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d1stalker · 28 days

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The Feeling's Mutual | Part Three

Summary: At last, you're about to face whatever—or whoever—is behind all this chaos, but what you uncover will haunt you, and Logan's connection to it makes you realize that you’re only a piece in someone else’s game

PART ONE | PART TWO | FINAL PART

Warnings: canon-level violence, manipulation, soft moments, plot-twist WC: 7.9k - MASTERLIST

----

Well, this is it.

The day you and Logan have decided on to investigate the location has come. Standing side-by-side, you both peer down at the old rusted metal grate beneath your feet. It creaks ominously under your combined weight, the sound echoing through the empty lot.

You can’t help the grimace that crosses your face as you take a step closer to the edge. "Please tell me this isn’t a sewer," you mutter, the disgust in your voice impossible to hide.

Logan shoots you a sideways glance, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Not a sewer," he grumbles. "And even if it was, we got a job to do. Now shut up and focus."

"Just saying," you mumble under your breath, rolling your eyes. "If we're about to wade through god-knows-what, I might need a minute to mentally prepare."

Your remark is ignored as he crouches down to grip the edge of the grate. With a grunt of effort, he lifts it up, revealing a gaping hole that descends into darkness. A musty, stale smell wafts up from below, and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose in distaste. Already securing the grate to the side so it won’t fall back into place, he straightens up and gives you a pointed look. "You ready?".

"Yeah," you reply, bracing yourself, and trying to sound more confident than you feel. "Let’s get this over with."

Logan gives a short nod before pulling out a flashlight from his belt, clicking it on. The beam of light cuts through the darkness below, revealing a rusty ladder bolted to the side of the tunnel. The metal rungs look old and worn, covered in grime and dust, but they seem sturdy enough. Without hesitation, hesteps forward, testing the ladder with one hand before starting his descent.

You watch as he climbs down. The tunnel seems to swallow him whole, and soon all you can see is the faint glow of his flashlight moving deeper into the darkness.

"Come on," his voice echoes up from below, gruff but encouraging.

You take one last look at the dim, overcast sky above before gripping the cold metal of the ladder and starting down after him. The further you descend, the colder and damper the air becomes, clinging to your skin like a shroud. The sound of your own breathing is unnervingly loud in the confined space, and the occasional drip of water from above only adds to the uncanny atmosphere.

As your feet finally touch solid ground, you let out a small breath of relief, but the oppressive darkness around you quickly snuffs out any sense of comfort. The tunnel is narrow, the walls slick with moisture, and the air smells of damp earth and rusted metal.

Logan’s flashlight beam cuts through the abyss, revealing a long, empty passageway stretching out before you. The walls are lined with old pipes and cables, some of which look like they haven’t been used in decades. The faint hum of electricity buzzes in the background, the only sign that this place might still be connected to the world above.

"Isn’t this just cozy," you say sarcastically, as you click on your own flashlight, adding a second beam of light to murky gloom.

He shoots you a look, like he’s trying to keep you calm. "Ain’t nobody enjoyin’ this," he says. "But we’ve got to check it out. Could be nothin’, or it could be somethin’ we need to deal with."

You hum, forcing yourself to focus. The truth is, you have no idea what’s down there—whether it’s just an abandoned tunnel or something more sinister. That uncertainty gnaws at you, making each step feel heavier than the last. You remind yourself that Logan wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think it was important. He’s got a sense for these things, a gut feeling that’s saved both your asses more than once.

"Stay sharp," he says, his voice a low rumble. "There could be traps set up, or worse—mutants under control waitin' for us."

The tunnel seems to go on forever, each step echoing back to you like a warning. The beam of your flashlight dances across the uneven floor, picking out old, broken pipes, patches of moss, and the occasional rat scurrying away into the darkness. The air gets cooler the further you go, the damp chill seeping into your bones.

"How far do you think this goes?" you whisper.

"Hard to say," he replies, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "But we’ll know when we’re gettin’ close. Trust me."

Even though you can’t see in the dark,you nod. The two of you move cautiously down the tunnel, the only light coming from your flashlights. Every creak, every drip, every distant clank of metal sets your nerves on edge. It’s all so oppressive, as if the walls themselves are closing in on you, the weight of the earth pressing down from above.

"Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light, but you feel genuine fear.

Logan doesn’t miss a beat. "All the damn time," he grunts, his eyes flicking to every shadow, every dark corner. "Keep your head in the game, Knifey. We ain’t alone down here."

His steps slow ahead as you approach a corner where the tunnel bends sharply to the left. He holds up a hand, signaling you to stop as he slowly walks forward, checking to see if there is anything hiding. You freeze in place, your heart pounding in your ears as you listen. For a moment, the only sounds are the steady drip of water and the faint rustling of something—probably a rat—somewhere in the dark.

When you round the bend, the passage suddenly opens up into a larger chamber, the walls lined with more old, rusted equipment. The floor is uneven, slick with dampness, and the space feels almost too large, as if it’s swallowing the sound of your footsteps entirely.

"Feels like a setup," you whisper, your eyes darting around the chamber.

He hums grimly, his senses on high alert. "We’ll move fast, hit hard if we need to."

You both move cautiously into the center of the chamber, your flashlights sweeping the room. The emptiness is unsettling, the silence even more so. There’s no sign of life, no indication that anyone—or anything—has been here recently.

Then, in the far corner of the room, your flashlight catches something—a small metal door, half hidden behind a stack of old crates. It’s slightly ajar, just enough to let a sliver of darkness leak through.

"That’s gotta be it," you say.

"Stay behind me," he orders.

Nodding, you follow close as he approaches the door. The tension is palpable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware. The closer you get, the more you can feel it—the oppressive presence that seems to emanate from behind that door, like a thick, invisible fog.

He reaches out, pushing the door open with a creak that echoes through the chamber. The darkness inside is absolute, swallowing the beam of your flashlights like a black hole. You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your instincts screaming at you that something isn’t right.

The room beyond is large and dimly lit, the walls lined with screens displaying endless streams of data, numbers, and images flashing by in rapid succession. In the center of the room, a figure stands with their back to you, seemingly engrossed in their work.

As Logan steps forward, you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, a stiffness that mirrors your own. His body is coiled tight, muscles flexing beneath his skin, ready to spring into action at any moment. His claws slide out slowly, gleaming dangerously in the low light. With a menacing growl, he commands, "Turn around."

The figure doesn’t react immediately, their movements unhurried, almost casual. Then, slowly, they turn to face you, and the shadows reveal a woman with sharp, severe features. Her eyes are frosty, cunning, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in them that sends a shiver down your spine. When her eyes settle on the man next to you, a cruel smile spreads across her lips.

"Hello, Wolverine," she purrs, her voice dripping with venom. There’s a twisted pleasure in the way she speaks his name, as if savouring every syllable.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and something something haunting and painful crosses his face. "Shadowmind," he spits, full of contempt and hatred. The name rolls off his tongue like a curse, heavy with the weight of what must be their shared history.

Your gaze snaps to him, practically breaking your neck as you turn your head. Your heart pounding in your chest, and you can feel the tension in the room thickening, almost suffocating. "You know her?" you whisper, desperate for understanding.

He nods, though his eyes never leave the woman, the intensity of his gaze enough to burn through steel. "Yeah," he mutters. "She was one of the experiments in Weapon X. Thought I killed her."

Shadowmind’s smile widens, her features gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You almost did," she replies bitterly, her tone laced with fury and twisted pride. "But you didn’t quite finish the job, did you, Wolvie? You left me broken, traumatized… but not dead. And now, I’m going to make sure you regret that."

His claws twitch, his hands flexing with the barely contained fury boiling just beneath the surface. "So all of this—sending those mutants after humans, after us—it was all to get to me?"

She nods slowly, the smile never fading from her lips as her gaze shifts to you, her eyes raking over you like a predatory its prey. "At first, yes," she confesses, almost conversationally, as if they’re discussing the weather. "I wanted to draw you out, make you suffer. I thought having mutants wreak havoc on people would get your attention. But then…" She trails off, her eyes lighting up with a twisted joy as a manic cackle bursts from her throat, bouncing off the walls of the chamber. "Then she fought back and killed them! Your little friend here is a mutant—and a powerful one. She made my job so much easier.”

You felt like you had just been bitch-slapped by the biggest bitch of all time. All of the attacks, all of the deaths—they weren’t just random acts of violence. Yes, you acted in self defence, but you didn’t know they were being controlled. You didn’t know that you were a mutant. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have killed them. Guilt starts crawling up your throat—you might throw up.

"You twisted them," Logan seethes dangerously, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. His eyes burn with a rage that’s barely held in check, the kind of anger that promises violence. "You twisted those mutants’ minds just to get at me. Made them your fucking pawns.”

Shadowmind shrugs, the gesture so nonchalant it scares you. "I did what I had to," she says cooly, while bringing her hand up to her face as she looks at her nails. "You took everything from me, Wolvie. My life, my sanity… now it’s time for you to lose something."

Then, you scream.

It’s a raw, painful sound that scratches your throat as it crawls up and out of your mouth. Your mind feels like it is being split in two, the agony so intense that you can’t even think. Your hands fly to your head, clutching it as if you can physically hold yourself together. The flashlight slips from your fingers, clattering to the ground with a hollow, clanking sound that echoes in the room. Your vision blurs, the world around you spinning as you struggle to stay upright.

Logan’s head whips toward yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in his eyes you’ve never seen before—terror. Pure, unfiltered terror etched into his features, cutting through the usual stoic mask he wears. "Fight it!" he shouts, his voice sharp, urgent, but it feels distant, like he’s speaking from the end of a long tunnel. "Don’t let her take control!"

You try to obey, to resist the overwhelming force pressing down on your mind, but it’s like trying to swim against a riptide. Your limbs betray you, moving without your consent, and you can only feel horror wash over you as your hand reaches for the blade hidden in the side of your boot. Your fingers close around the hilt, the metal cold and familiar, but the ease with which you lift it feels wrong—alien.

"Logan, I—" You choke out, desperately trying to warn him, but the words come out strangled, distorted by the crushing weight of Shadowmind’s influence. The connection between your mind and body is fraying, slipping away.

Then it happens. Her grip tightens around your consciousness, squeezing until everything goes black. The world around you dissolves into a dark, endless void where the only sound is the incessant whispering of voices, all chanting the same sinister command: Kill him. Destroy him. Hurt him.

You can’t think. You can’t see. It’s like you’re drowning in a sea of dark, suffocating orders, your own thoughts buried beneath the onslaught of the woman’s will. The weapon in your hand feels heavy, but it’s not your hand anymore—it’s hers. Your body is no longer your own.

"Fight it!" A voice tries to cut through the fog, but it’s distant, muffled, like he’s shouting at you from underwater. It’s too far away, too weak compared to the relentless chorus in your head. Kill. Hurt. Destroy.

Without conscious thought, your body moves. The lava-like energy surges through your veins, your hands glowing an intense, fiery orange, the heat building until it feels like you just stuck your hand in a volcano. You lunge at Logan, the blade slashing through the air with a ferocity that isn’t yours.

He barely dodges the strike, his claws moving as he counters your attack. "Push back, don’t let her in!" he yells desperately as he blocks another of your strikes, the force behind it sending him staggering back a few metrs. But you can’t hear him—not really.

Your powers flare uncontrollably, the heat in your hands intensifying until it feels like your skin is about to burst into flames. A scream that’s more Shadowmind’s than your own tears from your throat, and you swing your fist. The molten energy collides with his claws, heating through the adamantium like it’s nothing. He grunts in pain but doesn’t back down. Instead, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you out of the mental prison you’re trapped in.

"Come on, Knifey! I know you’re in there!" His voice is fervent, pleading.

"Poor little Wolverine. Can’t even protect your little friend?” Shadowmind’s tyrannical laughter echoes through your thoughts. “She’s mine now. You can’t save her. Just like you couldn’t kill me.”

He grits his teeth, his muscles straining, hands melting, as he tries to hold back the power surging through you. But the voices won’t let you stop. They won’t let you think. You’re just a puppet on strings, forced to do this woman’s bidding. You lash out with your other hand, the blade slicing across Logan’s side, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but refuses to let go, his grip on your wrist tightening as he tries to bring you back to yourself.

"I know you can break free!" Logan shouts, his voice cracking with emotion. "You’re stronger than her!"

Shadowmind’s grip is ironclad, her control absolute. The whispering in your head grow louder, more frantic. Kill him. Hurt him. Finish him. You wrench your arm free from Logan’s grasp and drive your fist into his stomach, pushing him back against the wall.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall. He fights back with everything he has, his claws slashing through the air as he tries to subdue you without killing you. It’s no use—neither of you can die, and she knows it. She’s watching the two of you tear each other apart, a smile on her lips like she’s enjoying a show.

"You can’t stop it, Logan," She taunts. “You’re just delaying the inevitable."

His eyes flash in desperation as he roars in frustration, dodging another one of your attacks before grabbing you by the shoulders. "Fight it, damn it! " he shouts, shaking you. "Don’t let her win!"

But you just can’t. It’s impossible. The sounds—the whispers—block out everything, leaving you with nothing but the burning need to obey. You slam your fist into the clawed mutant’s side again.

"Come back to me!" he yells. "Come back to me!"

To shut him up, your hands grab him by the back of the neck and, with all your strength, you slam his head against the concrete wall. The impact is sickening, the sound of bone hitting stone reverberating through the chamber.

