." He veered sharply, slamming everyone to the side as he snapped off the toggles and jammed the steering, then threw himself into the back.

Eliot thanked God and Hardison for the latter's parachute stash. 

"Hope you can swim, kid," he said,  pushing off hard with Jaime Reyes in hand as the helicopter spun wildly towards the water.

~~

Jaime choked, sputtering wildly and trying to yank away from the iron grip around his waist. He remembered the helicopter--being grabbed--the house--his family--

"Calm yourself, Jaime," Khaji Da said, but that was easier said then done.

"Let me go! Let go," Jaime thrashed, sinking deeper before popping back up above the water.

"Easy, kid. You good to swim?"  The grip didn't release. Jaime twisted, trying to get a hand under the man's throat.  Khaji could make anything he imagined, and he could imagine a lot of ways to hurt the people who'd--who'd killed---

"Hey." the man said, kicking them both closer to shore. "Don't do that, man. It's ok. We got them out."

Jaime blinked, salt water stinging his eyes and burning his nose as he tried to parse the threat.

|The Eliot Spencer is not lying| Khaji Da said. |Recent data suggests his connection to the fall of multiple criminal organizations. Recommended course of action: hear him out.| 

That was just unexpected enough for Jaime to listen.

"See that food truck parked on the beach?" Eliot Spencer asked. "That's them.  So don't just go haring off or try to gut me, ok? Can you swim?"

"Yeah, I--" he sputtered again on a too-large wave. "If you hurt them--Khaji--"

|Food Truck: Brick and Basil, contains several life-signatures that match the Reyes household, with additional signatures. No one is currently experiencing physical distress.|

The beach rose to meet them, the sand cool and soft under Jaime's bare feet. Eliot Spencer let out a piercing whistle, and the side of the truck swung open. Jaime sagged in relief as Khaji pointed out the silhouette of his sister, unharmed.

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain (Part I)

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, abuse, suicide, religious themes, ect.

FAMILY TREE (INTRO)

These crosses all over my body remind me of who I used to be.

Christ forgive these bones I'm hiding.

He cannot escape his mother's blood.

He'll never escape what he's made up of.

The fates already fucked me sideways.

You know I raised you bеtter than this.

Leavе me hanging so they all can laugh at me.

AMERICAN TEENAGER

Putting too much faith in the make-believe.

The neighbor's brother came home in a box.

He wanted to go, so maybe it was his fault.

Another red heart taken by the American dream.

I feel it there in the middle of the night.

I'm all alone again.

Say what you want, but say it like you mean it.

Just give it one more day, then you'rе done.

I do what I want.

I said it was fun.

I don't need anything from anyone.

It's just not my year.

I'm all good out here.

I'm sorry if I sound off, but I was probably wasted.

Didn't feel so good.

Head full of whiskey but I always deliver.

If you're listening, let me handle my liquor.

If you're there, why do I feel alone in this room with you?

I'm still standing here.

I do it for *Name*.

I'm doing what I want and damn, I'm doing it well.

A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA

Sing it to me all day long.

The aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song.

You and me against the world.

You were my man and I your girl.

We had nothing except each other.

You were my whole world.

I still call home that house in Nebraska.

We found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor.

The world was empty, save you and I.

You left, and I cried.

Even if we died tonight, I'd die yours.

These dirt roads are empty.

Your mama calls me sometimes to see if I'm doing well.

Really I'd kill myself to hold you one more time.

It hurts to miss you.

It's worse to know that I'm the reason you won't come home.

I died there under you, every night, all night.

You know, I still wait at the edge of town, praying straight to God that maybe you’ll come back around.

I cry every day, and the bottles make it worse.

You were the only one I was never scared to tell I hurt.

I found photographs of our school, on the day we met.

I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess.

You might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night.

I just hope you're doing fine out there.

I just pray that you're all right.

I feel so alone.

I feel so alone without you.

WESTERN NIGHTS

He's never looked more beautiful.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue.

Show me how much I mean to you.

I'd hold the gun if you asked me to.

If you love me like you say you do, would you ask me to?

Trouble's always gonna find you baby. but so will I.

Hold me across every state line.

I'm never gonna leave you baby, even if you lose what's left of your mind.

'Cause you know I'll be right there beside you.

I haven't spoken to my daddy in a long, long time.

I don't want him to worry.

The neighborhood keeps getting smaller.

All starved out when the money's paper thin.

All that's left are your walls and you'll die there.

I should have known that there's no getting in.

I'll still be alright.

Clinging onto you like some love blind addict.

I'll be screaming your name.

Please don't love how I need you.

Know that one day, you and I could be okay.

FAMILY TREE

I'm just a child but I'm not above violence.

My mama raised me better than that.

Daddy said shoot first then run and don't look back.

Take me down to the river and bathe me clean.

I've killed before and I'll kill again.

Take the noose off, wrap it tight around my hand.

They say heaven hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Hell don't scare me, I've been times before.

HARD TIMES

Lay it on me.

Tell me a story about how it ends where you're still the good guy.

I hate this story.

Happiness ends and dies with you.

I thought good guys get to be happy.

I'm not happy.

I am poison in the water and unhappy.

I was too young to noticе that some types of love could bе bad.

I still do, and that scares me.

I'm tired of you.

It's just the way that you are.

I just wanna sleep.

[ziskandra-writes]

Fic: Coward

Eight-year-old Dahlia wants to kill her family. ACE ATTORNEY | DAHLIA HAWTORNE; IRIS; SISTER BIKINI | WORDS: 2607 | RATED T. (AO3 LINK)

The gun was locked up in the basement.

It was one of Dahlia’s greatest fantasies to find the key, take the gun, and shoot her father in the head. Then she would deal with her useless stepsister and stepmother as well. Then, she wouldn’t make one of the most basic mistakes that most people tended to do in this situation. She would not turn the weapon on herself. She was no coward. She was the only one willing to do something; her stepmother just shook in the corner, the bruises covering her body while Valerie stared out the window, saying nothing, tears running down her face.

Her stepmother and stepsister, they were the cowards. They deserved to die too.

After the deed was done, would she wait at the house calmly for the police to take her away? Would she wipe the gun free of her fingerprints, lock it back up and hide? Or did she take the gun with her; take it all the way to the temple where her twin sister lived now? Did she kill her sister too, for not being there to do something about their father? Was Iris a coward too, even if it had been Dahlia’s idea to leave Iris at the temple? Was she a coward for not arguing back when their father dumped her outside the front gates, never to return?

Was Iris a coward for leaving Dahlia all alone?

If there was anything Dahlia hated in the world, it was cowards. Sometimes when her father was angry and locked her in the basement, she would stand outside the cabinet where the gun was and shake the lock angrily, hoping that one day, it would break. Until that time, her fantasies would remain only that—fantasies.

In the five years she lived with her step family, she was never able to get her hands on the gun; her father kept too close an eye on it. She found no solace in the fantasies now—there was no comfort in imagining the weight of the metal in her hands, the look on her father’s face when she pressed the barrel against his forehead, and the smell of gunpowder in the air if it would never become reality.

Instead, she just envisioned a life of her own away from her family. Disgusting, snivelling, cowards: they all deserved each other. She was not one of them. She would save herself, and one day, maybe when she was old enough to buy a gun of her own, she would return to take care of unfinished business. If she didn’t come back, it was running away, and then she would have no-one left to turn the gun on but herself; the real coward in this hypothetical situation.

She knew just the place she would run to, when things became bad enough. She would run to her sister; sweet, innocent, naïve Iris, who had probably never seen a gun in her entire life. Sweet, innocent, naïve Iris, who would do anything for her strong, courageous sister.

The night she left was the first night that her father hit Valerie, who went tumbling to the floor with an angry red handprint on her face. Her stepmother did nothing, nothing but cry, like the useless bitch she was. These people disgusted her. Her father was tall and very, very drunk, but Dahlia was no coward as she raised her knee to his groin while swinging her arm into his stomach. “I want you to die, you fucking bastard!” It was the first time in five years she had spoken to him.

Her assault had little effect—after all, she was still just a thirteen-year-old girl, and a large arm pounded into her own stomach and the wind was knocked out of her, and she could feel another hand wrapping itself around her neck and she couldn’t breathe.

She woke up in the basement, her throat feeling so awfully, awfully tight. But what her father didn't know was that she had started to teach herself to break locks—the one on the cabinet that hid the gun away was too complicated, but the one on the basement door was easy enough. She crept through the hallways of the house; listened carefully for the sobs and the sound of breaking china that came from the kitchen. Her first step outside the house that night was her first taste of freedom—the feeling so strong in the air that she thought it was almost tangible enough to be captured between her fingertips. She looked at the front door of the dilapidated shack. No-one could tell that the man who lived there earned millions of dollars—millions of dollars that he gambled away, what little remaining of it wasted on drink.

However, she knew she had to come back some day. If she didn’t…she knew what she would have to do.

It took her three days of walking to reach the temple, her legs were cramping but anything was better than being at home, wanting to kill them all, but being too weak to be able to. She hadn’t had much water and her head spun as the temple’s main gate came into view, and she collapsed face first onto the ground.

The first thing she saw when she when she woke up was herself—or rather, someone who looked a lot like she did—her twin sister, Iris. “Dahlia?” her sister asked shyly. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

She was still exhausted from her journey. Her sister was so innocent it makes Dahlia wish Iris had been there too, to see the punches fall, to see the blood, to hear the cries in the middle of the night. Then again, then Iris would have been a coward for sure, just like Valerie, and Dahlia would then definitely have to kill Iris. When the day came, she would not let any cowards live, even if she became one herself. Everything hurt, in that moment, and she could feel the tears falling down her cheeks, and could hear Iris’s voice soothing. “It’s all right, Dahlia, you’re safe now. You never have to go back there. Sister Bikini says you can stay with us.”

Dahlia struggled to sit up straight, but as soon as she managed to do so, she found Iris latching onto her, arms wrapped around her torso and Dahlia struggled and pushed Iris away. Iris, not expecting resistance, fell to the ground in shock, her eyes betrayed.

“Don’t touch me,” Dahlia hissed, “or I will kill you.”

Tears welled up in Iris’s eyes. “It was just a hug…”

Dahlia didn’t know what a hug was, and she didn’t care. She just knew that touching other people was a bad thing to do, and that if Iris was one of those types of people, she would have to kill her too.

The Sister came around the corner next, and Dahlia raised her fists in anticipation of another attack, but the Sister didn’t come too close, and instead laughed an odd laugh. Dahlia didn’t understand it but it seemed to come from the nun’s heart. The Sister didn’t try to sooth her, or placate her with meaningless lies, but instead, she laughed, and announced that dinner would be ready soon.

Dinner that night didn’t come in a cardboard box or a greasy paper bag. It came in the form of stew, in a big ceramic bowl. She’d never seen such an odd thing in an entire life, but the Sister and Iris seem to think that it was normal. She had never tasted a better meal in her life either, and for the first time since she could remember she went to bed full, warm, and satisfied instead of angry.

She was standing in the garden, two weeks after she had first arrived, staring off into the horizon when Sister Bikini came and stood next to her, close, but not touching. “How are you liking Hazakura?”

To tell the truth, Dahlia never wanted to leave. The bruises on her own skin had almost faded. However, she knew she would have to go back to her family someday, even if it was just to kill them. Maybe the Sister saw the flash of anger in Dahlia’s eyes, because she stepped back in surprise. Dahlia tried her best to smile, like she knew how to a long time ago, maybe if she tried to be as sweet as Iris, she would one day become as innocent as Iris. She knew, deep down, that it was futile. She wasn’t like Iris, wasn’t like any of the other cowards, either.

Sometimes she still dreamt about the gun. “It’s quite nice here, Sister,” Dahlia answered.