Logan’s body goes limp, his grip on your shoulders loosening as he crumples to the ground, unconscious. The voices suddenly go silent, the mental chains around your mind shattering as Shadowmind’s control slips away.

You blink, disoriented, the world around you coming back into focus. Your hands are still glowing with that flowing energy, your heart racing as the realization of what you’ve done sinks in. You look down at your friend’s motionless form, horror flooding your veins.

"What… what did you make me do?" you whisper, your voice trembling as you take a step back, staring at your hands as if they belong to someone else.

Shadowmind laughs, the sound cold and mocking. "You did exactly what I wanted you to do," she says sweetly, sickeningly sweet. "You proved that no matter how strong you think you are, I can break you. Both of you."

You shake your head. "This isn’t over," you say, anger and fear dowsing you. "We’ll come for you. We’ll end this."

Her smile widens, a dark, knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, I’m counting on it," she says softly, almost affectionately in its cruelty. "But for now, I think I’ll let you live with what you’ve done. After all, the real torture comes from the inside, doesn’t it?"

She waves a hand dismissively, and the remnants of the mental pressure that had been suffocating you vanishes completely. The sudden release makes you lurch forward, your knees nearly buckling as the full weight of your actions crashes down on you. The chamber feels like it's closing in, it’s hard to breathe as you watch Shadowmind step back toward the console, her gaze lingering on Logan’s unconscious form with a sense of triumph

"I’ll be waiting, Wolverine," she says. "And next time, I’ll make sure you both suffer."

With that, she melts into the shadows, disappearing like a phantom, leaving you alone in the silent chamber with Logan’s still form. The only sound that breaks the quiet is your ragged breathing, the pounding of your heart a deafening roar in your ears.

You drop to your knees beside him, your hands trembling violently as you reach out to touch him, your fingers hesitating, afraid of what you’ll find. Relief floods through you when you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his breaths shallow but present. But the sight of the blood trickling down from where wound would have been on his head—where you slammed him against the wall—makes your stomach churn with guilt.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, your voice cracking as tears blur your vision. "I’m so sorry, Logan…"

He doesn’t respond, his face pale and still. For what feels like an eternity, you just sit there, cradling his head in your lap, your fingers brushing through his hair, now matted with blood.

----

After a few more minutes, and with trembling hands, you manage to lift Logan’s unconscious form, his body limp in your arms, and haul him onto your back. Thanks to your mutant strength, he’s not heavy—physically, you can carry him with ease—but the emotional weight of it, the burden of what you’ve done, makes him feel like he weighs a thousand pounds.

The Wolverine, silent and motionless—it’s something you’ve never seen before, and it’s terrifying.

The tunnel is dark and seemingly endless as you make your way back, every step feeling like a battle against the overwhelming tide of despair threatening to pull you under. Tears stream down your face, silent and unchecked, as you hold onto him, his head resting against your shoulder.

Eventually, you reach the van, the sight of it a small beacon in the abyss. With great care, you lower his body into the back, laying him down as gently as you can. His face is still so pale, his breaths too shallow, and the sight makes you feel worse.

You climb into the van beside him, your hands trembling as you search for something to wipe away the blood. Once you find a cloth, you gently stroke his face. The only response is the rhythmic sound of his breathing, and the silence that fills the van is suffocating. You lean over him, your forehead resting against his as tears continue to spill from your eyes. "I’ll fix this," you vow. "I’ll find a way to fix this… I promise."

----

The drive back to the warehouse is a blur. Logan doesn’t stir, not even when the van hits a rough patch of road. Not even when you make a shitty turn. You keep glancing back at him, hoping to see those familiar eyes staring back at you, but there’s nothing. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When you finally arrive at the warehouse, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white. Then you move.

You slowly slide Logan out of the van, his weight heavy against you as you half-drag, half-carry him toward the bed—his bed. The place where you’ve slept for the past few nights while he took the couch. Laying him down, your hands shake vigorously as you arrange him as comfortably as you can.

He’s still unresponsive, and all you can do is sit beside him, your heart hammering in your chest as you wait, watching him closely for any sign that he’s waking up. The minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity. Your mind races, replaying every second of the fight, the way Shadowmind twisted your thoughts, the way your body had moved against your will.

You’re lost in those dark thoughts when you finally see it—a faint twitch of his fingers, a slight furrow in his brow. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes flutter open, slowly focusing on the ceiling above him. For a split second, he looks disoriented, then those steel eyes shift toward you.

Before you can stop yourself, you practically launch yourself at him, covering his body with yours, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The suddenness of it makes him stiffen for a moment, his body tensing under your touch. But then, slowly, you feel him relax, his arms wrapping around your waist in return, holding you close.

His broad chest is warm and solid beneath yours, the strength in his arms grounding you in a way that makes you think nothing else can. You can feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and it calms the storm inside you just a little. Letting yourself melt into the embrace, the overwhelming relief of feeling him alive and whole washes over you.

But then your thoughts catch up to you, and you pull back slightly, your heart racing for an entirely different reason. What the hell am I doing? You force yourself to push away the thoughts of how good it felt to be in his arms, how comforting his strength was. Not the time or place.

When you make eye contact, you realize how close you still are. Your faces are just inches apart, and for a mere moment, neither of you move. His eyes, intense and unreadable, lock onto yours, and you feel a jolt of something electric shoot through you.

"Logan, I’m—" you start to apologize, but the words catch in your throat.

He shakes his head slightly, silencing you with a look. "It wasn’t you," he says softly, tightening his hold. "I know it wasn’t you."

The sincerity in his eyes almost breaks you, but you manage to hold it together. The two of you sit there in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. And yet, there’s something else too—something that lingers in the way your gazes stay locked a moment too long, in the way his hands still rest on your hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through your skin.

You pull back completely, breaking the moment. Standing up, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart is still racing.

"I was really worried that I actually hurt you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you look anywhere but at him.

Logan sits up slowly, his movements a little stiff, but he’s already recovering. "I’m tough to get rid of," he says, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes are serious. "But thanks."

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to shake off the residual tension. "You should rest," you say, gesturing to the bed.

He studies you for a moment, as if he’s trying to read something in your expression. Then he yields, lying back down, but not before he gives you one last look. "You need rest too, Knifey.”

"Yeah," you agree. "I will."

But as you walk away, you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his arms around you, and you can’t help but wonder what the hell just happened between you.

----

The warehouse falls into an uneasy silence after you step away from the bedside. The faint light filters through the cracks in the windows, casting shadows across the cluttered space. You move to a nearby chair, sinking into it with a heavy sigh, your mind still spinning from everything that’s happened. The weight of what you did under Shadowmind’s control sits heavily on your chest, the guilt plaguing you even as you try to focus on the immediate future.

You can hear Logan’s breathing slow and even out as he drifts back to sleep, his body needing time to recover from the ordeal. You know he’s right—both of you need rest—but you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes just yet. The memory of the fight, of your body acting against your will, is too fresh, too raw. You keep replaying the moment you slammed his head against the wall, the sickening sound of the impact still reverberating in your ears.

Time passes slowly. The warehouse is quiet, save for the occasional creak of old metal and the distant hum of the city outside. You sit there, watching over the mutant, your body refusing to relax. Eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in, and your eyelids grow heavy, but every time you start to drift off, you’re jolted awake by the memories.

After what feels like hours, the first rays of dawn begin to pierce the darkness. There isn’t much light, but it brings a sliver of comfort, a reminder that the night is over. You glance over at Logan, who is still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. Despite the bruises and the cuts that have healed, he looks peaceful—something you don’t often see.

Unable to sit still any longer, you get up and start pacing the warehouse, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been building up inside you. The physical movement helps clear your mind a little, but it doesn’t do much to ease the knot of emotions tangled up in your chest.

As you walk, your thoughts keep circling back to Shadowmind. The way she taunted you, the way she manipulated your mind so effortlessly—it’s infuriating. And then there’s the way Logan looked at you afterward, the way he didn’t want your apology. When you remember the way his strong arms around you, the way you felt so small but safe in his embrace… It sends a chill throughout your body, and you quickly shake off the thought.

Focus, you tell yourself. There’s no time for this. You have a job to do.

Yet even as you try to push those thoughts away, they keep creeping back, resurfacing whenever you’re not paying attention. The connection you felt in that brief moment of vulnerability lingers, and it’s unsettling. Your friendship with him has improved tremendously within the last week, building on trust and mutual respect, but this…this feels different, and you’re not sure how to deal with it.

By the time the sun is fully up, you’re mentally and physically exhausted. You decide to make some coffee, hoping the routine task will help ground you. The familiar sounds of the coffee maker, the scent of fresh brew filling the air, offer a small comfort. You pour yourself a cup, savoring the warmth as it spreads through your body, chasing away the last remnants of the night’s chill.

Sitting back down, cradling the mug in your hands, you hear movement behind you. You turn to see Logan stirring, his eyes blinking open as he slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position. He looks around, taking in the light streaming through the windows before his gaze settles on you.

"Morning," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," you whisper. "How’re you feeling?"

Logan stretches, wincing slightly as he does, his muscles protesting the movement. "Feels like I got hit by a truck," he mutters with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. But then, his expression softens, the humor fading from his eyes as he looks at you with genuine concern. "But I’ll be fine. You?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I’m… okay," you finally say, though you’re not sure if that’s entirely true. After a moment, you add, "I just… I’m sorry, Logan. For what happened. For what I did."

He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it clear he doesn’t want you to carry this burden. "I told you, it wasn’t you. Shadowmind’s the one to blame, not you. You fought her as hard as you could."

"But I still—" you start, but he cuts you off with a look.

"You didn’t have a choice," he says firmly, leaving no room for argument. "And we’re going to make sure she pays for what she did. Together."

The mention of her name—Shadowmind—casts a shadow over Logan’s face. It’s the same haunted look you saw down in the tunnels, when he saw her again. There’s clearly more to the story, more to the pain that’s etched into his expression. You hesitate, unsure if you should press further, but curiosity and concern for him win out. "Logan," you ask quietly, "who is she? What’s the history between you two?"

He leans back against the wall, the tension in his body not easing but shifting as he gathers his thoughts. Sucking in a harsh breath, you can tell that whatever he’s about to say is something he rarely, if ever, shares.

"Her real name is Lorna Mallory," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of memories long buried but never forgotten. "We crossed paths years ago, back when I was with Weapon X."

"She was one of the many mutants that Weapon X experimented on," Logan continues bitterly. "She had powerful telepathic and telekinetic abilities, but the scientists wanted to push her beyond her limits, see just how much they could get out of her. They messed with her mind, twisted it, just like they did with me. But Lorna… she wasn’t like the others. She fought back, hard. She wouldn’t let them break her."

He pauses, his eyes distant, as if he’s seeing the past play out in front of him. You can almost picture it too—the cold, sterile labs, the cruel, calculating scientists, and the unending pain they inflicted on those they deemed as nothing more than tools. "I was different back then. More… feral, more under their control. They used me as their weapon, their enforcer. And when Lorna started resisting, they sent me after her."

Your heart sinks as you begin to piece together the story, the tragic and brutal connection between Logan and Shadowmind. "What did they make you do?" you ask, though part of you dreads hearing the answer.

His jaw clenches, his muscles tightening so much so it’s like he’s physically bracing himself for the confession. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes, the shame and regret palpable in the air between you. "They sent me to stop her. To… subdue her," he gets out. "I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t in control of myself any more than you were back there."

Finally, he looks at you. "I attacked her. Hurt her badly. But she survived. Barely. The damage I did wasn’t just physical—it shattered her mind. Turned her into the monster she is now."

The room is laden with the weight of Logan’s confession.

"And now she wants revenge," you say quietly, understanding the gravity of the situation.

He nods grimly. "She’s been waiting for this chance. I think in some twisted way, she blames me for everything that happened to her. And she’s right. I was the one who pushed her over the edge."

"But it wasn’t your fault," you insist, repeating the words he had said to you earlier. You can see the parallels between your situation and his, both of you victims of forces beyond your control. "They used you, just like she used me."

He doesn’t seem convinced. "Doesn’t change what I did. And now, she’s come back to finish what she started. She wanted to lure me out, make me suffer, and when she found you, she saw a way to do it."

You can see the pain in his eyes, the guilt that he’s been carrying for so long. It’s clear that this fight with Shadowmind isn’t just about survival for him—it’s personal.

Reaching forward, you grab his hands in yours, holding them tightly. "We’ll stop her," you say. "We’ll find her and put an end to this."

Logan looks at you, a flicker of something softer passing through his gaze. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "We will."

----

The two of you decide to spend the next week doing nothing. There isn’t much to do anyway, you know your goal, you just have to act on it. But you don’t want to—not now. You want to savour these moments with Logan where it feels like you hadn’t tried to kill him. Where, for a little while, you can forget about the darkness that still persists in the corners of your mind.

So much has changed, you think, since the encounter with Shadowmind. From the point that he shared more about his past, it’s like the floodgates have opened. Logan no longer hides behind his rough exterior, letting you in to see who he is when his guard isn’t up.

The small moments of bickering have turned into playful banter, the non-committal grunts have evolved into full-fledged conversations, and the sidelong glances have turned into lingering looks. What was once tension between you now feels like a quiet comfort, a connection that’s deepened with each passing day. You’ve gone from being reluctant allies to something more—something you’re not sure either of you are ready to name, but it’s there, undeniable in the way he stands a little closer, in the way his touch lasts just a little longer, in the way your heart skips a beat every time your eyes meet.

That’s why after a particularly quiet start to the day, you decide to cook something—a way repay Logan for letting you seek shelter with him, and lending his shoulder for you to lean on when you need to. But cooking has never been your strong suit, and as you stand in the kitchen, surrounded by half-chopped vegetables and a sauce that’s beginning to smell suspiciously burnt, you realize you might be in over your head.

Logan appears beside you as if summoned by the smell of impending disaster, his arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You tryin’ to burn the place down, or what?"

Placing your hand on your hip in mock defiance, you huff, turning to face him. "I’m making dinner, obviously. Do you have eyes?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "That what you call it? Smells like you’re tryin’ to poison us both."

You roll your eyes, but there’s a playful glint in them. "Ha ha, very funny. I’m just… experimenting."

Snorting, his amusement is evident as he steps into the kitchen, surveying the scene of culinary carnage. "Experimentin’? Well, let’s see what you’ve got so far." He peers into the pan, his expression growing even more dubious. "You know, maybe I should take over before you really do burn the place down."

You make a face, reluctantly stepping aside as he moves to the stove with the confidence of someone who’s rescued more than a few meals in his time. "Fine, but only because I don’t want you to complain about my cooking for the next week."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts to salvage the meal, adding a few more ingredients with practiced ease, adjusting the heat, and stirring with impressive skill–and you didn’t even know that stirring required skill!

You hover nearby, more a spectator than a helper at this point, and you go to reach for something on a high shelf—maybe the salt or some spices, you’re not entirely sure—but as you stretch, you lose your balance. Before you can grab the counter to stabilize yourself, Logan’s hands are suddenly on your hips, steadying you with a gentle grip. For a moment, you just stand there, your back pressed against his chest, the world narrowing down to the steady rhythm of his breath, the solid warmth of his body anchoring you.

"You okay?" he asks lowly, close to your ear.

A bit breathless, and feeling the solid warmth of him behind you, all you can do is nod and try your best to string together a sentence. "Yeah, just… clumsy."

He doesn’t let go immediately, his hands resting on your hips for a second longer, as if to make sure you’re really steady. When he finally does, you turn to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks."

"Anytime,” he hums.

You both fall into a comfortable rhythm after that, working side by side in the kitchen. There’s a bit of bickering—mostly about your questionable cooking methods and his insistence on doing things his way—but it’s light, teasing, and you realize how much you love this. The ease, the banter, the way he seems to know exactly what you need without you having to say a word.

And when you sit down to eat later, the meal actually turning out better than you expected, there’s a sense of calm that settles between you. He catches your eye, and there’s something in his gaze—something warm, reassuring. "See? Told ya I’d make sure we didn’t get poisoned," he says with a small smirk.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky."

An unexpected banging on the warehouse’s metal doors shatters the quiet moment. You and Logan freeze, both of you instinctively tensing as your eyes meet in confusion and alarm.

“Does anyone know you live here?” you ask tightly, eyebrows furrowed.

His expression darkens, his brows knitting together in a deep, foreboding frown. “Fuck no,” he growls.

The pounding on the door continues, relentless and ominous, each thud vibrating through the metal like a warning. Wordlessly, Logan moves toward the door, his steps slow and cautious, every muscle in his body taut and ready for whatever might be on the other side. You follow him closely, your senses on high alert, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation.

He reaches the door and hesitates for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering over the latch. His eyes flick to you, a silent communication passing between you—be ready. Then, with a swift motion, he unlatches the door and yanks it open.

In an instant, a mutant leaps at him with insane intensity, teeth bared and claws outstretched. Logan barely has time to react before they’re both locked in a brutal struggle, his claws flashing out as he fends off the attack. The sheer force of the mutant’s assault drives them both back a few steps.

“Logan!” you shout with urgency as you watch them grapple with each other.

But before you can even think to help, a wave of mutants surges toward the open doorway, their movements are eerily synchronized, as if driven by a single, malevolent will. Panic surges through you, your instincts screaming at you to act. You lunge forward, grabbing the nearest mutant and hurling them back with all your strength. The mutant crashes into the others, causing a brief moment of chaos among them.

“Get the door!” Logan shouts over his shoulder, his voice rough with exertion as he continues to fend off the mutant still trying to tear him apart.

You rush to the door, throwing your weight against it as you struggle to push it closed. The mutants on the other side slam into the door with relentless force, their growls and snarls mingling with the metallic screeching of the hinges, turning the warehouse into a scene of barely controlled chaos. The metal groans under the strain, the door trembling against your efforts to hold it shut.

“Logan, help me!” you cry out, your voice strained as you use every ounce of your strength to keep the door from giving way. You might have super strength, but against a hoard of mutants? Impossible.

He finishes off the mutant he was grappling with, leaving the attacker a bloody mess on the floor, then he’s at your side in an instant, hands bracing against the door as he leans his full weight into it. The mutant who attacked him now lying on the floor, a bloody mess. Together, you manage to push the door closed, the sound of the latch clicking into place reaching your ears. But the pounding on the other side continues, the door shaking under the persistant assault of the mutants.

“They’re being mind-controlled,” you gasp, your breath coming in ragged gulps as the whole situation hits you. The fear it causes seeps into your bones. The thought of these mutants being puppeted, forced to attack against their will, is horrifying enough—but the idea that Shadowmind has found you and Logan, that she’s orchestrating this, petrifies you. “But how did they find us?”

Logan grunts, his face twisted in concentration as he braces his shoulder against the door. “No clue.”

A sudden, horrifying thought strikes you, and you feel your blood run cold. “The van,” you whisper, more to yourself than anything.

Realizing the same thing your thinking, his eyes widen. “Shit… the GPS tracker.” His voice thick with anger and frustration. “They must have used it to track us down.”

You curse under your breath. “How didn’t we think of that?”

But there was no time to think of that now. The door shakes violently as the mutants on the other side continue to slam into it, their growls and snarls growing louder, more frenzied. You can feel the door beginning to buckle under the pressure. You press harder, using every ounce of strength you have, but it’s clear the door won’t hold much longer.

“Fuck,” Logan mutters, understanding washing over him as his knuckles whiten against the door. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s staring down a ghost. “They’re here for me.”

“What?” you snap, turning to him with wide eyes, confused and afraid. “What do you mean they’re here for you?”

“This is Lorna’s doing, for sure,” he growls. “She wants me.”

The implication behind his words isn’t lost on you. Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, a cold dread settling in. “No, no, no, don’t do this,” you plead, the desperation clear in your voice as your mind races to stop the train of thought you know is forming in Logan’s mind.

Your hands tighten on the door, as if you can physically hold him back from whatever reckless plan he’s considering. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Let me go,” he says firmly. “Let me see what she wants.”

“Are you out of your mind?” you exclaim. The thought of Logan walking out there alone, straight into Shadowmind’s trap, sends a new wave of terror crashing over you. “She’s going to kill you!”

He sends you a grim smirk. “I can’t die, remember?”

But the attempt at reassurance does nothing to quell the fear that’s twisting in your gut.

“Please, no,” you beg, voice breaking as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. The thought of losing him, of watching him walk into danger alone, is unbearable. “Why can’t we do this together? We’ve been through everything else side by side—don’t make me sit this one out.”

His expression softens for a split second, something tender and conflicted passing through his eyes. He reaches out as if to touch you, but stops himself short. “I can’t drag you into this any further than I already have,” he says lowly.

“Logan, please…” you start to say, but before you can finish, he pushes you back with a shove, the suddenness of it sending you stumbling as you try to regain your balance. The door creaks under the pressure from outside, but Logan doesn’t hesitate. He yanks it open, and with one last look at you, he steps through with a determined stride.

“NO!” you scream, but the door slams shut behind him before you can reach him. You’re left standing alone in the dim light of the warehouse, your heart pounding with fear, anger, and helplessness.

Rushing to the door, you press your ear against, trying to catch any sound, any sign of what’s happening outside. The muffled sounds of the struggle reach your ears—grunts of pain, the clash of claws and flesh, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. You can hear Logan’s grunts and snarls, his feral side taking over as he fights off the attackers, but there’s something else too—a sinister laughter, one that you heard once before, that sends chills down your spine.

“Logan!” you shout, banging on the door, your fists pounding against the cold metal. “Logan, don’t do this! Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!”

But the only response is the sound of the battle raging outside, growing more distant as if being carried away by the wind. Knowing that that Logan is out there alone, on his way to face whatever horrors Shadowmind has prepared, destroys you. You sink to your knees, the cold of the warehouse floor bleeding into your skin as everything crashes down on you.

----

A/N: so….how we feeling??? some Logan POV next chapter!!

----

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@wildefire @aliisa-jones @maximumchilddreamland @peony-always

@newromantics98 @ayamenimthiriel @fandomsunited @britttzy267

@mainly-me @icantevendood @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @d3kstar

@im-a-wh0r3 @lunaticgurly @xlocalxpunkx @yjck121 @paradisedixon

@writingthroughmyass @that-one-little-soybean @whxtewolf

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mandy-asimp · 3 months

Text

A game for two

Pairing: emily Prentiss x fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: teasing, profanity, smut, fluff(?),

Summary: y/n is the youngest agent with a TikTok account. And after video goes viral, people notice a connection between her and emily.

"Come on Pen! It'll be a quick break. No longer than thirty minutes!" Y/n beamed as she dragged Penelope from her office.

It was a known scene for anyone to see. The youngest member of the BAU pulling someone or a few others with her to teach them a new trend. Posting on a page she ran and deemed the official BAU page, naming it bootylicious_BAUbaddies. Fitting.

"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"

The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"

"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"

"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?

"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."

Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.

"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.

Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.

What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.

By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.

It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.

By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.

She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"

"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."

"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.

And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.

Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.

Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.

JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.

Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.

Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.

The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.

"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.

Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."

"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"

Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."

Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."

And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.

Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.

It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.

The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?

Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.

The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.

She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.

However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.

"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.

Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.

JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.

The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.

"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."

"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.

She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.

"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.

Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.

They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.

Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.

"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"

Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.

"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.

And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.

The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.

"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.

"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.

"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.

And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.

It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.

"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.

"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."

Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.

"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.

Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.

But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.

"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.

"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.

She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.

The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.

But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.

Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.

A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.

In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.

"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.

Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.

Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."

Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."

Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.

It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.

"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."

Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."

The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.

"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."

Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?

Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.

She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.

It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.

"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."

"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.

"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."

"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."

Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."

The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"

Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.

"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.

Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.

Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.

"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.

But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.

Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.

"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."

"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."

Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."

"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...

"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"

They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."

She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"

Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.

She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.

And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.

Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.

They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.

Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.

It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.

The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.

Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"

She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.

When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."

"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.

Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.

She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.

Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.

Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.

She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.

She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.

The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.

Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.

Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.

But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."

Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.

That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.

She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.

Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.

Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.

The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.

"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.

"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.

The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.

He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.

"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.

"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"

"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."

Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.

It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.

Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"

"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."

It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.

The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.

The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.

It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.

Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.

Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.

Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."

"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.

She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.

It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.

Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.

JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.

Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.

"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.

Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.

"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.

And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.

Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.

A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.

"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.

She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.

While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.

"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.

A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."

"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.

Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n, let's go."

"No."

They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.

"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"

That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.

"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.

"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."

Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."

"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.

Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.

"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"

The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.

It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.

This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.

Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."

Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.

Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.

Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.

Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."

Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.

There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.

"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?

She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.

The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.

It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.

The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."

It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.

Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."

Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"

"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.

"And what is it I want?"

"Me."

"Confident much?"

Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.

"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.

"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"

Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.

Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."

"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.

"Admit to what exactly?"

"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"

"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.

Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.

"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.

Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.

"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.

Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.

"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.

Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.

"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."

The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.

"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.

Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.

"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.

"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.

They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.

Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.

The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.

Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."

Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.

Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.

Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"

"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"

The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.

Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.

Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."

And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."

"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.

Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.

Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."

"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."

Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.

Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.

"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.

"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.

Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.

And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.

"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"

"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.

She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.

There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.

Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."

The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.

Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.

And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.

"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.

A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.

She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.

Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.

The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.

Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.

"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.

Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."

Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"

"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.

Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.

"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"

Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.

Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.

It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.

The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.

"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.

The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.

Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."

Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.

Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.

"Yes baby?"

"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"

"Every word."

Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.

"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.

"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."

"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"

Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.

"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"

Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"

"You gonna hold that over my head?"

"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.

And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.

Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.

She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.

"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"

"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.

Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."

Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.

And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.

"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."

Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.

Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.

"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."

The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"

"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."

Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."

"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"

Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."

The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."

"And if it doesn't?"

Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."

"What?!"

A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"

Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.

Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.

Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.

Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."

Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.

The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."

"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.

Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."

"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"

Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."

JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"

Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."

Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"

Emily and Y/n shared a secret conversation. Both letting an infectious smile appear, "yeah, us two." They said in union. Too busy getting lost within each other to listen to the blonde jump for joy.

#emily prentiss #reader insert #fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss x reader #wlw post #happy pride 🌈#tara lewis #penelope garcia

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d0youc0py · 7 months

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I’ve been seeing so much ex husband price stuff on here and it’s making me drool. So I’m contributing some ex husband/not divorced yet but taking a break for vague reasons but you both still deeply love each other TF 141….Also this is sappy, dramatic and not accurate character portrayal—just let me live in denial!