“No-one will be able to hurt you here in Hazakura, Dahlia.” The Sister’s voice sounded so angry for such a gentle woman. “I will make sure of it.”

Dahlia wondered if the Sister is like her; if the Sister hated it when people didn't protect each other. She didn't look like the type, Dahlia admitted to herself. The Sister looked just like another coward; she didn’t look as though she had the same thoughts running through her head that Dahlia had.

“One night,” the Sister started to tell her, “a strange man came up the mountain, thinking he could rob the temple—not that there was anything to steal anyway. During his desperate search for anything of value, I picked up one of the wooden poles we use in our training and then—THWACK!’ the Sister shouted, smacking her lips together to make the loud sound, “I hit him over the head and called the police. No-one’s tried to rob us ever again.”

Dahlia wondered what her stepfamily would have done if someone had tried to rob their dishevelled shack—they’d have cried in the corner together, she supposed. The Sister laughed heartily, and Dahlia wondered if one day, she would learn to laugh too. The Sister was strong, the Sister wouldn’t stand by and do nothing like those disgusting excuses for human beings. And yet, the Sister was still so happy; able to laugh with such ease. Dahlia wished she could too, but the only time she could laugh was when she imagined her father’s dead body, cradled in her arms, as she held the still-smoking gun.

She decided then that she would become strong like the Sister, strong enough so that one day, when she went back to her family, she wouldn’t be thrown into the basement like a helpless little kitten. She would end it all, and then and only then would she feel free enough to smile, free enough to laugh, free enough to live.

*

Five years later, Dahlia had started to suspect that she was the coward.

Every few months for the past few years, she had tried to convince herself that she was strong enough to deal with her family, to deliver to them what they ultimately deserved. But then all she had needed to think about was Iris’s and Sister Bikini’s sad faces, their voices pleading, asking her to stay for just one more month and she had found that she couldn’t leave: she had clearly not become strong enough yet.

When she had turned eighteen it hadn’t been too hard for her to procure a gun. The feel of the metal in her hands made the fantasies seem so real somehow, but she was slowly starting to come to terms with the idea that she never wanted to see her family again, even though she had promised herself that she would. She could stay at Hazakura with Iris and Sister Bikini, and she could be happy.

But then, she reminded herself, if she didn’t go back, if she didn’t kill them all, there was only one thing left to do, what she promised herself when she was thirteen that she would do if it ever came down to this. She had run away—just like a coward. The situation she had pondered in her darkest moments was no longer hypothetical, but a reality.

Every morning she sat in front of the bathroom mirror, the gun pressed to the side of her head. Her face was pale, her heart was thumping, but every morning, she chickened out and hid the gun again, and promised herself that she would do it tomorrow.

Coward, coward, coward.

Today, she decided, there would be no tomorrows. Her hand was so shaky that at this rate, she would end up shooting herself in the nose. She would do it, though. She had to do it. For her sake. For her family’s sake. She just hoped…she just hoped that Iris and Sister Bikini wouldn’t be too sad.

Despite herself, she had grown fond of them. She could hear them now, arguing outside the door. Iris had a boyfriend, apparently, a boy at the college campus near the small town. Dahlia could hear Sister Bikini’s voice. “Don’t fret, Iris! I think this Feenie of yours will think you look beautiful no matter how long you spend in the bathroom. Dahlia always spends so much time in there these days, but you still both look exactly the same.”

“You think so?” Iris asked quietly. “I hope…”

Dahlia started laughing then: what sort of man wouldn’t love Iris? She was the sweet one, the pretty one, the innocent one, who didn’t have the disgusting thoughts running through her mind all day. Iris was one of the most honest and heartfelt people Dahlia had ever met.

She stared at the gun in her hand.

Could she really do this to either of them?

She could be strong in the way that the Sister had taught her how. Only a coward would have pulled the trigger a long time ago. When she was younger, when she had first thought of shooting her father, she had decided that killing herself too would be the coward’s way out. Why had she forgotten that? Somewhere along the way, she had become a coward, too scared of her recurring thoughts and dreams.

But now, she was definitely no coward. It took strength to live, despite the odds, it took strength to realise that after all these years she could not stop seeing the death of her father and stepfamily as justice in her mind, that it wouldn’t make her feel any better, wouldn’t make her any freer. She was free from them now, wasn’t she? She would help people when they needed it the most; she had learnt that the disgust she had felt as a child was the helplessness; the fantasies she had conjured in her mind had dealt with the problem in the only way she knew how. But she knew better now.

Pushing the door open, she saw Iris’s exasperated face waiting in the hallway. “Finally,” she muttered.

“Sorry.” Dahlia smiled, her fingers playing with the material of her sleeve. “I was just taking care of something.”

Iris smiled too. “Why, are you also going on a date, Dahlia? Without telling me?”

Dahlia laughed. It was the first time she had ever laughed without a gun in her hand. “No, silly. It’s nothing.” Five years ago, she had received her first taste of freedom. Now, she was completely free. Her past wouldn’t haunt her anymore. She was no longer a coward.

That night was the first night since she was a young child that she didn’t dream of her father’s death. Instead, she dreamed of the smiles on the faces of her sister and her sister's boyfriend when they had returned home that evening.

[victorcrystalgem]

People who say Kotetsu is like Iron-Man if he didn’t have money are wrong and ugly and I’m spitting on them, Kotetsu is like Spider-Man if he was a dad. Straight up, also I am spitting on you how dare you.

[allthatyoulove]

Girls Got Rhythm

Frank Castle/Female Reader (uses she/her pronouns, referred to as woman)

Chapter two of my Highway to Hell series!

Previous- Chapter 1: Highway to Hell

Summary: The Punisher saves you from torture at the hands of a notorious mob boss. Now, it’s you and him against what seems like the world. What could go wrong?

Warnings: cursing, blood, injuries, guns, death

Words: 7.4k

A/N: verrryyyyy lightly edited, was too excited to wait any longer before uploading this one. Please check out my ~prompt list~ Hope you enjoy the story, feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