“Johnathan, it’s 1 am.” You groaned, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Go back to bed, Honey.” He muttered back quickly. You shot him a glare at the term of endearment. He was balancing a flashlight between his teeth, his back mostly turned to you.

“Are you fixing that window?” You questioned, turning on the overhead light. He must’ve not wanted to wake you. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder at you. His chest swelled at the sight of you in one of his shirts. It took every ounce of self restraint not to wrap you up in his arms. “I told you over the phone I hired someone to come and fix it.” You yawned.

“And have some stranger traipsing through the house.” He huffed. You watched as his arms flexed at even the slightest movements. You hated these moments of weakness. It was the same reason why you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were wearing one of his shirts. Or the same reason you would light a cigar like it was incense. The same reason why you always answered his daily calls. Then you’d remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place. It always felt like someone dumping cold water on you.

And thats exactly how you felt now.

“That’s not your problem anymore, John.” You reminded. His blood ran cold. Yet he kept up his unbothered appearance.

“Never a problem, Honey.” He assured, still keeping his back to you. You sighed running a hand over your face.

“I just- I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to just show up whenever you want. It’s my house right? That’s what you agreed to. It’s not just some motel you can show up at whenever you want to feel needed.” You spat. His body was still and ridged. His teeth ached from the tight clenching of his jaw and the pain in his chest was wince worthy.

“I know.” He said slowly. “I just want you to know I’ll always take care of you, Honey.” He began to turn towards you but stopped himself. He couldn’t stand to see the look on your face.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, John.” You continued. “I was able to survive before you and when you left me every other month.” You don’t know why you were being so forceful with him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t physically seen him in a few weeks.

“Well maybe I’m not doing it for you, hmm?” He shot back, finally facing you. His eyes were just as red the day you walked out of the lawyers office. “You made your decision, but that doesn’t mean you just stopped being the most important thing in my life. So yeah, I’m going to drop by if I feel I need to because I vowed to always take care of you and no fucking paper you make me sign is going to take that away from me. If you don’t like that you can get a restraining order.”

He didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Hey, Cap.” You smiled into your phone. Calls from Price were kinda common- he just liked to check up on you here and there, but you could tell by the sigh on the other end this wasn’t going to be about you.

“Hey, Kiddo.” He started. “I catch you at a good time?” He questioned.

“Yeah, just watching TV. Everything alright?” You questioned back. There was another sigh on his end, and it sounded like he was taking a drag of his cigar.

“No one’s hurt.” He was trying to pick his words carefully. “It’s ’bout Simon, though.”

“Okay.” You responded slowly. Just the mention of Simon’s name had a small tremor rise in your body. It’s not like you had gone no-contact with him. He called you a few times a week just to ask if you needed anything, if anything in the flat needed to be fixed, or just to make sure you locked all the windows before going to sleep. “You’re building up a lot of suspense here, Cap.” You offered a fake chuckle.

“Sorry.” He paused again and you wanted to rip your hair out. “He’s just- I know it’s really none of my business what happened between the two of you but he’s not doing good, Love.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s doing fine work-wise. But I’m worried about him personally. He’s droppin’ weight, smoking a couple packs a day, drinkin’ when he knows he’s not suppose to be. When he’s not doing that he just sits and stares. Johnny has to check his pulse sometimes.” It was his turn to offer you a chuckle. Another pause and drag. A few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Price ran a hand over his face when he heard you sniffle. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I also know you would get after me if I didn’t. Now you don’t owe him anything, but I think just a call from you would help him out a lot.”

“You think he’s doing this because of me?” You whispered.

“Course.” Price responded immediately. He cringed at himself. “What I mean to say is, you’re that man’s ‘reason.’ You get what I’m saying? Men like me and him need a reason. A reason to come home. A reason to be better. A reason to just get our asses out of bed at the crack of dawn. Like I said you don’t owe him anything, Kiddo, but I think just hearing your voice would do him some good.”

“Thank you, Price. For looking out for him and me.” You said sincerely.

“It’s what I get paid for.” He shot back with a laugh. You rolled your eyes, pressing the big red button after a ‘goodbye’. Your swollen eyes raked over the wedding photos you still had hanging in the living room. You couldn’t not call him. You wondered how long he’d been acting like this. Had he been doing it the whole time you had been separated? You rubbed at your eyes working up the courage to press his contact in your phone.

It only rang once before he answered.

“You alright?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “Just calling to check in.” You said slowly. You heard him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Checkin’ in on me?” He repeated. Your heart ached at the thought that he seemed to think you didn’t care about him.

“That okay?” You urged. He hummed in agreement. “If you’re busy I can call bac”-

“Not busy.” He cut off. “What’ve you been up to?” You heard some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting into bed. You wondered what time it was wherever he was in the world.

“Nothing too interesting. I got a new cat! She’s an older tabby who’s seen some things, but she’s a Sweetheart.” You rambled on smiling.

“She probably thinks she’s in heaven with you.” He snickered. You giggled at his words and his eyes shut tightly trying to soak up every second of it.

“Simon, is there anyway when you get back you could help me move in a new cat tower? They’re all fighting over the one we have.” Using the word ‘we’ had just become habit when talking to Simon. You didn’t even realize you had said it. But you using that word was all the ‘reason’ he needed.

“Of course. I’ll be home Wednesday. That work for you?” His heart was beating out of his chest like it did the very first time he asked you out on a date.

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Si.”

*inaccurate medical rules*

Your leg bounced up and down nervously, your eyes about to burn a hole in the pale blue curtain. You were in an accident- not a major one, but you did receive a concussion.

Johnny was still your emergency contact and according to the nurses he was more than willing to pick you up.

“He’s not entirely my husband.” You began. The nurse raised his eyes from the clipboard for a split second before shrugging.

“Says it in your file and he’s still your emergency contact. He’s already on his way, but do you have anyone else we could call?” His tone was bored and you wondered how many times he had to have this conversation a day. You slowly shook your head. “Well we can’t just let you leave by yourself.” He sighed.

“I know, but I filed for divorce. He just refuses to sign it. Doesn’t that count for anything?” You pleaded. The nurse gave you a sour look.

“I can change your emergency contact so in future accidents he won’t be contacted.” You furrowed your brows at his choice of words.

“Hopefully there won’t be anymore accidents.” Your body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. The curtain was drawn back revealing your husband. He gave you a soft smile and you hated the way it settled your stomach.

“Yeah right, so change your emergency contact or no?” The nurse piqued up. You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head side to side. You wished the floor would swallow you. The nurse looked between you and Johnny before giving you two some privacy.

“I’m sorry about all this, John.” You sighed standing up. “They wouldn’t let me leave without someone signing for me. If you could just walk me out, I can call an Uber.”

“John?” He repeated, in a whisper. It was probably just intended for himself. His chest tightened. No nicknames. He partly hoped that this experience would’ve softened you. Made you happy to be alive. Make you want to wrap your arms around him and call off the whole ‘divorce’ thing. He can picture all the times you sprawled out on his chest, whispering into his skin how safe you felt with him. Now here you were inching yourself away from him like he would ever hurt you. “I’d rather take you home.” He pressed.

“It’s seriously okay John”-

“Enough with the formalities.” He snipped. Your eyes widened and he groaned at his mistake. “You’re discounting everything we’ve been through together. Treating me like some stranger.” He growled out.

“Well what am I suppose to do? Hmm? You want me to call you ‘Mac’ again. Or any of the other ridiculous nicknames I made up for you? Well I’m not going to do that! You were good to me for so many years, Johnny- please don’t think I have forgotten that. But this last year it’s like I haven’t even existed to you. You’re taking every single job that is thrown your way like you don’t even want to be with me anyone, so I’m just doing what you do obviously want but aren’t going to say.” Your voice shook and tears dropped from your eyes, but you held your ground. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes red from holding back what you had already given up hiding.

“You think I want this? I”-

“Hey, as much as this has been the highlight of my week, we actually need your bed back.” The nurse interrupted, peaking his head through the curtains. Your flushed but nodded your head in understanding. Johnny was hot on your trail following you out. The cold air felt nice against your heated body and you turned to Johnny waiting for him to make the first step.

“I’m sorry for gettin’ on you in there.” He sighed. He shifted on his feet. “I just miss you.” His eyes refused to meet yours knowing it would cause him to break. He opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words to how desperately he wanted you in his life.

“For a man who loves to talk you sure are having a hard time.” You sniffled, wiping at your still streaming eyes.

That was all he needed to let it out. It was sloppy and unfiltered, but yet it shattered your world and everything you thought you knew about the man and how he felt about you.

You saw him at the store. It wasn’t the first time you had run into him- actually you two seemed to be bumping into each other all over the place. And without hesitation every single time he would flee the scene like you were some bully from high school he ran into. The same thing happened tonight. You both turned into the same aisle, stared at each other for a moment, then he dropped his basket and charged out the door.

You had already made up your mind weren’t going to let him go this easy.

You rushed after him, at a speed walk pace.

“Kyle!” You shouted after him in the parking lot. He was just opening the door to his sleek black car, one of his feet inside already. He paused for a moment, before sliding into the drivers seat. You were able to grab the door handle before he shut it on you.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He growled, beginning to tug the door back. Your hand gripped the car door and he quickly faltered not wanting to slam it shut on your fingers.

“Just let me talk, please?” You begged. Those same brown eyes that you had spent the best part of your life staring into bore coldly into yours. “I just- We keep running into each other. I just think it’s silly that we keep avoiding each other.”

“Not silly.” He shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t want me anymore, remember?” Your heart dropped.

“Ky, that’s not true”-

“Fucking save it, Y/N. You’re the one who wanted to take a break. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with already.” He spat. His face curled in a way that made you want to die.

“Is that what you want?” You asked quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.

“I’m tired of your games, Lovie.” His voice held no warmth. “I want my partner back. The same person who I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The same person I vowed to love and protect- but that person doesn’t even seem to be you anymore. I couldn’t imagine just cutting you out of my life the way you did to me. And the fact that you were able to do it fucking terrifies me. Just call me when you figure your shit out.”

He shut the door and you let him.

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candycandy00 · 9 days

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Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 1

Read the details about this event here!

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

For the first two rounds, I’m not naming the men. You can probably figure out who is who, but that’s part of the fun! I’m doing it this way to encourage readers to vote based on the scenario rather than just automatically voting out their least fave character.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

The dead walk! The world has been plunged into a zombie apocalypse, and you’re barely able to flee your home in the city before the place gets completely overrun. You try to survive alone for a couple of weeks, but you realize you can’t make it on your own. You need to find a group, or at least a partner to help you keep watch at night. Because as the panic and chaos set in, humans become as dangerous as the living dead.

With this in mind, you wander into a tiny abandoned town twenty miles outside the city. You’re hoping to find some supplies to last you until you can find help, so you cautiously walk down the street, a crowbar gripped tightly in your hand.

You hear them before you see them. A cacophony of groans and growls coming from a nearby alley. You freeze, trying to decide whether to run back the way you came or try to hide in a building. When the first few zombies shamble out of the alley, you no longer have a choice. They’ve seen you, and they’ll pursue you relentlessly. You run to the nearest shop, a boutique with expensive looking dresses on mannequins in the window, and try the door. Locked!

You run to the next building, which seems to be a small post office, but it’s locked too! Panicking, you begin trying every door you come across, but all of them are either locked, or completely shattered to the point that entering would offer no protection at all.

“Hey! This way!” you hear a voice shout.

You look up to see a grocery store at the end of the street. You can see a man’s silhouette against the warm light of the store. He’s waving you over, so you make a mad dash for him, the herd of zombies hot on your trail.

When you’re just a few feet from the door, from safety, you feel a dead, clammy hand on your arm, pulling you back. You scream, trying to jerk free, but a second hand grips your other arm.

You’re close enough to see the man, see his worried expression. He starts toward you to help, but another, bigger man suddenly runs out of the store. With nothing but his bare hands, he rips the zombies away from you, allowing you to sprint into the store. The two men come in after you and pull the door to the grocery store shut, locking it up tight.

Once inside, you scan the store. There are five more men here, all incredibly attractive. What did you just wander into?

The men explain that they’re traveling together and decided to stop at this store for a while to rest and stock up on supplies. One of them has worked here before and has a key to the stock room. Some of them seem to know each other better than others, but they all get along well enough from what you can tell.

They invite you to stay, and you agree, so you go around the store to properly meet each of them.

Man #1:

The first man you approach is the one who had called out to you and waved you over. He’s sitting on a turned over crate, and beside him is a box holding useful items like flashlights and batteries. He looks up at you when you get close enough.

“I just wanted to thank you for helping me,” you tell him.

He gives you a somewhat awkward smile. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough to help you when you were grabbed.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. You were going to help. That’s enough for me. So how long do you guys plan to stay here?”

He glances toward the others. “Hopefully not long. I need to get to the next town quickly. Someone is waiting for me.”

You’re tempted to ask about that, but you don’t want to pry. Still, you can’t help wondering who is waiting for him. Family? A lover?

“I hope you find them,” you say, and he smiles again. This time it’s a more natural, comfortable smile, and it somehow puts you at ease.

“If you need anything, feel free to take it. There’s plenty of supplies here.”

You return his genuine smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

He gives a friendly wave as you walk away. Before you get too far, he adds, “Let me know if you need help with anything!”

Man #2:

The next man you approach is the one who ran out and tore the zombies off you. He’s lounging in a plastic pool chair, and you have no idea how it hasn’t already collapsed beneath him. He’s tall, and clearly strong. To be honest, he’s a little intimidating, but you gather your courage and walk over to him.

“Thank you for helping me,” you say.

He glances up at you, a small grin on his face. “Don’t worry about it. I was getting bored in here anyway.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You look down and see a crate full of food on the floor beside him. They’re all non-perishables, smart choices to take.

“How long have you guys been here?” you ask, trying to make conversation.

He leans back in the chair, his arms behind his head. “Since yesterday. We’ve been here too long if you ask me.”

“In a hurry to get somewhere?”

He shrugs. “I just don’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Aren’t you scared to go back out there? The zombies seem to be growing in numbers,” you say. It’s true that you’ve been seeing more and more lately.

The man laughs. “I’m not worried about zombies. They go down too easily.”

You give a nervous laugh. He certainly seems capable of fighting off zombies, and his confidence is reassuring. But there’s a certain excitement in his eyes that makes you anxious. So you smile and nod then move on to the next man.

Man #3:

The third man you approach is speaking to a couple of the others, so you wait patiently for them to finish. The other two walk away to continue whatever they were doing, and you take this chance to say hello.

His smile is quite charming as he turns to face you. “Hello there. Are you alright? That must have been frightening.”

For a moment, you don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s so good looking that your mind nearly went blank. Then you remember that you were attacked by zombies just a few minutes ago. “Oh, yeah, that was pretty scary. I’ve been in similar situations before though.”

“Really? Well I’m glad you’re safe now,” he says.

“Thanks,” you tell him. “You guys were lucky to find this place. It’s still well stocked.”

He nods. “As soon as I heard about it, I knew we needed to come here to gather supplies. We’ll have more options later if we have plenty of necessities.”

He seems like a man who likes to plan things out in advance. Definitely a good thing in a world that’s turned to chaos. “Smart move,” you say.

He smiles again, and for the first time you notice that his smile doesn’t feel totally genuine. “Smart moves are the only way to survive now.”

“You’re right about that,” you say as you wave politely and walk away.

Man #4:

The next man you decide to speak to is currently standing near the front door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Are you on watch duty?” you ask him as you step closer to him.

He looks down at you, because he’s unusually tall. “Yeah. Someone’s gotta do it. Been my turn for the past hour.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that if he’s been on watch for an hour, he probably saw you running toward the store, being chased by zombies. If that’s the case, why wasn’t he the one who called out to you?

Deciding not to mention that, you decide to try being friendly. “I wouldn’t want to be the zombie trying break into this place, with you standing guard.”

He gives you a hint of a grin, then asks, “Did you come from the city?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod.

He hesitates, as if deciding whether to ask his next question or not. Then, in a more quiet voice, asks, “How bad was it?”

Something about his tone feels… sad? You decide to be honest, but gentle. “My little part of the city was overrun. But a lot of people made it out. And there were a lot of places digging in and setting up fortified shelters.”

“I see,” he says, glancing out the glass door. “Guess I’ll check those when I get there.”

“You’re going to the city?”

“Yep. There’s something I gotta do there.”

You give him what you hope is an encouraging smile. “I hope it works out for you.”

He looks at you again. “Thanks.”

Man #5:

You find the next man in the hardware aisle. There’s not much left, but he’s got an armload of gray duck tape.

“Hi there,” you say, smiling when he looks up at you.

He doesn’t return the smile, but he nods to you in acknowledgement.

You eye the tape. “Something broken?”

“The tape makes for great armor,” he says. “Wrap it around your arms and ankles, zombie teeth have a hard time penetrating it.”

“That’s a good idea,” you tell him, genuinely impressed. Why haven’t you thought of something like that before?

He hands you a couple of his rolls. “Wrap up before we leave. It might save your life.”

You take them gratefully, deciding he’s a pretty nice guy despite your initial impression. “Thanks. I really appreciate you guys letting me in.”

He finally shows you a subtle smile. “It wouldn’t be right to just leave you out there. If someone has the means to help another person, they should do it.”

“I agree,” you say. “I’m glad there are still other people who feel that way.”

He looks down. “We’re probably in the minority though.”

“I hope not,” you reply, then wave to him as you walk away.

Man #6:

The next man nearly bumps into you as he walks out of the stock room. There’s a shopping basket full of food on his arm. “Oh, sorry,” he says, stopping and looking down at you.

You dismiss his apology with a smile and a wave of your hand. “Is it alright if I go in?” you ask him. You’ve already been told by someone else to take whatever you want, but you feel the need to ask again now that you’re face to face with someone else as you walk in.

He smiles in a friendly, easy going way. “Sure. It’s not like we own the store, so take whatever you like!”

“Thanks.”

“Need any help?” he asks, stepping aside to give you room. “Some of the best stuff is on the top shelves.”

You notice that he’s already got quite the load. “That’s okay. I’m sure I can manage. Thanks for offering.”

He smiles again. Somehow it seems to brighten the whole store. “You don’t have to be so polite. We’re just a bunch of random guys.”

“How did you guys meet?” you ask. You’ve been curious about their relationships since you first got here.

“Some of us have known each other for a long time, but most of us met up at a shelter about thirty miles back.”

You think for a moment about his answer, then ask, “Why leave the shelter?” You had been to one yourself, but you were alone and you got a bad vibe from the men running it so you left after two days.

His smile falters. “Someone was hiding a bite. They turned, attacked more people who turned and attacked more. The whole place broke down in less than an hour.”

That sounded horrifying. “I’m sorry,” you say, not sure how else to respond to that.

“Don’t be,” he says, smile back on his face. “We got out, so I’m guessing other people did too. Just have to hold onto hope, you know?”

You return his infectious smile. “Yeah, I know,” you tell him before walking into the stock room.

Man #7:

You find the last man in the stock room, standing in the middle of it, looking over the shelves. There’s a clipboard in his hand with papers attached to it. When he notices you entering the room, he turns to face you.

“Oh, hello. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I’m just looking around,” you say. Then your eyes drop to the clipboard. “Taking stock of what’s left?”

“I found this inventory list in here when we first arrived. I was looking it over to make sure we didn’t miss anything useful,” he tells you.

“Find anything?”

He points to a large, open cardboard box on a shelf. “I didn’t realize a small grocery store would have so many first aid products, so that was a nice surprise.”

“I bet,” you say, scanning the shelves.

He holds the clipboard out to you. “Would you like to take a look?”

You take it from him. “Thanks,” you say, your eyes moving over the list. As you read over it, you make conversation. “Any idea where you guys are heading?”

“From what I understand, we’re going somewhere more rural, less populated. The plan is to look for somewhere to set up a permanent base.”

You look up. The word “permanent” caught your attention. It’s a word that feels nebulous and unattainable right now. “That sounds nice,” you say.

He gives you a warm look. “You’re welcome to come with us for as long as you like.”

Something about him makes you feel secure. Maybe it’s because he seems so calm and composed. “I think I’ll tag along for a while,” you tell him.

He nods. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #higuruma x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #choso kamo #sukuna #higuruma hiromi #jjk halloween #halloween fanfiction

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scholastic-dragon · 9 months

Note

HAPPY BDAY YAYYYY

could i request a Hellboy x female reader with prompt 9: don't give me that look?

You can have free reign other than that, thank you so much!

hehehehehehehehehe

yes

Right Place.... right time?

warnings: SMUT, minors DNI

"Don't give me that look," He growls, glancing around the dark tunnel you two are in. "We can't,"

You scoff, setting your flashlight on your belt.

Hellboy was trying to be better. He'd fucked up on so many missions and wanted to remind the team that he was here. That he could do a simple recon mission.

"I'm serious, Babe," He groans, looking through the underground tunnels. You two had split off, looking for clues for the most recent monster escapade. "I cannot get distracted-"

He turns and the words die on his tongue. Your jacket is already off, your shirt unbuttoned to reveal your bare chest. And your hands and working on your belt and pants.

"Babe," He wants to sound assertive, but it comes out as a plead. His cock is already half hard seeing you like this. "We're in the middle of a mission, we can't-"

Your pants fall to the floor. Now you're in nothing but a red thong. His resolve smashes into a million pieces.

Before he can think, he's rushing forward, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. He gives you no time to breathe, his flashlight falling to the floor with a thump.

Lifting you in his arms, he pushes you against the cold stone wall. It's wet and damp and cold down here, but as you mewl and roll your hips into his pants he can't seem to care.

His stone hand and tail keep you pressed to the wall, his human one runs down your body until he reaches your weeping cunt. "God, you're fucking soaked," He all but moans into your mouth.

"Pants. Pants," Is all you can reply, reaching down and tugging at his belt. It takes you both a minute, but you finally get the damned thing off. He barely pushes down his pants and underwear, his cock bobs in the open air.

He notches the hot tip at your entrance, kissing at your throat. He slips inside and you mewl and grip his shoulders. Slowly but surely he sinks you down to the hilt, both of you panting and moaning quietly.

He moves you like you weigh nothing, up and down over and over again. His teeth latch onto your breasts, sucking dark bruises onto the soft skin.

God, he's already close.

His tail sneaks over your thigh that wrapped around his hip and rubs at your swollen clit. You moan and groan into his mouth.

"Shit, shit, shit," You chant, followed by a scream of his name and other blasphemous curses. Your cunt squeezes him tight, gushing around him. He grunts, hips stuttering as he spills inside you.

His knees nearly give out, pressing you harder into the wall. You're both shaking and panting in each others arms.

You laugh breathlessly. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He opens his mouth to respond when someone else's voice echoes off the tunnels. "It'll get a lot worse if you two don't clean up and get to the rendezvous point in ten minutes,"

Hellboy's blood runs cold. "Abe? Were you listening?" You gasp softly, face flushing deep, covering your face in your hands.

He laughs. "Thankfully no, I got hear just a minute ago to the heavy breathing. But I can only cover for you two for so long, so hurry up," His footsteps retreat from the tunnel.

"Thanks, Abe, I owe ya," Hellboy calls, smirking at your flushed face.

"You owe me a lot actually," He says, voice getting quiet.

Hellboy chuckles, licking his lips. "Ya know what, baby? That was worth it," He laughs harder as you smack his shoulder.

#hellboy #hellboy x reader #hellboy smut #hellboy 2004 #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy oneshot #hellboy imagine #birthday smut prompts #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

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happy74827 · 8 months

Text

Bring It In

[Sam Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After a rough hunt, Sam seeks your comforting touch.

WC: 1747

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Sammy!! My adorable pookie. God, he was so precious in the early seasons that I just had to write about him.

『••✎••』

Waking up to a shadow in the middle of the night, especially when you were staying in a motel that was miles away from any civilization, was never a good thing. Especially when you could feel it even before opening your eyes, its presence heavy on the air. It made your senses scream and your heart race.

The feeling of being watched and studied was not something a normal person would like to wake up to, and as you lay there in bed with your eyes closed, that feeling struck you right into your core, making your muscles tense. Adding into the fact of the complete awareness of the supernatural world you were a part of, that was just the cherry on top of the cake.

But as you lay there, your brain going at 100 miles an hour, you realize this instance wasn’t one of those life-threatening situations you were so used to. It was an oddly comforting feeling as the flashlight you flew into the darkness was caught in the hands of someone you trusted with your life, the same hands that have touched every inch of your body in a way you could never forget.

He had been hunting all night, you could tell. Although it was dark, and only the soft glow from the motel sign illuminated the room, you knew his clothes were covered in dirt and leaves, and his hair was a mess. He didn't care, though, as he walked closer to you, his eyes becoming clear as he turned the flashlight on.

Sam had a tendency to get into these moods. A mood where he needed something to ground him and remind him that the life he was living was worth fighting for. You had always been that thing for him, his anchor, and as he approached the bed, his mind was racing with everything and nothing all at once.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands reached out, touching you softly. It wasn’t sexual; he had no interest in that right now. He was looking for comfort. He just needed you.

You sighed, pulling yourself up from your position on the bed to get a better look at him. His eyes were tired and glistened over with some sort of sadness that he tried to keep hidden from you, but he knew he couldn’t. The tears reflected the moonlight that shined through the blinds and through the flashlight, and although the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than usual, he still looked at you with the most love you could imagine.

You didn't have to ask him why he was here, why he had been gone all night. You knew. He was a creature of habit, and Sam was very good at reading people. He knew when you were at your weakest when you needed him the most, and you did the same for him.

He needed reassurance. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, or else the guilt and shame would eat him alive. So when he saw the soft expression on your face, the gentle smile, and the look in your eyes, he nodded. It was soft, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

“You scared me.” You said, reaching forward to take his hand in yours. The flashlight was still clutched tightly in his other hand, the light shining up at the ceiling.

He sighed, squeezing your hand and looking away. It was silent for a moment before you felt him shift. The mattress moved slightly under his weight as he scooted closer, his eyes meeting yours once more.

Without a word, he reached forward, the hand that had been holding the flashlight coming up to rest on the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, the roughness of his hand feeling nice against your soft skin. He ran his thumb over your cheek before moving to cup the back of your head.

He was slow, almost hesitant, and you gave him a reassuring smile. You loved this man more than anything, and the gentle kisses he placed on your forehead and cheeks were the most tender of moments. You felt your heart swell as he finally kissed your lips, his hand moving from the back of your head to wrap around you, pulling you closer.