Disclaimer: Frank is referred to as Pete. Pete is Frank. Frank is Pete. It’s an alias he uses in his show, Punisher, that I decided to have him introduce himself as in the fic. Anytime Pete is mentioned, it is Frank. :)

~~~

“That motherfucker!”

I stared in disbelief at the screen, the voice of the news broadcaster hitting deaf ears. It sounded like background noise as I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. I saw Pete moving from the corner of my eye, his voice bringing my focus back.

“What?” I asked, turning my head towards his direction. My eyes didn’t follow, continuing to stay on the screen. At this point the news had completely moved on, now talking about the weather. I still couldn’t look away. My attention still wavered.

“- police?” He said, looking at me. He waited for an answer. I didn’t hear the question, and I didn’t hear anything after. My mind was occupied.

What is happening? Why am I on the tv? What did he even say I did? I should’ve paid attention, now I don’t even know the crimes I’m supposed to have committed. How did the bastard even get me on the news? A picture and my name. I’m fucked. This means he’s getting desperate. If he sees me again, he will kill me. I’m sure of it.

My heart raced.

This is a low fucking blow. He even brought the guy- or I guess, Pete, with me. Shit. We are screwed. I should just turn myself in. I don’t have anywhere to go anyways, I should just-

“Hey.” He said, standing in front of the tv to break my gaze. My eyes shot up to his. I was panting, my heart beating out of my chest. My eyes watered as I looked up at him. I rapidly blinked to prevent the tears from coming out. I’m sure someone like him didn’t want to haul around a partner that was so emotional. This was all new to me. I can’t remember the last time I stepped outside that house, let alone without Leo right next to me.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, breaking our stare and looking at the ground. I shook my head, putting my hands in my lap to hide the shaking.

“Why’d he go to the police?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest. I brought my head up, meeting his eyes once again.

“He’s desperate.” I said, my mouth parting to try and breathe slower. I leaned back against the bed, propping myself up with my hands.

“He wants you back with him.” He said matter-of-factly. His eyes narrowed, gauging my reaction.

My face heated, my heart slowing down. I looked down at my lap. I hated the taught reaction my body had to him- to that sentence. He wants you back. With him. Back at home. Where you belong.

“I know too much.” I said, bringing my hands back to my lap to mess with them as I spoke. I couldn’t sit still. I needed to go, go, go. “I know everything about him. What he’s done, what he plans to do. Who he is, who doesn’t like him.” I looked back up at him. “Everything.”

He didn’t say anything, standing completely still as he continued to stare at me. I kept eye contact, trying to read what he was thinking. I was scared he’d change his mind about saving me, and throw me out. Throw me back out into the street, where anyone who watches the news will be waiting to rat me out. Then I’d end up right back into Leo’s hands.

The thought made my entire body break out in goosebumps. I rubbed my arms and stood up, pacing in front of the bed.

“Shit.” I whispered, my hands going everywhere. My arms, my hair, my waist. We were too vulnerable now. I was too vulnerable. Cops could be on their way over here right now, someone could’ve seen us walk in. They could be waiting right outside the door. What was I thinking, running away from Leo? I could never leave him. He’d always find me. I knew him, but he knew me too. He knows me. He knows me.

“Hey. Sit down.” He finally spoke, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I nodded profusely, sitting down instantly. I looked up at him in expectation, my knee bouncing up and down. He had to have a plan. I looked at him, at his unchanging expression. He didn’t seem affected by it at all. Then again, they didn’t even have a picture of him, but still. Anyone with me was a target. Though, that seemed to not bother him at all.

He must be a professional. That has to be it. He’s a professional, and he has a plan. There’s no need to worry. That’s why he let me have my little moment, and that’s why he told me to sit down. He was gonna tell me he has a plan, and that no one is going to get caught.

I waited in silence for him to speak. He just stared at me. At my knee that wouldn’t stop bouncing.

He finally looked away, looking around the room quickly before uncrossing his arms and leaning against the dresser that the tv sat on.

“We should probably get some rest.” He gruffed out, meeting my eyes again.

… Was that it?

“Get some rest… “

What the fuck?

“‘Get some rest?’ What the fuck do you mean get-”

-

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling in annoyance. I let out a dramatic sigh, though I knew it wouldn’t get any reaction out of him. His back was to me as he laid in the bed closest to the door.

This was such a dumb idea. Go to bed, when the police could be on their way over here right now. Or Leo.

That thought made me glance towards the door. A shadow passed by the window, walking past the motel. My heart raced with panic. I sat up, looking towards Pete. He didn’t move. Probably asleep. Or sane, and knowing that we are fine right now. The room was dark, the only light source being the streetlight outside of the room. The shadow didn’t return, and I didn’t hear any more noise. I closed my eyes and dropped back onto the bed.

We’re fine right now. No one is coming. Leo’s right here with me, I’m safe with him.

My eyes snapped open, the smile that formed on my mouth disappearing. Pete. Pete’s here with me. Not Leo.

I closed my eyes tightly, a tear slipping out against my will. I wiped it immediately, silently reminding myself of the personal vow I made to stop crying. I turned my back to the door, bringing my hands up to lay my head on them. Maybe resting was a good idea. Sleep, and then we’ll leave here. And be safe.

I’ll be safe…

“Who did you tell?” He asked calmly, putting gloves on. I thrashed against the ropes, making the friction burn me. I didn’t care. The pain was numbing. I couldn’t feel anything, my heart was beating so hard. I was surprised I could still talk with how scared I was.

“What are you talking about? Tell about what?” I asked hurriedly, continuing to thrash against the chair.

“Don’t fucking play dumb!” He yelled, slamming a hand against the table that sat in front of him. The table with weapons covering every inch of the surface. I flinched, my head shooting down to block my face as my eyes shut tightly. I waited, waiting for the hit. It never came.

I opened my eyes and looked back up, to him looking at all the weapons. A hand reached out, hovering over each weapon in thought.

“Who’d you rat me out to?” He asked, picking up a tiny knife.

I started crying, tears flowing down my face as I kept moving against the unforgiving ropes.

“I didn’t rat you out, Leo. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I promise, I promise.” I insisted, thrashing harder against the ropes as he started to walk closer to me. I could feel the ropes cutting through my skin.

“Please, please… please, please, please…” I begged.  I didn’t know what I was begging for. For him to stop. For him to forgive me. For some higher being to bring me back to the moment I reserved my spot in this chair. For things to go back to what they were.

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look up at him. I stopped moving, looking at his face. He looked down at me with sadness. I tried to blink away my tears, convinced I was seeing things.

“Don’t cry. C’mon, don’t cry.” He said, lowering himself so he was crouched in front of me. He was eye level with me, using the thumb of the hand he grabbed my face with to wipe the tears away. I cried harder, my heart warming slightly at watching his face fill with concern as he wiped the tears.

“Tell me who you told.” He whispered, continuing to rub my face.

I cried harder, shaking my head and trying to move it from his grasp. It was unrelenting, unforgiving. He tightened his grip, forcing me to look up at him. My jaw hurt, feeling like it was seconds away from breaking underneath his hold.

“Leo, please… I didn’t. I didn’t tell-” I began, speaking through sobs.

He turned my face away from his, like he couldn’t bear to look at me anymore. I felt the knife penetrate the skin of my thigh, sinking deeper and deeper. I screamed, trying to move away from him. It just made the cut deeper. It stung and burned, like he was trying to pull my heart out from the flesh of my leg. I screamed and screamed.

“You’re making me do this.”

My eyes shot open as I sat up immediately. My hands went to my thigh, trying to block the knife. I stopped, seeing the darkness of the motel room. I turned to my left, seeing Pete in the same position- with his back to me. He was still asleep. I was grateful I didn’t wake him up. It would’ve been embarrassing if I did.

I looked back down at my thigh, seeing the scarring of the cut that I dreamt about. Or, rather, the memory I decided to relive.

I dropped back against the bed, panting as I tried to catch my breath. I let my arms drop to the sides, holding onto the bed. I’m here. In the motel. Safe.

My forehead lined with sweat as my heartbeat still raced in my chest. I wanted to cry. Out of frustration, out of anger.

I hated how much time I spent thinking about him. How even when I wasn’t thinking of him, I really was. I hated how much of my life he intruded on. He can’t even leave me alone in my dreams.

I didn’t want to cry. I refused to let myself cry again. I felt so drained, mentally and physically. My body felt heavy against the bed. I wanted to let myself sink into the mattress, falling into a nothingness forever.

I needed to do something. I couldn’t let him take over my life. I got this second chance, I needed to use it. What I needed to use it for- I could figure out later.

I sat up, looking around the motel. There was still an hour or two before the sun completely revealed itself, and Pete was as still as a statue. He hadn’t moved an inch out of the position he’d been in last night. Another thing he must be used to- getting sleep wherever he can get it.

One of the many other things that were currently bothering me was how little I knew about the man next to me. I wasn’t lying earlier, Leo did tell me everything, but Pete must've come in after I got into my… predicament. Still, I had no idea why this man was there. What he did, who he is. He could be a criminal wanted for murder or assault, or something even worse. Yet here I am, sharing a motel with the guy. Feeling… oddly safe about it too. Regardless, I made a mental note to force some information out of the guy later on.

Until then, though… What should I do? I looked around the room. Tv stand. Tv. Dresser. Two beds, a rug. A table with a lamp and a phone. Nothing that screamed: “Entertainment! So much so you’ll forget you’re now a wanted criminal!”

I didn’t have anything to do but wait. Wait for Pete to wake up, to continue running away from everyone who now was looking for us. Or, rather, me. The only one between us who has the supposed criminal. The irony in that wasn’t lost on me.

I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. A few hours in silence, with nothing to entertain me but my mind. Should be fine, right?

-

I swiped my hand across the mirror, trying to clear some of the condensation to look at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were striking, screaming how little sleep I’ve had. The blood around my face was mostly gone, save for the dry cuts littering throughout. There were little to no blood stains that were visible from my neck up, which I was grateful for. I looked much better than I did yesterday. Every hour I spent away from that torture chamber was an hour I got closer to being myself again. At least, physically. The constant burning of my thighs was something I’d become adjusted to, with the occasional sharp pains that came with moving the wrong way or too fast. All of this I could get used to. For the sake of becoming my own person again.

For what seemed like the first time since I’d left, a flicker of hope flared from deep within me. I shot myself a quick smile in the mirror before looking around for my clothes. I looked around, my brows knitted together in confusion as I had a hard time looking for them.

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I came to realize that I didn’t have any clothes. I’d been in the same outfit since the day I sat in that chair, this being the first time out of them. Guess I should’ve packed a bag when running away from the psycho mob boss.

What do I do now?

I don’t have anything to wear, and I’m standing here in nothing but a towel. I couldn’t put my clothes back on, they were covered in blood.

Maybe the motel puts clothes in the dresser. Though that would mean walking out into the room like this and looking for them.

I walked over to the bathroom door, putting my ear to the door. I didn’t hear anything. No footsteps or shuffling around on the other side. Maybe that means he’s still asleep. Only one way to find out.

I opened the door, peaking my head out of the bathroom. The bed was completely empty, no trace of where Pete had laid. My heart dropped for a second before I saw his suitcase still on the floor.

He didn’t leave me. There’s no way he’d leave his bag that was full of his stuff with me unless he was coming back.

I took this chance and did a quick jog to the dresser between our beds, opening the drawer. I looked down at the contents of the drawer, irritation filling my expression.

Inside the drawer lay a bible and laminated papers with directions on how to use the phone and tv. Another paper lay under that one, with a menu to the room service. I picked it up slowly, looking at all of the options. My stomach growled loudly as I quietly read over all the food. Now that I think about it, it’s been a couple days since I last ate. That would have to be our next course of action before we left.

My thoughts were interrupted by the shutting of the door, making me jump and spin towards the door. Pete stood there with his back to me, locking the door and peeking out the window before finally turning to face me. He stared at me with a neutral expression. I looked down at his hands- one carrying a bag of stuff that I wasn’t able to make out, and a plate of food. My stomach growled again as I looked back up at him. His eyes quickly scanned me up and down, which brought a confused reaction from me before I suddenly remembered what I was wearing- nothing.

My mouth fell open, throwing the menu back into the dresser and shutting it before tightly holding my towel to my chest with both of my arms.

“Sorry. I was just-”

“Brought food.” He interrupted, his voice rough and certain, like he knew where the conversation was going and intentionally avoided it. He held up the food, then the bag. “And clothes.”

I sighed, my body slumping slightly and my eyes closing with relief.

“Thank you. You’re amazing.” I said, stepping forward and grabbing the bag out of his hands. He turned his gaze towards the floor, nodding once. He shifted uncomfortably, trying not to look at me. I held back a laugh, turning to go change in the bathroom.

“Wait.” He gruffed out, making me stop in my tracks. I turned, looking at him expectantly. He slowly trailed his gaze back over to me, starting from my legs and trailing up to my eyes. Then back to my thigh.

“You’re bleeding.”

My eyebrows scrunched together as I followed his eyes, looking down at my thigh. He was right- the particularly hurtful gash I had dreamt about last night had reopened, bleeding down my leg and inching towards the floor. I looked down at my hands, wondering how I was to stop it from bleeding without stripping naked.