He let the flashlight fall to the floor, the loud thud it made against the carpet going unnoticed. You felt his lips tremble slightly, his emotions getting the best of him as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away, just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. Now you saw the blood, the bruises, and the cuts covering his face. He didn’t seem to care about them, but you did. It broke your heart, knowing that he had spent all night killing monsters and demons just to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.

He let out a sigh, a long, hard breath as if he had been holding it in forever. Relief, the kind that came after a good cry or after a bad case of the flu was gone, washed over his face, and you could see the tension leave his shoulders. He leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“I know,” He spoke, his voice cracking slightly. His tone was soft, his lips brushing against your ear. You shivered, rubbing your hands over his back. “I’m sorry, I just.. I needed- I needed to make sure that you were okay. That we were okay. It just... It gets overwhelming, and with what happened to Jess-”

You shushed him, turning to place a kiss on his temple. He sighed again, his breath tickling the side of your neck. His scent surrounded you, a mix of dirt and sweat and a hint of gunpowder. Dean’s presence was there, too, a bit of cologne and beer mixed into the air.

You didn't need to know where Dean was. You were pretty sure he had been on a hunt with Sam, and now he was at a bar, trying to get over his demons. The two brothers were so closely similar and yet so different, but in moments like this, where they were both torn down to their core, you could see the resemblance.

The two of them had a lot of things in common, but their biggest similarity was their stubbornness. They refused to ask for help, and they were afraid to show weakness, especially in front of each other.

Dean was off, drinking his worries away, while Sam came to you. A pattern the two had developed.

You had met the brothers in a motel very similar to the one you were in now. You were there for a simple vacation, a break from all the stresses of your life, but things changed when you were woken up to the sounds of gunshots and glass breaking.

Dean had burst into your room, dragging you out with him. He was a smart guy, and although he had no clue who you were, he knew you were in danger. He had gotten into a fight with a… well, it didn’t matter what it was; all that mattered was that the thing had a taste for human flesh.

You and Sam had bonded instantly, and Dean wasn't too far behind. It was the start of a beautiful friendship despite the poor circumstances. After a year of being around each other, helping each other out with whatever situation came, the three of you became closer than you ever thought possible. A little more with Sam, of course.

So, now, when Sam comes to you late at night, needing you, needing reassurance, you don’t hesitate. You give him all that he needs and more, and when he holds you close, his body trembling and his words shaky, you know it was the right decision.

His grip on you tightened, pulling you into him. You let him, holding him just as close, your hands gently running up and down his back. You could feel the fabric of his shirt under your fingertips, and the heat from his skin radiated through.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. You could tell he was worried about Dean, about you, about the whole situation. He was afraid of what was coming, and although he didn’t know it, his fears were valid.

There was a lot to come, and it wasn’t going to be easy. The two of you had been through a lot, and although you didn't regret it, the thought of something happening to him was enough to drive you crazy.

You were about to say something, but the words never left your mouth. He was kissing you again, the force much stronger than the last, his hands gripping your arms tightly. It was an amazing kiss, filled with all the passion and love he had for you, and as he moved you, pushing you onto the bed, you felt his desperation.

It wasn’t a desperate need for sex, but a desperate need to be close to you. You knew this, and as you tangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him just as desperately, you knew he needed you more than anything. Who cared if you ended up losing more sleep than normal? Who cared if the sun came up and Dean returned to the room, finding the two of you still tangled up together in a mess of sheets? Who cared if the world was coming to an end and this was the last time the two of you would ever see each other?

He needed you, and as he whispered your name, his voice cracking with emotion, you knew he had no plans of letting you go. Not now, not ever. And when Dean did pop up a few hours later with messy hair and his shirt on backward, he would take a single glance and walk right back out the door, knowing he was going to be okay.

The three of you would be okay, and when the time comes and the world starts ending, you would fight till the very end. Because there is nothing worth fighting for more than your family, and you would do anything to protect the people you loved.

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inferno-0 · 5 months

Text

Choleric

────────────────────────────

Just the attitude of the Titans to your temperament.

Let me remind you: Choleric is active, impatient and hot-tempered extroverts.

────────────────────────────

Godzilla

* Being a serious and calm creature, Kaiju is not used to your persona. He was amazed at your courage in front of him.

* He liked your extroversion to some extent. Unlike him as a loner, you literally communicated with every creature in your path. But the best quality he has revealed is to be a Leader.

You literally managed to chase away the skullsaurs that interfered with him, of course, it was not without escape, but still.

A Brave Man.

* Wanted to chase you away, but you were too persistent.

*You are now his Watchdog.

* To be Choleric is to be aggressive to some degree. To be honest, it sometimes amuses him. If you were a Titan, you'd definitely start fighting him to the end. But I like to watch how some little guy tries to move the tip of his tail and shouts something very bad at him.

* Thankful for keeping the raging gulls away from his dorsal plates while he swims. Will wait for the moment when you banish the Monarch from his eyes.

Mothra/Mosura

* She likes your activity and perseverance. You're eager to learn anything and everything that Mothra is amused about. But your short temper . . .

* It's not that Mothra is annoyed, she's worried about you. After all, the argument gets out of control at some point.

Your impatience may be misplaced somewhere, and the Titan tries to calm you down so that there are no unnecessary problems.

* Your irritability frightens her.

Even though it's several thousand times bigger than you.

* Sometimes he presses you to his fur, hoping that you will calm down and stop driving anger to the whole world.

* Tries not to glow too much at the sight of you. Since there was a moment where you accidentally ordered her to turn off her flashlight out of annoyance, to which Mothra choked.

I think she'll give you a lecture.

* She also appreciates your leadership skills.

Rodan

* Someone, help him.

* I have never met such a person as you in my life. No, of course he is. Partially. But this Titan is compared to you, forgive me, Bug. Your audacity amused him. Until you started throwing rocks at his beak and eyes, to which the Titan was ready to go back to the volcano and anywhere else from you.

* His ego has been suppressed since that time. You're not afraid of him.

And now he thinks: Are you stupid or are you really driven by something?

* He was surprised when he found out that you wanted to be friends with him. Okay, instilling fear throughout the city wasn't good, he needed communication. Of course, your character is not great, but at some moments he is ready to laugh at you heartily. Especially when you are the one who gets into trouble.

* And now let's forget about aggression, let's remember about Leadership qualities:

"Wake Up, Silly Bird"

"Thank you so much for this morning, kind little creature," ─ grunts Rodan as he emerges from his warm nest.

* No, he sometimes likes your mindset to boss others around. Although, he has frequent flashbacks about it.

King Ghidorah

* Very brave. Very brave.

* Three heads could have hit you to certain death right away, but something caught on them. Your aggression was wonderful, of course it's a pity to hear it from a person.

* Throwing sticks and anything else you can get your hands on when he literally saved your life for five minutes.

Only these five minutes still last for some reason.

* Okay, it them off, but it's still funny. A brave little king. Ghidorah kept you as a pet, but only because you weren't a coward.

* Ichi is proud of your anger at other creatures. He likes the way you command them.

Ni has the same relationship to you as Ichi, but is only watching for fun.

San is a little disturbed by your behavior, believing you to resemble his brother Ichi.

*Sometimes they deliberately bring you into conflict (mostly Ni) to laugh at your face.

Although, in the absence of an instinct for self-preservation, you give them a savory response, to which the Titan begins to retreat.

* Humans and other Kaiju find both of you insufferable. Godzilla is even willing to ask people to take you away from there, as Ghidorah's yells from another argument can be heard even in his nest.

King kong

* You didn't look like Jia. Jia is calm and understanding, and you are like a tomboy, irritated about everything. He still thinks about how his little human friend made friends with you.

* Jia introduced you as a good person, but with a strong character that you just have to accept. Kong had expected anything but this. Although he appreciated the ability to command others. You'd be good at managing your own tribe, if you had one. But given the Skullsaurs that are on the run all over the island from you, humans would have joined them themselves. Your aggression was out of bounds.

* Kong sometimes worries about your recklessness. You're not someone who sits still like Jia. You're always going somewhere. And he doesn't understand what you need. And Jia, who is used to all this, just says to calm down.

* Kong has never been in conflict with you. He tries to stay on the edge of patience.

The truth is trying..

He likes that enthusiasm, but please stop. Otherwise, he'll put you in this flying object that people use.

────────────────────────────

#Godzilla #godzilla x kong the new empire #Godzilla x reader #King kong #King kong x reader #xreader #Mothra #Rodan #King Ghidorah #All Titans #Titans x reader #Kaiju #godzilla kotm #godzilla vs kong

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authorhjk1 · 10 months

Text

Interlude: Ms. Satan

(Kim Bora X Male Reader)

You immediately know it's a dream as soon as you open your eyes. Your body is that of an 18 year old. Standing in front of a large, dark building you feel shivers run down your spine.

Your friends made you do this. A bet. A bet that could earn you 200 bucks. Is it worth it? Maybe not. And yet, here you are. Although you are scared, you still want to find out what's going on in this building.

The cold night air messes up your hair. The stars and the moon seem unusual gloomy.

There are stories of some sort of ghost or witch or something. Hiding in this abandoned building. If the stories are true, no one has gone in there for two years now.

You gulp, the palms of your hands starting to sweat. The huge double doors are covered in yellow tape. "Caution" is written in big black letters all over them.

One of the doors is slightly ajar. Not creepy at all. You try to squeeze through the gap, hoping to not make a sound.

Your backpack feels heavy on your shoulders. You win the bet, when you leave this building tomorrow morning. Hopefully alive. For now, you plan to make your way to the roof, hoping to be able to sleep up there. There shouldn't be so much potential trouble up there. The problem is just getting there.

You hear your steps echo through the empty building as you start to climb the stairs. The bright circle of light from your flashlight illuminates the walls.

A cold breeze rushes through the building. You hear some weird noise further upstairs. You stop in your tracks. It sounded like someone was walking. But the sound is gone now. Maybe that was just your imagination.

You sigh as you reach the first floor. Five more to go. The circle of light keeps dancing on the walls in front of you as you begin the climb for the second floor.

Another sound. Your heart is almost in your throat. After a second you realize it's just rain. Heavy drops hitting the building and some of the broken windows down the hall.

You get a little wet as you climb the stairs, the rain making the steps slippery. But if it rains, you can't sleep on the roof.

You groan in annoyance. Your heart stops. There it is again. The sound somewhere in the building. As if someone is walking.

You ponder if you should just run. Just run for your life without looking back. There is definitely something here. Something that already seems to know about your presence.

You reach the second floor. Your senses heightened. Should you really turn back? But that would be so embarrassing. You just hurt some stuff. Probably just the wind.

You start to take the stairs to the third floor. After a couple of steps, you freeze. Your heart almost stops. The light of your flashlight shows you a scene you never wanted to see.

A woman is sitting on the stairs. Her dark eyes seem cold. And yet they look like they can burn with fire. Her dark hair is held back by a ponytail. Most of her body is covered in a black and orange fur coat. The patterns and colors remind you of lava. Two necklaces are decorating her neck and a huge golden flower ring is slipped on her finger.

The most eye catching are her boots though. They are white and almost reach her knees. The heels look quit high, which makes you think that these can't be comfortable at all. The most disturbing thing is the fact that splashes of blood are on them. Her white boots are covered in blood.

"Hello there, hero."

"Wha-What?"

Her voice sounds sultry. Her eyes seem to stare into your soul as she keeps talking.

"You are the first one after quite a while. I was almost getting bored."

"You.... You live here?"

She chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. For some reason you expected it to sound evil. Like that of a witch.

"Of course not. But I do feel some sort of connection to this place."

You hesitantly nod. She seems nice, but you would argue that her boots say otherwise.

"What's you name, hero?"

"It's-It's (y/n). But why do you keep calling me that?"

The woman chuckles again.

"Only heroes are brave enough to face me."

"Ah."

You nod in fake understanding. This woman seems to be a little out of her mind. Or is this actually something supernatural?

"You are here because you want to feel my warmth though, am I right?"

"Your-Your, sorry, what?"

"My warmth. The people in this area send me dozens of heroes over the last hundreds of years."

What is she talking about? Is she actually that old? But she can't be human then.

"Y-You are here for over a hundred years?"

"Don't young men like you prefer an older woman?"

"What?"

Another chuckle.

"You don't seem to have a clue what's going on."

"I-I don't."

The woman slowly let's her fur coat glide off her shoulders. Her black top is decorated with some lace around her cleavage. The straps show of her naked shoulders. She rests her chin on her hand.

"I will make this night the best of your life."

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Her smile seems a little warmer now then before.

"Come closer."

She motions you with a finger to step towards her. You do so. Her boot is right next to your leg now.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?"

You blush as you shake your head. The woman reaches out. Before you can react, she traces the outlines of your dick with a finger over your jeans.

"Virgins are always the best ones. They are so eager to please."

It seems like she said that to herself.

"Let me see that cock of yours."

She has been staring at it, but is now looking up at you.

"W-What?"

"Come on,boy. Take it out for me."

You gulp. Her voice has become a little deeper. More seductive.

As you open your jeans, you realize that you don't have a choice. As if she is making you do it.

Your pants drop. And a second later, your underwear does the same. The cold air makes you shiver as you are now completely naked from the waist down.

"Not bad."

The woman let's her fingertips dance over your length. You jerk away at first. Her hand is warmer than you expected. It's almost hot.

"What is that? Six inches?"

You nod as she wraps her hand around your cock. As she slowly starts to stroke you, you feel yourself harden.

Your desire to fuck her slowly starts to rise. You were scared at first. But it seems like she really wants this.

"What do you think about making it a little bigger?"

"W-What?"

There is that melodic chuckle again.

"Don't worry. It will only benefit you in the future."

You hesitate before you nod.

Your core starts to heat up and you see your dick starting to grow very slowly. In length and in girth. Six inches become seven, then eight and then nine.

"That's more like it."

The woman stops stroking you. She sticks her tongue out, letting it swirl around your tip.

You groan. You never felt this before.

Her lips slowly wrap around you. Your dick feels heavier than before. She looks up at you as she starts to suck you off. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your shaft as she slowly takes more.

The woman retreats while stroking you again.

"And you taste good, too."

She winks, before sliding your cock into her mouth once more. The warmth heats up your whole body. Her saliva starts to coat your dick as she keeps sliding down your length.

You slowly start to enter her throat. You can feel it by the way her walls tighten around you. There is more friction now. She doesn't stop though. She keeps going and going.

Your eyes are wide in surprise and pleasure. You did watch some videos before, but none of the women were able to do it this easily. Especially without gagging. But for her it seems like a piece of cake.

You slide further down her throat. How is she taking all of that? She looks up at you, when she finally reaches your base. Your whole cock is inside her mouth and throat. Her walls massage your cock as she breaths, making you a little dizzy. How does this feel so good?

You see her using a finger to point at her throat. You crook your head the side. A visible bulge has formed in her throat. A familiar tug starts to build up in your core as you watch her place her hand on her own throat.

You feel the pressure of her hand as she pushes against her throat a little. Needing to tighten your grip on the flashlight you are holding, you try to hold it in. You don't want to cum so fast.

Your head starts to spin as she slowly retreats. Inch after inch leaves her throat and mouth. It's all covered in a thick layer of saliva.

"Does that feel good?"

Her question and her voice sound so innocent. As if she didn't just swallow your whole cock. You nod as she strokes your spit covered cock slowly.

"I think it's time to repay the favour."

She kisses your tip with her plump lips, before standing up.

"Get on your knees for mommy."

You are surprised by her calling herself mommy. And yet it does seem kinda fitting. You do as she says, kneeling down on the stairs.

The woman steps a step down, now standing almost directly above you. You are able to look underneath her black mini skirt. Her black panties have a golden miniature bell in the front.

"You have never eaten pussy, have you?"

You shake your head. You have seen it in the videos though.

"Stick out your tongue."

Once again, you feel as if you don't have choice. Before you can think about it, your tongue already leaves your mouth.

"Such a good boy."

She murmurs, while reaching out with her hand that's decorated with the big ring. Her finger slowly glides over your tongue. You feel it tingle a little, until she removes her finger.

"That should do."

The woman cups your cheek, while looking into your eyes.

"Now eat out mommy."

You reach underneath her skirt. Feeling the light fabric in your hands, you start to pull down her panties. The small bell jingles a little. It's barely audible.

You slide her panties down her legs. When you reach her boots, you fumble around a little, trying to get them over the white material. The fact that there is blood on them has already become unimportant to you.

Once they hit the floor, she steps out of them and kicks them aside. You straighten your back, now able to reach her pussy with your mouth. You are about to have your first taste, when you suddenly feel her hand in your hair. She pulls you back.

"You can't just go in there, honey. You have to start slowly."

You do as she says. You kiss her skin right above her right knee, before switching to the left. Slowly, you make your way up her creamy thighs. Her smooth skin tastes quite good. Not something you expected.

You become hungrier with every second. She sighs as you close in on her pussy, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Now that you are going slower, you can take a good look at her center.

Her pink pussy is hidden behind her folds, her clit barely peeking out. She is cleanly shaven, the skin just as smooth as her legs. You can see her lips glisten with arousal after your exploration of her thighs.

"Oh damn!"

She moans as you swipe your tongue through her folds. You have never done this before. And yet, your seem to know what you are doing. Or rather, your mouth knows what it's doing. It must be because of that thing she did with your tongue. A spell or something.

You begin to eat out the black haired woman. Moan after moan starts to spill from her lips. You push your tongue inside her pussy. Then, you swipe across her clit, drawing different shapes.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have given you this ability."

Her knees buckle as she gets overwhelmed by your new found skills. She has to hold onto your hair for support. You feel the wide sleeve of her fur coat rest on your head.

"Hold onto my waist."

You do as she says, holding her underneath the coat. Her skin feels a little warmer underneath your hands now.

"What a good boy."

She sighs and you can feel her, throwing her head back in bliss.

"You wanna make mommy cum, don't you?"

As if your body knows what to do to increase her pleasure, you nod. Because your mouth is still attached to her snatch, you make the woman's legs buckle again. The new sensation almost too much for her.

You feel her pussy becoming wetter as you feast on it. No spot stays untouched as you make sure to drive this unknown woman to her orgasm.

"Eat my pussy like the toy you are."

Her voice has become more sultry again as she nears her climax. Her grip on your hair becomes stronger. You feel her nails dig into your scalp.

"Mommy is gonna cum!"

She loudly announces her orgasm.

You keep up your work as she starts to cum. Her juices flood your tongue as she cums in your mouth. Her thighs close instinctively, trapping your head between them. Your face is pressed further against her pussy as she pulls at your hair.

You hear the woman breath heavily as she starts to come back to her senses. She parts her legs again, but doesn't loosen her grip on your hair. She pushes your head out of her pussy and makes you look up at her.

"You want to become a man?"

Her question sends shivers down your spine. You have never done this before. Especially not with a woman who seems to be supernatural.

But you know that the answer is yes.

She can see it in your eyes, her smile urging you on.

After letting go of your hair, she leans against the wall to your right. One foot on the step you are kneeling on, the other one step above.

"Come here then. Treat me like a man would treat me."

You almost jump to your feet, unable to hide your excitement. Standing right in front of her, you place your feet on the same steps like she did. She is a little smaller than you and yet, her pussy is on the perfect hight for your cock, due to her heels. It's tip grazes against her lower lips already.

"Put it in."

She whispers as she slings her arms around your neck.

"Take me."

You look down, as you start to part her folds. For the first time in your life, you start to penetrate a woman's most intimate area.

Her walls squeeze your cock tightly as you push forward. You go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She bites her lip as she looks up at you.

"Give me all of it. All of your cock."

You feel her pussy molding around you as you penetrate her further. As if her cunt is reshaping itself to fit your cock like a tight sleeve.

You groan as you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck. That's a good boy."

She bites your earlobe slightly, before whispering in your ear.

"Put your hands on my hips. And then, fuck me. Fuck me good."

You place your hands on her sides once more as you nod.

"That's good!"

You see her closing her eyes as you slowly pull out. Her pussy seems to try to keep you inside as you struggle to even pull out half of your cock.

You push back inside, making the woman lean her head against the wall.

"Faster, boy."

You do as she says, finally convinced you are not able to hurt her like this.

Your thrusts become faster and stronger. Her wetness makes a little easier to slide in and out.

More lewd words and moans are thrown your way as you start to actually fuck her. You nail her against the wall with every thrust, before you retreat. Then, you pull her body towards you as you thrust forward, pinning her against the wall yet again.

You keep your steady pace. Her moans increase in volume as she feels your cock hit the right spot deep inside her body.

"That's it. Pound your mommy like a good toy."

You fuck her harder. You pull her forward harsher, before slamming her against the wall.

The longer you keep fucking this woman, the longer your primal desires take over. You care less and less about your surroundings. You only care about her. Her and her pussy.

How rough you are with her doesn't matter anymore. You have to take from her as much pleasure as you can. Use her body to make yourself cum.

The woman seems to have sensed the change of your nature.

"That's it, boy. "

She moans into your ear.

"Fuck me like the slut I am. Use my hole until you cum."

You let out a groan as you think about cuming. You realize that you are lasting longer than ever before. When you do this on your own, it usually takes just a few minutes. But you feel like you have been fucking her four half an hour. Maybe that's another thing that changed, when she made your dick grow.

"Pound me with that cock of yours. I want to feel all your cum on my face."

Her words make you want to step up your game. You feel her increasing wetness as her juices slowly dribble out of the connection between your bodies.

"Fuck. You're gonna make mommy cum again."

You groan, close to your own orgasm as well. You don't know if you can survive her climaxing around your cock. Her pussy is already incredibly tight.

"Yes! Make mommy cum around that big cock of yours!"

You strengthen the grip on her hips, trying to use it to thrust into her just a little harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You almost scream as well as you feel her orgasm. Her walls tighten around you, trying to milk you. Her nails scratch at the back of your neck. Lewd sounds leave her mouth, which is dangerously close to your ear. Her legs buckle.

You stop thrusting, giving her time to regain her composure. It takes her a couple of moments.

Once she has come down, she looks at you hungrily.

"Increasing your length and stamina was a good call."

She traces your jawline with a finger.

"But the best feature is your cum. From now on, you will drown every woman in cum."

"What?"

You are too stunned to speak. Partially because you are still trying to recover as well, while her pussy is still hugging you tight. You believe she is exaggerating.

"You don't trust me?"

Her hand wanders to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You suddenly feel her pussy tighten around you. You can't believe she is able to adjust the size of her cunt. She squeezes you, making your cock twitch inside of her. You feel overwhelmed as she pulls at your hair at the same time. Her pussy is almost painfully tight by now.

"I trust you. I trust you!"

You sigh as you feel her releasing her grip. Both around your cock and on your hair.

"A toy doesn't question it's mommy. Understood?"

You nod.

"Good. Now be a good boy and cum on my face."

She pushes you away, making you slowly glide out of her pussy.

You watch her sit down on the stairs, like she did as you first saw her.

"Your cock looks so tasty with all my cum on it."

She takes you into her mouth, making you groan. Her lips wrap around you, her cheeks hollow. You feel her tongue dance along your cock, teasing and edging you. There is no way you are going to last much longer.

As the woman sucks you off again, you feel a tug in your stomach. It's a little stronger than it usually is. Maybe because you actually had sex? Or because you have more cum? You don't know. But it feels so good.

She doesn't even need to take your entire length down her throat again. Her lips have reached the middle of your cock as you feel yourself twitching.

Her eyes are wide with lust, demanding you to cum right now.

You can't hold back. A new kind of rush fills your system.

The first shot of cum hits the back of her throat, before she is able to react. She moves her head away, pointing your cock towards her face with one hand.

You have to hold onto the steel banister as you start to paint her face. Rope after rope of cum covers her perfect skin. Some lands on her lips. More lands on her closed eyelids, making them visibly heavier. It's dripping down her forehead, while the hair that frames her face is coated in cum as well.

But it still doesn't stop. You give her so much, that it starts to drop down from her chin. She tries to save it by opening her mouth and letting her tongue roam around. But a second after her mouth is opened, it's almost overflowing with your cum already. She has to gulp it down, preventing herself from choking and suffocating as more and more runs down her throat.

Once you finally finish cuming, you almost don't even dare to look at her.

Her whole face is covered by a thick layer of white, sticky cum. She can only open her eyes halfway, the cum on her eyelids weighing them down.

"What did I tell you?"

She chuckles, before she starts to lap up your cum from her face. Not just with her tongue, but her finger as well.

"This is even more than I expected. Probably because this was your first time."

You are unable to respond, still trying to comprehend what has happened in the last hour. For some reason her cum covered face turns you on again. The desire, to use her body, from earlier is slowly coming back.

When she looks up at you, you see her licking her finger for the last time. Her face is mostly cleaned up.

She seems to sense your new found desire. A smile forms around her lips.

"That's right, boy. You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

You nod hesitantly.

"You can't take your eyes off me. You want to feel every part of my body underneath your hands."

You nod again. Her words make your cock hard.

"I still have some time, before my husband comes home."

"W-What?"

You didn't even think about the possibility of her being married.

"Don't worry about him. He never pays attention to me anyways."

She reaches forward, letting her hand stroke your cock again.

"I'm always trying to teach boys like you something new. But I've already given you my mouth and my pussy."

She kisses the tip of your cock, her eyes a little darker.

"There is one more hole of mine that you can use. Make my ass cum. And maybe I will se you again after tonight."

The man on his throne laughs as he looks at the flames. His red body is glistening with sweat, screams of fear echo in the distance. Through the flames, he watches you stand behind his wife, aligning your cock with her rear entrance.

"You always corrupt the good ones."

He laughs to himself, his voice raspy and dark.

As you push inside of her, he can hear her moan, telling you to cum in her ass later.

Satan grins as he stands up, ready to punish the sinners that are burning in hell.

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

Hi everyone!

Enjoy this interlude. It wasn't planned at all, but after seeing SuA's Instagram post..... What am I supposed to say?

Hope you guys like the concept.

I'm excited for the new album.