“Shit.” I said, setting the bag down on the bed. He set the plate of food onto his own bed, walking in long strides to the bathroom.

“Sit down.”

I sat down, watching him walk into the bathroom. I heard him rummaging around in there, using this opportunity to quickly use the end of my towel to wipe the blood away from the bottom of my leg. I quickly sat back up as he walked back into the room, with more towels and a tiny medical kit. One that I recognized from the back of his van.

He stood in front of me, looking down at me with an indiscernible look. I looked up at him, my face starting to heat under his stare- waiting. After a few moments of eye contact, he kneeled down in front of the bed.

“Oh, no you- you don’t have to-” I started, squeezing my legs together as he got closer to the gash. I became aware of how little I was wearing, trying to scoot back on the bed and away from him. The look he shot me stopped my sentence short. I stopped moving, sitting still as I breathed heavily and watched him. One of my hands across my chest, holding the towel together and the other holding it down at the apex of my thighs.

My heart was beating extremely fast, with both worry and… embarrassment? Or rather, fondness. He got his things ready, still not having made any contact with the bleeding gash. He brought one hand that was holding a towel very tightly up to rest on the bed, next to my legs as he finally met my eyes. I noticed his knuckles were white with how tightly they were holding the towel before he started speaking, tearing my gaze away from his hand and to his eyes.

“Can I help you?” He asked, obviously sensing my anxious state. It was strange seeing someone in this position, wanting to help me. Having no evil intentions. My body was still conditioned to think otherwise. I knew he wanted to help, and I needed it. Though I wish he didn’t have to ask it, but get it over with. Still, the question brought a blush to my cheeks and a fluttering in my stomach. I would still be thrashing around if he didn’t ground me by asking the question.

I let out a short yet sharp breath through my nose before replying.

“Yes.”

He nodded, his stare lingering at my eyes before he looked at the gash, bringing the towel over to the bleeding. The moment they connected, a burning spread through my thigh and to the rest of my leg. The hand that held the towel together at my thighs instantly reacted, shooting out to cover Pete’s hand. I winced, his hand stopping the movement and looking up at me expectantly. I blushed again in embarrassment, whispering an apology before putting my hand back on the bottom of the towel. He simply continued to clean off the blood in silence. I bit back groans of pain as he roughly wiped at the wound, whatever liquid he soaked the towel in burning all of the bacteria out.

A tear slipped out of my eye unwillingly, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or the predicament we were in. Regardless, I wiped it away as fast as it fell. He finished cleaning the wound, putting all the stuff away and standing up to look down at me. I fell backwards onto the bed, huffing out a breath of relief.

He stood there silently, watching me as I caught my breath. I didn’t realize I had been holding it until he finally pulled the cloth away. As we stared at each other, I thought I saw the beginning of what looked like a faint blush beginning to cover his face before he turned away, walking towards the bathroom.

“Get dressed and eat. Gonna shower and leave soon.” He gruffed out, slamming the door behind him. I smiled to myself as I sat up, looking over at the plate of food. Almost every food I had seen on the menu was piled onto the plate, with a glass of water sitting on the dresser. The clothes sat next to it, the name of a nearby store plastered onto the plastic bag it was sitting in. I smiled even bigger.

He bought me clothes.

—

I stood on the concrete outside the motel room, waiting for Pete to lock up the room behind us and return the keys. I looked at the sky, taking deep breaths. The sun shined brightly in the middle of the sky, telling me it was almost mid-day. I wondered where the day would take us. Where we were off to next. I hoped he had a plan, somewhere to go after this. Maybe we could hop from motel to motel until we were safe.

I took in the warmth of the sun, stretching where I stood when he walked past me and towards his car. I was taken off guard, jogging to catch back up with him. He unlocked the car.

“Get in.” He gruffed out, going to the trunk to throw his things in. I looked at him in confusion, listening to his command regardless. He bought me clothes and food as soon as he had woken up and without being asked, but now barks orders at me with no hint of kindness in his voice. It had already started to look too good to be true.

I couldn’t help the disappointed feeling that spread into my heart, cementing the once too-familiar walls around it once again.

I shut the door, buckling up and sitting up straight in the passenger seat, waiting. The van rattled with the force at which he shut the back doors, the sound of his things being tossed around in the back to go along with it. I heard him stomp around the side, opening the door to get in. I watched him from the sides of my eyes, watching him start the car. He didn’t buckle up, simply throwing some tiny bag at my feet in the passenger. The car roared to life, Pete instantly putting it in reverse. He didn’t bother to look behind him before backing up, one hand on the wheel to turn it towards the main road.

It wasn’t long before we were back on that all-too familiar highway.

The silence- though becoming familiar in the presence of this man, was unsettling this time. It felt like there were things that needed to be said by both of us, but neither of us wanted to do it. I figured now would be a good time to start chipping away at my long list of questions for him- before he beat me to it.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked, his other hand coming up to hold the wheel- almost uncomfortably. The formality of the question bothered me, though I guess we weren’t exactly comfortable with each other yet. I decided to indulge his pointless question, a tiny part of me appreciating the fact he was even trying.

“Like a baby.” I lied, faking a small smile and looking over at him. I set my left arm on the console between us, trying to make the atmosphere of the car more comfortable and… intimate, in a way. “You?”

He shot a look over at me, like he was trying to read my face. It felt like he was staring directly into my soul. Like he knew I was lying. I stared back at him, trying not to fidget with anxiety. He looked back to the road, dropping the analyzing stare.

“Me too.” He replied nonchalantly.

A blanket of silence fell over the car once again. Though, this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. However, I still had questions to ask.

“So, what’s the plan now that we’re wanted criminals?” I asked, trying to make it sound playful and light-hearted, though my heart beat in my chest with worry. The sentence wasn’t sarcasm, and that brought fear back into me.

His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, adjusting in his seat at the question. I waited, already growing accustomed to the thought he put behind each question asked of him.

“Plan?” He asked, his eyes shooting to the mirror again before signaling and abruptly changing lanes. My eyes went to the highway before going back to him.

“Yeah. The plan to get us out of this mess. Or, at least into hiding until everyone forgets our supposed crimes.” I explained further, my worry increasing at the thought that he doesn’t have a plan.

“This mess isn’t as big as it seems.” He said, looking tense as he held the steering wheel. I waited for him to continue, though he looked like he was done talking. I was extremely confused.

“Not as big as it seems? We were on the news.” I retorted. This seemed obvious to me. He scoffed.

“Ricci isn’t as big and bad as you make him out to be. His first instinct was to go to the police and rat you out. He wants other people to do his dirty work, which I doubt they will unless he’s paying them a hefty amount.” He said roughly, as if I didn’t know what I was talking about.

The mention of Leonardo’s last name made my mouth dry up, my heart dropping to my feet. I turned my head back towards the road, taking my arm off the console and trying to shrink back into my seat. He shot a look over at me, but I remained with my stare at the road in front of us. I was fuming with anger.

Isn’t as big and bad as you make him out to be.

He cleared his throat, attempting to make his demeanor come off softer before I stopped him from talking again.

“So that’s why this is no big deal to you.” I scoffed, my anger coming to the surface. His facial expression changed back into its normal emotionless state as I went on. “You’re still a ghost. All they had on you was your name. No picture, no made-up list of crimes. I’m just fucking deadweight, is that it?”

A moment of silence passed between us as the atmosphere adjusted. My anger filled the space of the car, leaving no remains of the familiarity we had started to build just moments ago.

“I’m dropping you off in the city.” He said suddenly, his voice gravelly. My heart dropped. My body went through a number of emotions. I was scared, then I was fucking pissed. I stared at him in silence for a couple of moments, deciding whether or not to say something else. He didn’t react at all, sitting perfectly still as if he hadn’t just said he was kicking me out.

Fuck this. I’m tired of biting my tongue.

“You know what your problem is?” I started, unbuckling my seatbelt and shifting in my seat to face him. He shot me a side glance, then looked into his rearview mirror before looking back at the road.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“You got fucking issues. Issues that you should’ve sorted out before deciding to play hero and getting me out of that place. ‘Cause I probably would’ve been safer, getting fucking tortured there than sitting in this van with some stranger who’s throwing me right back out onto the street.”

His jaw tensed and untensed against my words. He fidgeted in his seat looking out his side and rear view mirrors, getting angrier. I didn’t care. I kept going.

“And I’m not dead weight. I’m really fucking helpful, and you’ll need me. I know you think I’m just some fragile little stuck-up princess who would’ve been long dead if you hadn’t been oh-so-kind as to rescue me, but you don’t know shit about me. Or what I’ve been through.” I finished, letting out a breath before I turned to look out the window.

My words lingered in the air as we fell into silence once again. I silently caught my breath, not saying anything else. I couldn’t believe he ever saved me in the first place if he planned to just kick me out like this. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t know anybody. I would just end up right back into Leo’s hands. The thought made my body break out into goosebumps.

I heard him say something, his voice rough and quick. I was too angry to be focused on anything but my thoughts.

“What?” I snapped at him, sighing dramatically. I’m surprised he had more to say. Of course now he decides to be all talkative.

“Someone’s following us.” He repeated, both of his hands holding the wheel. His stare stayed on the rear view mirror. There was nobody in front of us for miles.

My face paled, my heart dropping to my feet. I turned around quickly, my hands holding the back of the seat. There was a single black suv, only a few car’s lengths away from us. I couldn’t see the driver.

I didn’t say anything in response. I didn’t know what to do.

“Turn around.” Pete spoke sharply. I immediately turned around, not knowing where to look. My heart thumped in my chest with anxiety.

“What do we do?” I asked, trying not to look over at him. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea for them to know we were onto them.

“Stay low.” He said, pulling onto the side of the road. I shrunk down from my seat, just my eyes being seen from the side mirror. I waited, my heart racing. Pete sat in the driver's seat, looking calm as ever as he watched the mirrors. I couldn’t see them from the angle I was at, so I just stared at his face- his reaction, as to whether or not we were fucked. Not that it ever revealed much.

I heard gravel crunching from behind us. Curiosity taking over me, I slowly shimmied back up the seat to see more through the mirror. As I sat up, I saw the car getting closer and closer. We both waited, holding our breath, as we waited for it to pass us.

Except it didn’t.

The car swerved off the road, aiming to hit the back of our van.

“Shit.” Pete grunted out, kicking the car back into drive and flooring it. I got pushed back against the seat as we flew back onto the highway. My heart dropped, all thoughts from my head being wiped as I whipped my head around. I watched the car behind us as it mimicked our actions, the suv picking up speed as it tried to keep up with us. He swerved across the highway, trying to lose them. I sat there, panting with my head turned around to watch the car.

My breathing had started to slow down as I watched them. Only a few moments had passed since we started speeding, and I knew I’d be paying for the rapid shifts in my emotions later.

All that was on my head right now, however, was the car. The windows were all tinted, as dark as they could go. They were determined in their chase, copying our every move as they kept up pace. They even started to gain on us. There still wasn’t a single person in sight. No one hanging out the window, trying to shoot us or throw some explosive. Just following. I could see the reflection of the van in their windows- when I suddenly got an idea. I whipped my head towards his direction.

“You got a gun?” I asked, still hanging onto the sides of the passenger seat. He started to shake his head immediately. “I know you do, Pete. C’mon. I just wanna lose ‘em.” I said, making sure he knew by my tone that I was serious. I knew I could do this, and it’s not like we had any other choice.

He sat there, both hands holding the wheel, as he visibly fought against the thought. I nodded, hurriedly reaching my hand out in waiting. He glanced at my hand, then back at the rearview mirror- which showed the suv getting closer and closer to us. He gave a final shake of his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to do.

“In the bag. At your feet.” He grunted out, nervously fidgeting his hands that were on the wheel. I grinned, going to snatch open the bag at my feet. There was a small pistol inside. I cheered, looking up at him with a smile on my face. He simply looked at me for a second, his brows furrowed in concentration before going back to the road.

“Watch this.” I said in a cocky tone. I rolled down both of our windows, the breeze flooding into the van. It was aggressive and whipping as we raced down the highway. I stuck the upper half of my body out, trying not to fall out the window. I thanked my childhood self defense teacher as I started doing the breathing exercises I mastered long ago. They’d come in handy these past few weeks.

“I can do this. I can do this.” I repeated to myself underneath the sound of the rushing wind. I made sure I was sturdy against the window as quickly as I could. I didn’t want them having a chance to fight back. As quickly as I sat on the window, I raised the gun and aimed where I wanted. I didn’t think twice- letting out a quick exhale before pulling the trigger.

My eyes flinched subconsciously as the shot rang out, before I pried them right back open to watch.

The bullet flew straight into the right front wheel, making the car spin out and off the road. I cheered, climbing back into the car and looking over at Pete.

He had a smirk on his face, nodding as if to say “well, look at you.” I couldn’t wipe the huge smile off my face, my heart racing with excitement. I knew I could do it.

“Not such a deadweight now, huh?” I asked, laughing to myself as I reveled in the small victory.

“I wouldn’t celebrate yet.” He said suddenly, the smirk gone from his face. I looked at him with confusion, following his eyes that were in the mirror once again. I turned around, seeing another suv that looked identical to the one that was chasing us before.

“What the fuck? Where’d this guy come from?”

We couldn’t catch a break.

I made sure the pistol was still loaded, turning back around to watch the suv. It was doing the same as the last- just following. I saw Pete shoot me a surprised glance, but I didn’t have time to yell at him about his low expectations towards me right now. I leaned back out the window, aiming the gun at the same tire as the last.

This suv was more prepared than the last.

As soon as I raised my arm to shoot, an arm appeared out of the window of the suv- firing a round straight towards me. I reacted on instinct, ducking right back into the car.

“Shit.” I cursed, my hand going to my face. My cheek burned and I pulled it away to a tiny bit of blood. The bullet had just grazed my face. They were aiming for my head. My stomach dropped at the thought, but I was alive and that’s all that mattered right now. I didn’t have time to waste.

Pete sat in the driver seat, frantically looking between the mirrors, the road, and me. I ignored him, watching the car. The arm had disappeared, and they were coming around to my side of the car now. I had to do something, fast.

I crawled out of my seat and into the back of the van.

“Hey, what’re you doing?” He asked, turning around quickly to look at me.

“Eyes on the road.” I raised my voice, pointing the pistol at the glass. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions. The suv was almost caught up to the van.

“Hey, careful with that thing.” He replied, subtly trying to dodge the barrel of the gun. I rolled my eyes, muttering a “yeah, yeah” as I crawled to the doors.

I sat on the steel floor of the van, kicking my feet out to slam against the doors. They flew open, a few things flying out- a bandage, a small dirty towel. The suv was directly in front of me, getting closer and closer. I still couldn’t see the people who were driving, despite being this close to them. Some crazy fucking tint they got.

I smiled at them, giving a quick wave before shooting out both front tires. They tried to slam on the brakes as soon as the doors flew open, but I was too quick. They swerved off the road, into a nearby forest. I grimaced as I watched the van fly into a tree. Oops.

I sat on the floor, catching my breath for a second before seeing yet another suv merging onto the highway.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I yelled, scrambling to shut the van doors. I struggled against the wind, using all of the muted strength I currently had to pull them shut without falling onto the concrete. I finally got them shut, crawling back up to the passenger seat. I figured I had a second to catch my breath before this one caught up.

“You plan to help at all, or just keep sitting there and watching me?” I asked, plopping myself into the passenger seat. He looked at me, making eye contact as if he wasn’t currently the driver in a high speed chase. I just sat there, panting and holding the stare. He finally smirked and turned his head back to the road.

“Think I’ll just watch.” He grunted. “Feel free to drive, princess. Would’ve probably been safe by now if I was the one shooting.”

I rolled my eyes, both at the nickname and the sudden boost of confidence from the man who sat and did nothing. The eyeroll couldn’t stop the light blush rising to my face. I looked at him, prepared to throw back a snarky remark before I saw the van pulling up right next to us.

“Shit, look out!” I yelled, frantically crawling to the driver seat.

“Hey, watch it!” He yelled, swerving as he tried to keep the car from skidding off the road. The window of the suv rolled down, a gun coming out of the window.

I sat up straight, closing one of my eyes and leaning forward- pressing against Paul as I immediately pulled the trigger, trying to beat the other guy to it. As soon as the shot rang out, I opened my eyes to see if I made it.

My eyes met the ones of the armed shooter, seeing his shocked expression. I had shot straight through his neck. He gasped for air as my mouth dropped, staring into the eyes of one of Leo’s men.

“Danny?” I muttered, my skin paling and my heart dropping. The suv screeched as the driver slammed on the brakes, flying back and away from us. I stuck my head out of the window, watching it as it came to a stop in the middle of the road. It flew farther and farther away from us as we continued to speed away. I watched it until it completely faded out of view.

I finally brought my head back into the car, coming face to face with Pete. He was looking at me with an indiscernible look. I felt numb, like what just happened didn’t actually happen.

I didn’t have any time to think about it, as I realized how close I was to Pete’s face. I looked down, seeing that I was straddling him in the driver's seat, my chest pressed to his. He wasn’t looking at the road, staring right back at me. The car kept racing, like he didn’t even need to look. We were both panting, just staring at each other. The adrenaline slowly came to a halt, my face heating instantly.

“Oh, uh- sorry.” I muttered, crawling back over to my seat. He cleared his throat, adjusting in his seat. I brushed my clothes off, running a hand through my hair as I let out a long exhale. I looked at the road, then down at my hands. I was still holding the gun, my finger still on the trigger. I shifted my hold, taking it off and putting it back into the bag on the ground.

I didn’t feel like crying, but the reality of what I’d just done, and who I’d just killed was far away from me- like I couldn’t have actually just killed him. Not Danny. One of the men who has been with Leo almost as long as I have.

How did they even know where we were?

No one had seen us go into or leave the motel, and the news had just broken last night. There’s no way someone in that empty town could’ve called the police, let alone notify Leo. It made no sense.

I didn’t spiral too far into my thoughts, Pete cutting through the quiet atmosphere with his rough voice.

“I, uh-” He cleared his throat, “I know a place. A place we can lay low until the media’s off our back. It’s in New York.”

He stared straight ahead, still as ever. I nodded, muttering an “okay.”

I turned my head towards the window so he couldn’t see the smirk that broke out over my face. Guess I proved him wrong after all.

The wind became more comforting as he gradually slowed back down to a normal speed. The sun started to set, just the long road ahead visible as we drove through the night. I had plenty to think about on the long trip to whatever mysterious place Pete had in mind. However, there was one main thing I couldn’t shake from my thoughts.

I wasn’t sure whether the reactions I got from Pete and I’s touches were from a softer, much scarier, feeling I started to develop towards him as we spent time together- though it had only been a little over two days (most of which I spent unconscious). Or, rather, the feeling stemming from the excitement of finally having a partner. A partner in crime- someone that looks out for me, as much as I look out for them. Regardless, I wasn’t completely opposed to the feeling. I could feel the hardened walls around my heart start to chip, ever so slowly.

[saksukei]

minghao nine lives au

masterlist | other aus based on their songs

they say only cats have nine lives, but you begged to differ, humans did too, but they didn't remember,,, you were a living example, obviously, how could someone forget the xu minghao? in all your nine lives, the one and only, the love of your life.

how could anyone ever forget someone like him? the way his lips tasted, the way he’d wrap his arms around you, protecting you from the evils of the world, the way he’d press kisses to your neck, the way his hands would roam each crevice of your body.

most importantly, how beautiful his heart was, the way he’d help others and go out of his way, the way he’d always find the right words to say and how he confessed his love in every goddamn life he met you in,,

the only downside was, he never remembered each lifetime like you did, so for him, it was falling in love with a new person each time. for you, it was falling in love with the same person for a thousand years.

your mind drifts off to the first time you met him, in your first life, where he was just a young boy, trying to sell his cattle in the market, while you were chasing after your little chicken that had gone out of control [mulan styles] and you ended up bumping into him,, minghao caught the chicken for you, and ever since then, you’d see him everywhere

soon enough you found out he was the only son, his mother was sick and he had to take care of her,, being the sole wage earner, you’d secretly sneak out food from your own house for him and that's how you spent countless hours with the brunette boy,,,

then the second time, when he was an aristocrat. you had met him in the gambling match, where you had beaten him with sheer luck in a game of poker,, you recognized minghao and who he was in an instant. he didn't. nonetheless, you had caught his eye and he pursued you long enough, till he was pushed to take part in the war and everything went downhill,,,

the third time, when you met him in highschool. he was your bench mate and the class monitor, so incredibly smart like he always was. and oh boy when you snuck to an arcade instead of attending your class, he told the teacher. the two of you becoming enemies, but you could never really hate minghao, could you?

the fourth time, when he was a prince and you were just a worker in the palace,, a clumsy one at that,, yet he always greeted you with a smile, because you two had grown up together. “marry me?” he asked. and that's how you became a princess.

the fifth time, when minghao was perhaps a notorious assassin and his target was you, a witness. and the way he couldn't even bring his gun to point at you.

the sixth time, when he was nothing more than a prisoner, who was almost about to die of starvation, and you decided you’d help him, only for him to come back years later in your life, to thank you.

the seventh time, when he was a doctor that had saved your life from perhaps what would have been a fatal accident. His hands were always magical, weren't they? and you couldn't help but dote on the cute little doctor with dimples.

the eighth time, when you saved his life in an apocalypse. your knife skills were exemplary, aiming at the zombie, one shot kill. minghao was out of breath from all the running, “thank you,” he says. and you smile. weren't you the one that should be thankful?

and the ninth time, this life. the one where the two of you were just two university students and he helped you with your assignment and perhaps with the grade that could have decided your future. such a savior he was, wasn't he?

and now, here you were, in your shared apartment. university had ended almost three years ago. while minghao became a famous painter, you were a teacher, for nursery children.

you had journals of each life time with him, but what was terrifying was the realization that like a cat, even nine lives had to come to an end. you had lived all of them and now you waited, in minghao’s arms, for the day the sweet kiss of death would linger on your lips.

oh how you wished you could spend all eternity in your lovers arms, yet time itself did not allow it. it seemed as if the world was against you.

“darling?” minghao calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts. “are you okay? you've been staring at me as if you're about to murder me this instant.”

you laugh, you’d miss his humor so much. “sorry, hao,” you shoot him an apologetic look. “i promise I don't plan on murdering you, just yet.”

“alright, give me a heads-up before you do, I still have a lot of kisses to steal,” he grins, as he goes in to kiss you.

it seemed like no matter what era you were born in, his kisses had the same effect, they were electrifying yet somehow, they radiated warmth and comfort? minghao’s kisses were paradoxical themselves.

“minghao, can I tell you something?” you ask, as if he'd ever refuse.

“anything but–I would advise against the gruesome details of murder, I just ate.”

you chuckle. ever since you'd meet minghao in different lifetimes, you'd ask him the same question and his response was the same. it didn't mean that he remembered any of it, it just meant that he was still minghao after all those years.

“hao, what if I tell you I've known you for a thousand lifetimes?” you question.

“then I would tell you I've loved you for a thousand of them.”

“and what if I told you this was the last time?” you ask,, you were always afraid you wouldn't wake up after one of your lives,, and this time,, it was going to be true,, sooner or later.

“then i’d tell you that time is not fair, eternity is not enough, not enough time to think about you.”

[specialagentlokitty]

Dean x Teen!reader - family

Hi! So glad you open your asks up so I was wondering if you could do one where Dean meets Child Reader who's a baby werewolf and when she changed she's a tiny werepup and just fluffy cute things - Anon💜

Standing in the middle of the wear house, you were eating an apple you’d stolen from a local market.

You hated this, but you needed to eat somehow, and you knew that there was a full moon coming up soon, so you heaved a heavy sigh and walked over to the chains in the corner.

You picked them up and examined them, you could definitely only use them one or two more times before you’d have to steal some new ones.

Letting them drop to the floor, you froze in place when you heard steps coming from somewhere across the building.

“Damn place is too big…” a man whispered.

You crouched down, and carefully walked over to cargo crate and peered from around it.

Your eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and you could see a man walking around, gun in hand as he stalked about in the shadows.

You knew immediately what he was and quietly ran back, jumping on to an old ladder, you climbed up and onto the steel beams that held the roof up.

“Please leave.” You called down.

“What the hell?!”

You watched the man jump, spinning around. He didn’t know where to turn.

“Where the hell around you!?” He yelled.

“Please.. I’m not the one you want to kill…”

“If that’s the case then come down and we’ll see about that!”

You didn’t move, but you were hearing something stalking around outside.

Sniffing the air, you growled lowly, crouching onto the beam.

It was the werewolf you’d originally brought the hunter here.

In the blink of eye, he charged through the walls of the building, tackling the Hunter to the ground.

You watched them fight, trying to find the perfect time to jump down.

When you saw your opening you jumped, landing on the other werewolf, you slammed his head into the ground and jumped back off.

The other werewolf turned to you and snarled, you snarled back, both of you moving slowly in circles. When you were in front of the Hunter, you stopped.

“Leave.” You snarled.

“Back off kid.” He growled.

You stood up straight, tilting your head as you looked at him.

He stopped, falling to his knees as he bowed his head towards you.

“W..what the hell?!” He yelled.

You walked over, kicking him to the ground, placing your foot on his chest, your eyes flicking from gold to red before going back to gold.

“Never mess with an alpha.”

Kicking his side, you walked away from the pair.

A shot rang out and you flinched but didn’t say anything, you knew that’s what the hunters did to people like you.

“Dean?!” Someone yelled.

“In here Sam!”

You sat in the corner, pulling your knees up to the chest.

You could hear the men whispering in the corner, but you didn’t bother to listen to the conversation.

“The infamous winchesters.” You mused.

“You know us?” Dean asked.

“The whole supernatural world knows of the winchesters.”

You looked up, seeing them stood over you. You weren’t scared, you knew one day that hunters would come for you.

“Why did you save me?” Dean asked.

“Because I do not agree with those who harm others without reason.”

He shared a look with his brother before they both turned back to you once more.

You stood up, taking Sam’s hand, you aimed his gun right at your forehead.

“If you’re going to kill me just do it. Don’t bother wasting time.”

Sam quickly pulled away and put his gun into his jeans.

“Who are you?”

“(Y/N). Alpha.”

“Pretty going to be an alpha around you?” Sam asked.

“Pretty tall to be wearing platformed boots aren’t you?”

Dean smirked and Sam opened his mouth but closed it again.

Grinning, you titled your head a little as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.

“I like her.” Dean chuckled.

“Of course you would. I’m leaving.”

Sam left and Dean watched you walk about.

“How long have you been here?”

“A few years.”

“No family?”

“Nope.”

Dean made a noise and you turned around. He looked around awkwardly, before turning back to you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“If you’re meaning for humans, no. I’d you mean for normal food, yes.”

He chuckled lightly and gestured for you to follow him, so you did. You made sure to keep your distance as you approached the car, Dean leant into a seat before he tossed something your way.

Grabbing the snack, you quickly ate it.

Dean leant against his car while you watched you. His heart-broke, seeing how tired and sick you looked you were covered in dirt and covered in bruises and scrapes.

You reminded him of him when he was younger.

“Come with us.”

“What?!” You and Sam both yelled.

“Come on Sammy, she’s got no where and amazing control. What can go wrong?”

“Uhm everything?”

“Come on man, we can’t just leave her out here.”

Sam sighed, he knew there was no arguing with Dean. He turned to you to wait for your reply.

“I.. Uhm…”

You didn’t know what to say. As you looked at the Winchester brothers you remembered your brothers before everything went wrong.

“Sure… I guess.”

Dean opened the car door for you and you looked back at your once home before getting into the car.

Maybe this was the new chance you needed to be able to live freely. Maybe this is what you need to escape the demons that haunted you.

Seeing Dean smile brightly you smiled as well, he definitely was an older brother

[the-bau-quinjet]

hiii! i don’t know if you have done this but can you do a hotch x reader where they get kidnapped by tobias instead of reid? xx

4 Months

Warning: Criminal Minds level violence, drugs, torture, rabid dogs

Word Count: 3562

a/n: I decided to switch up some of the specifics, just to make it a bit more fun to read. I hope you like it :) Also, we're pretending Rossi was there bc he is really the father of the group and it fit better than having Gideon 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

"JJ, we have to split up." You barely looked back at her, missing the nervous expression on her face as you ran toward the cornfield. "I'll take the field, you take the barn."

You slowed to a brisk walk as you neared the cornfield, raising your gun in front of you. You couldn't help but think about how pissed Hotch would be if he knew what you were doing.

You shook off the thought, knowing he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

Spotting movement, you moved farther into the corn, trying to spot any signs indicating which way Tobias went. A bent corn husk was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

-

"He's not a witness. He's the unsub." Hotch's eyes went wide as he realized you and JJ were there without backup. "Call JJ, now." He instructed Morgan, taking out his own phone to call you.

Hotch's eyes met Morgan's as both calls went unanswered. No words were exchanged as everyone ran out to the SUVS, putting on bulletproof vests as they went.

Hotch was nervously tapping the steering wheel the entire drive to Hankel's house. He couldn't stop replaying your last conversation.

"Y/N, you and JJ go talk to Hankel. Find out if he saw anything." Despite his stern expression, you could tell his eyes were smiling at you.

"Sure thing." You nodded, mouthing 'I love you' before turning to JJ.

That's it. He didn't even have the chance to mouth it back. JJ would've seen, and even though the team has theories about your relationship, you haven't confirmed anything yet.

He pulled into the driveway, running up to the house, gun out before anyone could stop him.

Prentiss followed Hotch, Morgan and Reid took the left, Rossi and a local cop took the right.

They tore through the house, clearing it with fierce determination, but came up empty.

"It's clear." Rossi called, joining Hotch and Prentiss in the living room. "Where are Morgan and Reid?"

Hotch spared a glance out the window, discovering the barn likely being cleared by the missing agents.

Everyone ran out of the house, arriving outside the barn just as Morgan and Reid lead a distressed JJ outside.

"What happened?" Hotch questioned, glancing over JJ's shoulder into the barn. Clearly you weren't there, but he needed to hope.

"We split up. Y/N went into the cornfield... I had- I had to shoot them." Her voice was detached, eyes glazed over.

"The dogs." Morgan clarified, leading JJ to a paramedic.

"Dammit. The house is clear. No sign of Y/N or Hankel." Hotch ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The worry was nearly overpowering, but it wouldn't help find you.

The sheriff approached, removing his hat. "A deputy two towns over gave directions to a man matching Hankel's description. He's headed for a hunting lodge."

Morgan nodded to Prentiss. "We'll check it out."

-

Your head was pounding. A vile scent reached your nose, causing your eyes to flicker open. You flinched at the closeness of the man in front of you.

"Tobias..." The name slipped out in a whisper.

"They're not here. It's just me now." He stated, calmer than you would've expected.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to portray a fake sense of calm.

"I'm Rafael." He pulled out a revolver, adding a single bullet to the six chambers.

"No. You don't have to do this." Your heart ached, fear gripping your body as he aimed the gun at you.

"It is my duty to enact God's will." He said, right before pulling the trigger.

-

Hotch pulled back into the driveway, leading Garcia into the house.

"His computer setup is in there. If there's even a hint of where they might've gone, I need you to find it." Hotch gestured to the back room.

Penelope nodded. Carrying her own computer bags, she followed Derek into the depths of the house.

"What've we got?" Hotch questioned those remaining around the table.

"He knew he could throw us off, pretend to be looking for a hunting lodge." Emily spoke quickly.

"We've got piles of information, journals, notebooks. We're still sifting through it all." JJ added, shirt still bloody from yesterday.

Just then, Reid rushed in from another room. "The walls in the bedroom, they are covered in the latin phrase 'honora patrem tuum', honor thy father."

"Garcia, look for anything you can find about his father." Hotch gave out orders, but his focus was elsewhere. What was happening to you?

"Over here!" Morgan called from outside.

The team ran around the house to see Morgan opening a cellar door. Nodding slightly, Hotch and Morgan made there way inside.

"Tobias Hankel, FBI." Morgan shouted, receiving no answer.

They quickly found the dead body of none other than Hankel's father. Even the new information did little to calm the worry brewing inside of Hotch.

-

"Confess your sins." He ordered.

"My sins? I don't have any sins." You did your best to hold back the tears, trying to figure out who you were talking to.

"Everyone has sins. Confess, and you will be forgiven." He stared you down, waiting for a response.

You simply shook your head, mouth slightly agape. The smell was getting to you. You couldn't think straight with the pain in your head.

"I- I don't know what-"

"YES YOU DO. CONFESS." He hit you, whipping your head to the left.

-

"Hotch, he took drugs to escape. Dilaudid cut with a psychedelic." Emily relayed the information her and JJ got from Tobias's sponsor.

"We've got something too. The dates in his journals don't add up. He was talking about his father as if he was alive months after he killed him."

"His father beat him, preached about sin." Emily replied, putting the pieces together alongside Hotch.

"Split personality. Profile the father. He could be the key to finding Y/N." Even just saying your name he felt his heart clench.

-

"Who are you?" You questioned him as soon as he walked through the door, trying to figure out who you were dealing with this time.

"Tobias." He moved about the cabin almost nervously.

"Who was here before?" You knew Rafael, but the other personality was a mystery.

"My father." Definitely the most violent. He was who you had to look out for. "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

Tobias looked over you newly forming bruises before pulling off his belt.

"No. No what are you doing?" You felt your heart rate increase as he wrapped the belt around your arm. You could barely register the words he was saying, something about escaping from the pain.

"Please. I don't want it. I'm fine." You begged, tears brimming your eyes. He ignored your pleas, injecting the drug into your bloodstream.

Despite how much you hated it, you felt the relief he was talking about. The pain was gone, even if just briefly. You thought about your time spent with Hotch. It didn't feel like long enough. You wanted more. You had so much you wanted to do with him.

"Aaron..." You mumbled his name between kisses. "They could see us." You did little to stop him, despite your words.

"We should tell them." He whispered against your mouth, holding you close. "They would be happy for us."

You sighed blissfully, forehead pressed against his. "Really? You know they've got a pool going to see when we'd finally get together. Who do you think had money on 4 months ago?" You laughed into his neck, pulling him closer.

"My bet's on Rossi. He knows us both too well." Aaron smiled, a full genuine smile.

"You're probably right, but just to make it interesting, I'm betting Reid. He's too observant not to have noticed." You squinted at the window, knowing Reid was staring at the closed blinds on the other side.

That earned a laugh, one you could feel in his chest pressed tightly to your own.

"I love you." He kissed your head, content to hold you for a little while longer.

"I love you too." You leaned ever farther into him. "We can tell them when we get back from this next case."

"Deal."

-

"Get in here!" Reid called from the computer room, pointing to a screen where you were being broadcast. You were handcuffed and tied to a chair, clearly beaten.

"Pick one to die." The voice of Tobias could be heard, despite him not being visible on the screen.

You shook your head, staring into the camera. You wanted to plead for Hotch to save you, but you knew it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need that on his conscience.

"Choose one, and I will free another."

You shook your head again, trying to think of a clue you could give the team. "I won't let you hunt them like a poacher."

"Now. Or I will kill them all." He threatened, lifting you from the ground.

"I'll pick who lives." You stuttered, breaths coming fast and short. "The right screen."

You were forced to watch as he turned off the camera, leaving the screens to show the heinous murders he was about to commit.

Suddenly, Rossi was talking to you through the screen. The sight of him nearly brought you to tears.

"Y/N. This isn't your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. We will find you, but I need you to be there when we do."

You knew exactly what he meant. You were already blaming yourself, despite Rossi's father like relationship with you, it was hard to believe him.

It did give you the strength to remember the team though. You needed to see them, all of them, again.

-

"He's back!" Morgan called everyone in to view the screens again.

"Confess your sins." They watched as he beat you.

You cried. You begged him to stop. You begged Tobias for help, but nothing worked.

Hotch felt his heart break even more with every word.

Suddenly, you were on the ground, still tied to the chair. You were seizing, Charles Hankel watching as it happened.

The screen went dark, causing Hotch to punch the desk.

"Dammit." He shouted. He didn't care if his worry was beginning to poke through the surface. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now.

"The timestamp." Emily's voice drew him out of his head. "There's only a few minutes between the time of death and when it was posted. He's got to be close to the crime scene."

Finally. Something that felt like progress.

-

They watched the screen as you appeared again.

"Choose one to die." It was Rafael this time.

"I can't. I can't do it." Your face betrayed every emotion you were feeling inside.

"Pick one." He stated again.

"Me. Kill me." You nearly begged.

"You said you weren't one of them. Your team has 7 other members. Choose one of them to die."

You shook your head, fear gripping you once again as he pulled out the revolver.

"Choose." He connected the gone to your forehead, resting it there.

"No." He pulled the trigger, watching as you flinched.

"Choose." You shook your head, tensing as he pulled the trigger again.

Hotch felt his heart in his stomach, internally begging you to just say a name. He couldn't watch you die, not like this.

"Choose." He pulled the trigger yet again at your silence.

"I won't do it." You held firm, knowing you had limited chances.

"Choose one to die."

You opened your mouth, panting as an idea came to you.

"I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Your heart ached even saying it, but you needed to give him a clue. "He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone. He'd go to his grave knowing he was wrong." You winced internally, trying not to give away your plan.

Hotch left the room, trying to understand your words. The two of you had just argued about the definition of classic narcissism.

"I think you're wrong." You laughed at his amused expression.

"Yeah? Or do you just like making me exasperated?" He questioned your motives, pulling you closer as you laid in bed together.

"Maybe a little bit of both." You shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Promise me something?" You asked, a nervous expression on your face.

"What?" He looked at you with so much concern, you felt your heart beat a little faster.

"If... If I die, you can't blame yourself." He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept going. "I know you Aaron. You'd take it to grave thinking it was your fault. I can't let you do that. Not when I know you blame yourself for Haley's death." You felt your heart break for him and the pain he had been through. "Promise me." You were nearly begging.

"I promise." He whispered, his throat tight at the idea of losing you.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Rossi's voice.

"Hotch, you know Y/N didn't mean any of that." Rossi tried gently, unsure of how Hotch was coping with your situation.

"I'm not a narcissist. What's my worst quality?" He looked at the apprehensive looks everyone was giving him. "I'll start, I have no sense of humor."

He nodded along as his team listed his faults.

"None of you said I ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Y/N and I just argued about the definition of classic narcissism." He paced, trying to put it together. "I'd take it to my grave... Grave was a hint."

"What? How do you know?" Reid shook his head, trying to understand the logic.

"I made a promise. It's a long story." He shook his head, trying to clear the memory so he could focus. "Y/N knew I would remember it."

"A cemetary. It's got to be a cemetary." Morgan added.

"No cemeteries on the map." Garcia was typing away on the computer.

"Like a poacher." Reid whispered, staring at the screen.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him, eyes pleading for an answer.

"That's what Y/N said in the first video. 'I won't let you hunt them like a poacher.'" He said it louder, more excited than before.

"Garcia, any reports of poaching in the area?" Hotch asked, the idea of finding you causing hope to erupt in his chest.

"Yes, at Marshall Parrish... and there's a cemetery on the grounds." She gave them the address, watching as they ran out to the SUVs.

-

"I'm sorry." Tobias said it so softly, you were almost certain you didn't hear it at all.

"Wh- why?" Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

"He'll win. In the end, he always does." He rose from the crouched position, slowly injecting you with more drugs.

"Hotch!" You screamed, feeling arms restraining you from behind.

You watched as he went into the hostage situation, unarmed and without a vest.

"Derek. Let me go!" You struggled in his grasp, straining to get free.

"There's nothing you can do, he's already inside." He stated the truth, although it did little to calm your nerves.

You settled down, throat tight with worry. You bit your lip, eyes flitting between the door and windows. You just needed a sign, anything to say he was alright.

The sound of a gun firing stunned you. You were frozen in place, fear consuming you. You had just told him you loved him for the first time this morning. What if you never get to say it again? What if that's all the time you got.

You stared in horror as everyone ran toward the house, only to freeze when a voice shouted everything was fine.

"It's fine." He huffed, carrying the small child out of the house toward a waiting EMT. "Baxter is dead."

"Aaron..." You whispered the name, realizing how powerless you felt when he was in danger. The two of you made eye contact across the yard, a reassuring look in his eye.

"Aaron..." You whispered, blinking rapidly as you slowly came to.

"What about Aaron." Charles. Tobias's dad was back.

"I couldn't stop him. I couldn't keep him safe." You muttered to yourself, not fully understanding the situation.

"Is that a confession?" He asked, voice hard.

"Yes." It was more of a breath of air than a word, but it was all he needed to condemn you.

He unlocked your handcuffs, forcing a shovel into your newly freed arms before dragging you outside.

"Dig." he instructed plainly, watching over you as stray tears wet the ground beneath you.

-

"Clear." Morgan called from one side of the shed.

"Clear" Hotch replied from the other. With the whole team in the small space, it wasn't exactly necessary but it was habit.

Hotch could feel his nerves picking up again as he realized this meant you were still with Tobias. He paced back and forth, feeling powerless.

"Spread out. They have to be on foot." He left without waiting for a response, turning left with JJ to look for you.

-

You did your best to stall, but Charles wasn't the most patient.

"Dig faster."

"I'm trying. I'm trying." You whimpered, movements speeding up ever so slightly. The massive knife in his hands causing your own to shake.

"You're weak. Move." He huffed, throwing his jacket to the ground before ripping the shovel from your hands.

A flash of light in the trees caught your eye. Flashlights. Your team. Aaron.

Your eyes flickered between the man in front of you and the trees, causing him to turn.

You took the split second he wasn't looking to grab the gun from his jacket, swiftly aiming it as he turned back to you knife raised.

"Only one bullet in that gun." He lunged for you, falling backwards after you pulled the trigger.

You dropped the gun, quickly tossing the knife away.

"Tobias?" You cried, moving back toward him.

"You killed me." He seemed surprised, but grateful at the same time.

You felt the tears pouring down your face as you apologized.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You grabbed his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes as he asked one final question.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?"

You barely registered the arms around you, pulling you to your feet. You couldn't take your eyes off of Tobias. He wasn't the one who hurt you. He helped you, or at least tried.

"I killed him." Your breathing picked up, vision blurring.

"Y/N, look at me." You turned to the voice, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

"Aaron?" You took a stuttering breath, trying to make sure this was real.

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." His words were just as reassuring to himself as they were to you. You caught JJ's eye over Hotch's shoulder, quickly moving to hug her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should've-" You cut her off.

"None of this was your fault. It was my idea to split up. I'm so sorry." You cried into her shoulder, knowing how guilty she must've felt.

She hugged you back, tears brimming her own eyes at seeing you alive again.

She lead you to the EMT, not commenting on the look you threw over your shoulder at Aaron. He quickly followed you to the ambulance. JJ left you to talk to Hotch, who stayed beside you the entire time the medics looked you over.

"I didn't mean it." You said when you were finally alone, sitting between the open doors of the ambulance.

"What?" Aaron questioned, his mind not following your own train of thought.

"When... When I had to choose. I didn't mean any of it." You could feel the tears coming, but this time you did nothing to hold them back.

"I know. I knew the whole time." You brushed your tears away, looking you in the eye. "I love you so much." He whispered, his own eyes feeling watery.

"I love you too." You leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. You couldn't help but look over at the team, all of whom quickly pretended not to be watching. You huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think they're going to have some questions." Hotch smiled, glad to see you happy even if just for a second.

"After this case, right?" You looked back at him, confirming you still wanted to share your relationship with the team.

"Deal." He smiled, arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer.

-

You couldn't help but bring it up on the jet ride home.

"So, who had money on four months ago?" You questioned, tucked into Aaron's side on the couch.

"What?" Emily raised a brow at your sudden statement.

"That's when we started dating." You grinned at her shocked expression.

"Dammit Reid." Morgan huffed, handing over the money.

"Don't forget Rossi!" Reid high fived the older man, the two grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Looks like we were both right." Hotch smiled into your hair, trying to hide his laugh.

"Yeah. We make a pretty good team." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"I love you." He murmured, face still in your hair. You turned your face into his chest before responding.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[bakugosbratx]

Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.

Words: 2,896

A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works

Vegas.

Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.

Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.

“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.

“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.

“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”

You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.

“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.

These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.

Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.

The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.

A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.

“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.

“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.

Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.

Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.

“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”

Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.

“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.

You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.

Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.

You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.

“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.

“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”

“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”

“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.

“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”

Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.

You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.

“I hate you.” You sniveled.

“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.

“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.

Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”

You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.

“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.

You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.

Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”

Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.

“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”

You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.

Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.

“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”

“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.

Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.

“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.

“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.

Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.

“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.

You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.

“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.

“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”

“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”

Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.

“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.

Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.

“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”

Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.

“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.

Just like always, baby eyes.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[maddiwrites]

Let Me Go

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: This was requested! Y/N still lives with the Cameron’s following the death of her brother, but she’s being held there against her will. After many failed escape attempts, Y/N finally gets out of Figure Eight, but she’s far from safe. (The request was long so I’m going to link it here so you can see the full summary of what anon wanted!)

Note: I’m sorry this took so long to get out!!! I literally had half of it written and then it all deleted and I’m so upset because my first attempt at writing it was better but oh well. I hope you like it. Again, sorry for the long wait!

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: MENTIONS OF DRUG ABUSE, CHILD NEGLECT, GUN VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU. PLEASE. SUICIDE HOTLINE: 800-273-8255

Masterlist

You weren’t always like this - sitting up in your unmade bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you like you could see through it, unshowered, trembling from your shoulders down to your toes, feeling empty from the inside out. 

You forget what it’s like to be free. Following the death of your brother, you’ve been trapped like a rat in a cage. Figure Eight is no longer the luxurious part of the island to you. It’s filled with lies, manipulation, secrets, murder. 

You’re still living at the Cameron’s. No, not living. Surviving. Ward refused to give his guardianship of you up. Some people wondered why - why would Ward want to live with the sister of a murderer? Yeah, that’s what they thought - that your brother killed Sheriff Peterkin and tried to kill Ward too. But you knew why.

Ward no longer treats you like a member of his family. He has you locked in your designated room on the third floor that’s basically only used as an attic and storage area. Your own personal prison. Because you know what he did - not only to your brother and his daughter but to your dad. 

You felt like you were losing grasps of reality. You only knew fall was approaching because you could hear Wheezy talking about it to Rose outside your door. You guess the time of day by the sunlight through your window and the meals brought to your room. 

Of course there have been times you tried to escape. You managed to run away a few times. The first time, you went straight to the police station and tried telling them that Ward was keeping you trapped in his home. Of course they didn’t believe you. Instead, they called Ward to come pick you up. He told the police that you’ve been experiencing delusions since the death of your brother. Without a second thought, they believed him and ignored your cries for help completely. The second time, you tried going to Kie’s, but the police found you first and brought you back to Ward’s now that they think you’re going through some kind of mental breakdown. 

By now, you’re exhausted. You’re tired of fighting and arguing and screaming. You feel empty inside, craving some sort of release or embrace of comfort. You haven’t seen your Pogues in weeks, maybe months. You wonder if they still think about you. Do they blame you for leaving John B to go off by himself with Sarah? Do they hate you?

Not only is living inside an enclosed box hard enough, but dealing with the loss of your brother, friend, and father, is killing you inside. You can’t help but feel guilty that you weren’t with them. You and your brother were supposed to be partners in crime and you totally let him go off on his own. You feel like you abandoned him and that keeps you up at night. 

Since your ways of coping are limited, you’re not proud to say you found an unhealthy way of relieving your pain. 

When you were first locked up, you would scream and kick the door that hid you from the rest of the world, begging for anyone in the house to let you go. Never did it work, but one time Rafe got extremely fed up and raced upstairs to make you shut up. You didn’t know it, but Rafe was on the verge of a breakdown himself. His dad complete shut him out as he tried to fix the damage he caused. He assumed Sarah was dead. And Barry basically owned him, making him do all his dirty work. Maybe he deserved it, but he didn’t live a luxurious life either despite living in Figure Eight.

You took a couple steps back when you heard heavy footsteps approaching your door. Rafe quickly undid the locks and barged in so fast that he almost knocked you down. 

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe was breathing hard and quickly getting red in the face. You stumbled backwards, suddenly afraid of being alone with him. 

You sniffled. “I need to get out of here.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Please, Rafe. You got to get me out of here. Please!” You never thought you’d be here, begging Rafe of all people for help. Yet here you were. With no other choices left.

Rafe paced the room and raked his fingers through his hair. “You do realize you're not the only one going through something, right?”

You swallowed back your tears and scoffed at the Kook in front of you. “Seriously? Your family is keeping me locked in here like some kind of zoo animal! My brother is dead -”

“Sarah is too!”

“But that’s not my fault!” You screamed. You pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. “That’s yours!” Rafe froze and turned to look at you. You didn’t know where you grew the balls to keep going but you did. “I know what you did. I know what your dad is trying to cover up. And he’s using my brother to do it.” You saw Rafe’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “Why do you think your dad is keeping me locked in here?”

“Shit,” Rafe cursed. Now he knew why his dad gave him strict instructions to never come up to your room. He started shaking his his head and shaking in his skin. “I didn’t mean to - I - I - it happened so fast.”

You could go on and on about how Rafe would never be able to dig himself out of this hole. How he will never be able to convince you that he wasn’t guilty. But you didn’t. Because he’s the only one who could help you.

“Rafe, please,” You begged. “I won’t say anything. I just need to get out of here.”

Rafe sniffled back his own tears and fears and looked out the one window that looked out into the backyard of his home. He couldn’t let you go. He knew it was selfish, but he had to save himself. 

“I can’t,” Rafe said.

A new wave of tears hit you and you felt defeated. You fell back on your bed and cried into your hands, hunched over above your knees. 

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, but his apology was as empty as you feel. 

“Just go,” You rubbed your eyes hard enough to see stars. 

You hear something light hit the bed next to you. “I know it’s not much. But this helps me get through all this messed up shit.”

When you didn’t look at him or whatever he gave you, he took that as a hint to leave and quietly left the room. You listened to each lock being fastened again, each one leaving a crack in your heart. 

Rafe offered you something you should have never taken. A small baggie filled with fine white powder. You should have never even considered it. Drugs were never your thing. You wouldn’t even smoke with JJ when he offered a hit of whatever he was smoking. But the idea of anything taking your pain away enticed you.

And that’s how you ended up here. Broken, alone, and craving something only Rafe could supply you with. Literally. He came around every so often, sliding a small baggie under the door for you. It was the closest thing you and Rafe had to a friendship. 

Today was particularly a bad day. It was dark and rainy outside and you remembered John B’s birthday should be quickly approaching. You missed him. God, did you miss him. You would do anything to hear his voice again or steal his clothes or go surfing in the ocean with him. 

You trudged out of bed towards your dresser that held a faint line of coke left over from yesterday. With a one dollar bill, you sniffed the rest of it up your nose and blinked back the sting of tears that pricked your eyes after you did it. A rush of energy sparked up your body, through your toes and up to your head. You immediately felt lighter and that the world was spinning a little faster. But with that rush came a surge of emotions. You went from being sad to being angry real fast. 

You hated Ward. You hated Shoupe. You hated this house.  You hated Kooks. You hated yourself. You hated everything about the Outer banks. You just wanted to leave. 

You find the closest thing to you, a small makeup mirror, and smash it against one of the locks on the door. You’ve done this hundreds of times and by now the door was scratched and bruised from your abuse, but you didn’t care. You didn’t feel the glass of the mirror slice into your skin as you continued to bang it on the metal lock. You didn’t care if Ward and the others heard you throwing another temper tantrum. You just wanted out.

When you felt the lock stumble to the side of the door, you froze in your place. You stared at the broken lock, wondering if this was all a dream or a hallucination from your high. “No fucking way,” You mumbled. You looked down at the door knob and repeated the same movements until the handle completely fell off and clattered to the floor. 

You dropped the mirror and stuck two fingers through the hole in the door where the door knob use to be. While holding your breath, you slowly pulled the door open and couldn’t believe when it moved without any hiccup. 

You never thought that you would get this far, and now that you were here, you didn’t know what to do. You felt scared. Cautiously, you stuck your head out to make sure no one was in the hallway. When the coast was clear, you tip toed throughout the house, listening to the eery silence that filled it. No one was home. 

When you passed Rafe’s room, you stopped. You were out of supply and you needed more. Rafe owed you anyway, you told yourself. So you ransacked his room. Found about four more small baggies and stuffed them in your pocket before leaving.

As you walk through the halls, you pass Ward’s office and paused. It was open and unlocked. Even before all this shit happened, you never remember it being this way. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the adrenaline from another escape attempt or maybe it was the cocaine, but you walked yourself into that office and looked around. 

You cursed at all the accomplishments hanging on his wall, the trophies, and expensive relics of random shit. His desk was neat and orderly despite the major crime he was trying to cover up. You sat yourself in his chair, trying to imagine what it felt like to be him. Motherfucker probably felt like a king. 

You went through his drawers, thumbing through random files you had no business looking through - most of it work related stuff and banking information. You tucked that one in your pocket for later. 

Then you hear something thump against the drawer when you pull it out. A revolver. Small and silver. Cold against your fingertips. You breath hitched as you brought it up to your face. It felt like you were holding a bomb. An object that could change your life forever. Another fresh set of tears threatened to roll down your face but you shook them away. No. No more being sad. 

You shut the drawer hard and walked out with a couple new items in your possession.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Pogues were spending another dreary day at The Wreck. The September sun might be out, but their spirits were down. Two of their best friends are dead and the other is trapped with two murderers. They were scared for you and have tried everything to get you back. They tried talking to the cops, they tried breaking her out. But each times the cops got in the way. They were running out of hope. At this point, they didn’t even know if they would ever see you again. They just hoped you were okay. They knew you tried escaping a few times and prayed that you would eventually get yourself out of there soon.

“JJ, you gotta eat,” Kie sighed as she watched JJ play with the fries in front of him. If anyone was handing it the worst, it was JJ. Both John B and Y/N were his best friends first. Hell, he was in love with Y/N. Had been since the sixth grade. One of his biggest regrets is that he never told you. Now he didn’t know if he ever would. 

“’M not hungry,” JJ mumbled. 

The door above the restaurant entrance rang as a couple of police officers walked in for their lunch break. The group of three glared at them as they walked in with their cocky stride and their hand resting on their tasers and guns as if everyone should be scared of them. 

“Fucking cops can’t do their goddamn job,” JJ sat back in his seat and flicked one of his fries down on the table. He hated them. More than he ever had. He couldn’t believe these people took an oath to protect this county. Fucking cowards, all of them. 

“Fucking assholes,” Kie said and watched her father approach them with a friendly smile. 

Pope snapped up when an idea popped into his head. “Sarah’s sister.”

“What?” Kie’s brows furrowed. 

“School starts next week,” Pope explained. “She’s starting high school, right? What if you tried talking to her? Maybe you can -”

Pope paused when he heard the sound of the police radios echoing off the walls from their belts. 

“Code10-92. Runaway teen last reported on Baker’s Street. Proceed with caution. Last seen wearing black sports shorts and a white tank. Suspect may be armed and dangerous.”

JJ’s head snapped back to his friends with his brows pinched together. Could this be you? Could you have made it out again? But what did armed and dangerous mean? That didn’t sound like you.

Shoupe radioed back to the station. “On our way.”

The officers dropped ten dollars in the tip jar before charging out the door to go to their vehicles. 

“We gotta go,” JJ stood up first and stuffed his phone and keys into his pocket. The other two nod and follow him out the door. If that call was about you, they wanted to find you before the cops did. “Okay. Kie, go home. She tried going to your house last time. Maybe she’ll try that again. Pope, go to Heyward’s. She trusts your dad. She might try to find him for help.”

“Where are you going to go?” Pope asked. 

“Everywhere else.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trudged through your old home with heavy feet. Nothing in there felt familiar to you - like it belonged to you in another life time. You first went to your room and stared at the girl in the mirror. You didn’t recognize her. Bones sticking out of your skin, dark bags under the eyes, and cracked lips and dry skin. 

Without thinking, you took the gun that’s still in your hand and smashed it against the glass, shattering it all around you. 

Ignoring the stinging in your hands from the shallow cuts on your skin, you moved on to the next room. Your brother’s room. It looked like a tornado made its way through here. Everything was tossed and turned from the police and FBI ransacking it during their search for John B. Nothing felt like it was John B’s anymore. Nothing felt private. And that pissed you off. 

Next you went to your dad’s office, somewhere you haven’t been since you found the compass. Even now, it felt like you weren’t supposed to be in here. If you believed in an afterlife, you would think your dad would be shaking his head at you. 

The office looked like John B’s room did. Whatever belonged to your dad now belonged to the state. The only things left were random files and belongings the police didn’t find of importance. But they were important to you. 

The first thing you found was a picture in a cracked frame of you, your dad, and your brother from when you were ten. Your dad was holding both of you as you blew out the candles on a birthday cake. Looking at the picture, you felt your heart being shredded apart. The picture only brought back pain and grief. You wanted that happiness back that ten year old you portrayed in that picture. But you can’t have it. Ever again.

A cry ripped through your throat as you chucked the picture across the room. From there, you went on a rampage, throwing and kicking anything that was in your way. You took one of the baggies out of your pocket and dumped it on the desk in front of you. Without any precision, you fixed the lines up with your finger and took a long whiff. You gripped the roots of your hair and tugged as you sobbed loudly and felt one of the biggest headaches explode in your brain. 

You paced back and forth in the office with the gun held in your shaky hands. You were mumbling to yourself about your options and how horrible of a sister and daughter you were for leaving your family behind. You wanted to see them. You wanted to be with them and prove to them you never meant to abandon them. 

You didn’t hear the door to the Chateau open or the sound of footsteps following your cries. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, delicate voice that you turned around and stared at your best friend with wide eyes and a startled expression. 

“Y/N...” JJ breathed out. He didn’t see the gun yet. He just saw you, crying and broken and not looking like the girl he knew only a few months ago. 

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t recognize your voice either. Hoarsed and scared. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“The cops are looking for you! Okay? We need to get you out of here!”

“I’m not leaving!”

“What?” JJ looked at you like you grew two heads. “What are you talking about. We -”

“No! I said I’m not leaving! Agh!” Your hands flew up to your pulsating head and gripped at your hair again. The pounding in your head was excruciating and wouldn’t go away. Between the cocaine, your cries, and the exhaustion, you didn’t think it would ever go away. 

That’s when JJ saw the gun and took a shocking step back. His hands immediately flew up in surrender and he gulped down his nerves. Now he knew why the cops had called you armed and dangerous. Probably because Ward reported a stolen gun. JJ never knew you to be a violent person. It wasn’t in you. You couldn’t even hurt a fly. Which meant you didn’t steal this gun to hurt someone else. But probably...

Then his eyes flickered to the desk where he saw the reside of white powder next to an empty baggie. Now he was petrified because he didn’t know how to get through to you - if he even could get through to you.

“Y/N, baby. Put the gun down.”

“No,” You shook you head. “No, no, no. I need to see them. I need to see my dad and John B!”

“Y/n...”

“I should’ve gone with them. I should’ve - I - I didn’t mean to leave. I’m so-sorry, John B. I’m so sorry.” You were a mess. Tears and snot and running all over your red and puffy face. 

JJ kept looking between you and the gun. His only comfort was that he knew you didn’t know how to use it. You wouldn’t even touch the one he stole from Scooter Grubs. But that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen.

“I can’t do it anymore,” You continued. “I can’t go back there. I won’t. I won’t. I just want to see my dad.”

JJ took a hesitant step closer to you and nodded his head, keeping his hands up. “Okay. Okay. What if I helped you see your dad?”

“H-How?” You hiccuped. JJ didn’t know where he was going with this. He just knew he had to get that gun out of your hand. He took another step closer to you, but this one made you jump back. “No! No! Stay away!”

“Okay, okay!” JJ yelled back at you. “Hey. I’m here to help you, okay? Whatever you want to do.”

“I want to see them. I want to say sorry. I - I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, they’re not mad at you-”

“I’m sorry, daddy, I -”

With you distracted, JJ took the opportunity to run at you and tackle you to the ground. He ignored the pang in his heart when he heard you cry harder, wondering if he hurt you, but he cared more about keeping you alive. He wrestled the gun out of your hands and quickly emptied the cartridge. He chucked the multiple pieces across the room and wrapped himself around your crumpled body.

“No! No!” You shrieked in JJ’s shoulder and gripped onto his shirt for dear life. “Please! Let me go!” 

JJ held on to your crumbling body as you wracked with sobs. Exhaustion quickly took over you as the adrenaline slowly vanished out of your system. Your throat was on fire from all the crying and the screaming. Your chest felt empty and your lungs heavy. All you wanted was to close your eyes and never open them again.

JJ couldn’t hold back his own silent tears as they ran down his cheeks. He hated seeing you like this. And he hated even more that he didn’t know how to help you.

“It’s going to be okay,” He said as he brushed the hair out of your face. He kissed the top of your head with his soft lips and kept mumbling into your head. “You’re going to be okay. I’m never leaving your side again. It’s going to be okay.”

He didn’t know if he was trying to convince you or himself. He jus knew he had to make you believe it.

About ten minutes later, he felt your body relax against his. When he found you fast asleep, he pulled out his phone and texted Kie to pick the two of you up. 

Until Kie got there, he stared at the delicate skin on your face with such admiration. Rage bubbled through this veins as the ideas of what you possibly went through in the that hell hole in Figure Eight. 

He knew it was going to be a long road to recovery. He knew there was a lot of fixing that needed to be done. But he made a promise that he will never let you out of his sights again. Because today was a close call. And he never wanted you to be that close to death ever again.