Have a nice day!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #kim bora #bora

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

Note

"i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me." + rin for the ask game !!! ily aali ❤️

☆༉ — RIN ITOSHI: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me. ❜

extension. fleshlight/sub!rin itoshi, gn!reader + nsfw/mdni 18+.

things to note. sorry this took so long, i got very distracted and psychoanalysed rin for smut… again lol !! enjoy !!

rin has always been bad at communicating.

one could say that his stagnant ability to get his needs across is down to the rocky relationship the pro player has with his eldest and only brother. he finds it difficult to speak his mind and match words to emotions — whenever he tries it’s like someone has stuffed cotton down his throat acting as a blockage that physically prevents him doing the one thing he needs to make the human connections he’s craving.

except with you. you make things easy. you provide rin with the space to feel his way through experiences without chastising him where he goes wrong or turning your back on him like sae once did. the younger itoshi has learned a lot from you that makes him, in his own way, want to try — want to please you by trying and talking through his thoughts and feelings.

just like you’re doing right now.

“how does it feel for you, baby?” you say with pride, a smile full of both pity and adoration splays across your face — your expression fond. it’s always a surprise to rin, how easily fondness and tenderness come to you when you put him in a position to sin.

the way you’d gotten rin into this very same and compromising position, his legs spread wide and back pressed against your plush bed, had been too quick for him to comprehend. you’re a picture perfect vision between his milky but toned thighs, the sight of you there makes his cock pulse to life — his pink tip shiny with a layer of precum that dribbles pathetically against his skin.

he wonders how it’s so easy for you to get him like this, lazily pumping his aching shaft through the squishy sillicon flesh light. when you’d first brought it home, the younger itoshi brother was completely against the idea of using it, but to this day he often finds himself forcing himself to push through his shyness and ask you to use it on him. of course, no amount of lube and ribbed rubber could replace how you feel, but it doesn’t mean rin doesn’t enjoy the way you torture him with the toy.

you press white hot kisses to rin’s pelvis, dragging your tongue along his body in the shape of your name as if to ink your claim on him and push apart the apex of his thighs to spread the soccer player further. the action has an embarrassing amount of heat flashing through rin, frying his nerve endings and burning away his resolve until he growls down at you impatiently.

a look of disappointment flashes across your face but disappears just as quickly as it came. his chest tightens. “use your words, baby.” you coach rin through the frustration that lingers in a thick fog across his brain. his bulbous and blistering cockhead peaks through the clear toy and you spit down onto it, using your thumb to rub the frothy mix through his slit with hungry eyes.

“fuck,” rin breathes shallowly, cursing from above you. he feels like he’s on fire, melting from the inside out and even you swear that you see red swirling in his aquamarine eyes. his chest rises and falls rapidly, moving so fast that he thinks his heart might burst and you’ve barely touched him.

leaning down, your lips graze over his tip this time, their plumpness mapping out its sensitive layer of skin. on instinct, rin’s hips buck forward to push his gooey cock against the seam of your lips, coating them a layer of his salty-sweet arousal. “breathe baby,” you remind him in a whisper as rin flinches at the contact. you give the base of the flashlight a squeeze and another gentle grin illuminates over your face, rin fighting back a high pitched and dreamy moan just as his head hits the pillow with a dull thud. “deep breath and try again for me, i know you can do it.”

the soccer player does as you ask, inhaling deeply and filling his lungs with fresh air despite simultaneously fighting back tears. “feels,” he manages through the thick ardour clinging to the ridges of his throat, swallowing down the lump there. rin runs his fingers through the sweaty locks matting to his forehead and tries to gather his thoughts over the sound of his slick dick being jerked to high heavens in your warm hand. “good, really good. hah, i-i’m—“

testing the waters, you kitten lick at rin’s tip every time he languidly fucks it through his special toy. eventually, you take him into the wet cavern of your mouth, allowing his precum to pour against your tongue like an erotic flash flood. “good boy, rin. thank you for telling me,” you say, pulling off of him to catch your breath. “you know i love it when you tell me how you feel.”

he replies with somewhat of a desperate gargle, throwing an arm over his face as it flushes pink at the praise. “i love you.” he bleats.

“i know, baby. i love you too,” your hand speeds up, mostly coated in heavy and clear strings of rin’s precum and the lube from his flesh light. he looks so fucking pretty like this, shiny with sweat as hot salty liquid slips down the apples of his cheeks. “you always try your hardest for me rin. makes me so proud. makes me wanna look after you. i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.”

taking note of how rin grits his teeth, you fist what you can’t fit, between your fingers, and take a mouthful of him him once more — letting him fuck the soft epithelium on the inside of your cheeks. rin chokes on his wails and whines, feeling a familiar pressure build up in his core the more you sloppily make out with his cock and jerk him off with the soiled flesh light.

“i-i can’t,” he stutters, barely holding himself together through his sniffling. “i can’t…”

after crawling over rin’s shaky frame, you pry his hands away from his face — cooing down at his puffy eyes and mussed up hair, not daring to let up on pumping his creamy cock through the flesh light. “yes you can,” you goad attentively, finding his lips — using your teeth to tug his bottom lip away from him before capturing him in a messy, mouth watering kiss. rin whimpers at the taste of himself on you, bitter and slightly sweet, angling his head up to kiss you better. “you can do it baby, i’ve got you.” you purr hotly.

he laps into your mouth, rolling his tongue over yours in the most eager way you’ve ever seen him, working with you to swallow your pleased moans while you take on his pathetic laments. “‘m gonna…” rin slurs over the saliva that weighs down his tongue and ties to the roof of his open mouth as you palm him harder, faster — the crude mix of his precum, your spit and lube from the flesh light slinging around your knuckles. “f-fuck… gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum!”

“that’s right, baby, let go for me. cum for me, rin.” you command with a delicate air, your voice low and loving. that’s all it takes for the walls that rin has built up to come tumbling down, reaching his high. he cums hard and with a whiny shout that you coach him through, painting your hand with viscous hot layers of white that spurts from his ravaged, bright red cockhead. “oh wow, you came so much, baby. s’this all for me?”

“now you’re pushing it.” finally coming down from his orgasm, rin finds himself too weak to push you away despite his embarrassment — allowing you to pamper and fawn over him like you always do. he doesn’t hate it, nor will he admit how adored you make him feel. “thank you.” he mumbles quietly, warmly.

blinking up to meet his tropical ocean eyes, you cock your head to the side — effectively distracted from cleaning rin up. “for what, honey?”

“taking care of me,” rin states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. his cheeks burn red. “or whatever.”

“don’t be silly,” you say, “i’ll always take care of you. my baby.”

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alicerosejensen · 7 months

Text

Another you

Warning: reader mutation (c-virus), angst, blood, slight aggression, acquired albinism, fem/reader (not an agent, an ordinary civilian who worked at the museum), Leon has plot armor, more narration than dialogue, the text contains an antagonist like Simmons (male character), Ada is helping Leon again, relatively happy ending.

Synopsis: You didn’t want to change, you loved him, just as he loved you, but against your will, your love turned into hatred and animal anger towards him. However, Leon still hopes that you will remember him...

A/N: This is probably my biggest work. Tumblr told me to fuck off a few times while editing, but I came out victorious in the fight, although I had to re-write the text into the draft a few times because Tumblr for some damn reason published it without my knowledge. I hope feedback if anyone liked it, because I have been burning with this idea for a long time!

The text also contains an excerpt from Byron's poems (I adore him)

He promised himself first of all that nothing would happen to you. That his work won't affect you in any way and you won't get hit by the corporate bastards, and you really didn't. However, something else happened...

But people whom Leon loves or simply cares about tend to leave or even die.

Everything was fine with you. Ideal in his imperfect life and you were this perfection that he valued and protected. A prudent person would not keep an expensive diamond in front of everyone, so Leon did not scatter information about you and who you are to him. You were loved and dear to him more than all the treasures of the world, he appreciated your tenderness towards him and kindness, because it was you who helped him get out of the hole of despondency in which he buried himself. His personal little guardian angel. Still, he has something to continue his fight against bioterrorism.

A normal working day, except that the museum where you work was supposed to host an exhibition of some very expensive collection for which you were so carefully preparing, forgetting about yourself. It seemed to Leon that you were burning with enthusiasm and love for the work you were doing, which made you walk around too excited, forgetting about food, so he had to remind you to eat. This exhibition had no meaning for Kennedy, but he did not belittle your efforts thrown into this preparation, especially since you were so happy that you were incessantly talking about all these paintings, historical activities depicted on them and objects: a pendant with a strand of hair of some queen - you explained to him that this is a symbol of affection that was previously used It's like you're giving a piece of yourself to your giver, a kind of connection with a loved one, but this is just one of the meanings of such a peculiar gift. Silk fans, a clock, a desk, some items of clothing that, in Leon's opinion, were very strange and he was just glad that fashion had moved far ahead.

Although he could interpret all this in one word: beautifully.

And you were beautiful too. He would have liked to spend more time with you, but you were completely absorbed in your work, and he was overwhelmed with paperwork that he couldn't stand, but anyway, at least he could come back to you and listen to excited speeches and new facts that he didn't know anything about and would hardly remember if he told him about it someone else.

And everything went to hell when there was another outbreak, less global, but most importantly - human lives. And yours.

He was trying to save you, even if someone else had survived this exhibition, he would still have saved you first and not someone else. Mini Raccoon City, that's what he called it, making his way with you to the emergency exit while you kept up with him on your heels, because today you were supposed to shine and glow and not cry with fear looking at the pale corpses of history and art lovers. The light from Leon's flashlight illuminated a small part of the space while you walked quietly thinking about Leon's words, "I wonder how much time we have before they get up?"

"Were they poisoned?" you assumed, because how could you kill such a huge number of people without weapons. Leon, watching the ventilation grilles in the rooms, suggested in his head only one quick way.

"It must be gas,"

But then you would both have died too, you decided, but you did not voice your thought, because shortly before the tragedy you were invited to discuss something by the sponsor of this exhibition. A man who managed to collect so many magnificent things with a rich history. The man who gave you flowers and flirted with you from the day you first met, despite the fact that you made it clear to him that you were not interested in any relationship with him, except for work.

However, Leon also remained silent when he saw the luxurious bouquet of scarlet roses on your work table, which filled your entire small office with their aroma. But right now that simply wasn’t the main thing. He needed to get you out of the mess that happened, and then ask about flowers from rich strangers.

You walked slowly, trying not to make any noise or cry behind him while you clung to his jacket, partially managing to wonder why Leon's gun was with him when he had no reason to carry a gun. All this, of course, was secondary, given how stress, coupled with imagination, turned the exhibits into various frightening figures that frightened, made you scream, thinking that the fallen armor, which was probably simply poorly secured to the stand was another dead man. I didn’t even want to think about what happened in the exhibition hall, much less imagine. Leon had to take you by the hand and at times drag you along with him because the panic really aggravated everything, he was afraid that you would start to go hysterical, but it seems that despite the periodic stupor, you kept yourself well under control, exactly until the moment when Leon’s flashlight went out, leaving you in pitch darkness.

“Leon?” you called out anxiously, feeling noisy ragged breathing behind your back. Was this what Leon was talking about? Until recently, you hoped that his words were just another stupid joke and the dead do not rise, but here behind you is the living embodiment of a nightmare who is ready to grab your neck and feast on warm flesh. Have time to scream? You didn’t even have time to fully scream when a strong grip grabbed you by the shoulder and roughly threw you to the side from the line of danger because you fell, hitting your thigh on the marble tiles, after which a series of deafening shots and the muffled groan of a dead man was heard, three bullets or maybe be more? You didn't count.

As if in slow motion on a large screen, it was impossible to take your eyes off what you saw. All sounds died down, leaving the silence of your own mind and the smell of blood.

All you could do was watch how the beam of light from the flashlight shines directly on the corpse and how Leon’s hands are trying to bring you to your senses, because you knew the one whom he had just completely killed. Richard, your colleague with whom you had coffee this morning and discussed the latest news, sometimes often joked at lunch... was now dead and you were crying without knowing it. Tears just flow uncontrollably from your eyes even as Leon wipes your face with his thumbs, trying to lift you off the floor and make you go outside.

“Come on, sweetheart, I know it’s hard but we have to go"

"I... I can't... why here?" You ask more into the void than from him

“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here.” Leon grabs you under the armpits, helping you get to your feet, dragging you towards the exit.

Better yet, this would all just be a nightmare. The noise from the shots makes you cover your ears with your hands while Leon once shoots people, at the same time trying to protect the slow-moving you. They scream, moan, attack and you feel like you are in a horror film with high-quality special effects and good acting, but you realize, albeit reluctantly, that all this is not a joke but an evil reality where Leon almost at the very exit asks you to pull yourself together and you don’t even you can stand on your feet. Before your eyes, everything collapsed and the world went crazy, trying to grab you with it.

"I can't... can't... I'm so scared..." your hands grab Leon and he hugs you to him, which only makes you want to cry harder and ask him to do the impossible - to return everything to the way it was. He hugs you tightly, kissing you on the top of your head, giving at least some reassurance given the fact that he has always tried to protect the little that he loves from his work, but you accidentally found yourself in the epicenter and your reaction is quite expected.

"Everything will be fine, please look at me," he asks in a soft tone, lifting your head and forcing you to look into his eyes, "It will be difficult, I do not know what is happening outside and what kind of virus it is, but you must not leave me alone. I shoot, and you stand behind me or hide if I tell you to. If you see a dead person, don't you dare approach him!"

"Is it like this everywhere?"

Leon didn't quite understand if you were talking about the whole city or just the upcoming race, in any case, he only nodded briefly, giving you a little more time to catch your breath while you listened to the rapid pounding of the heart in his chest. He was afraid too.

It could have tried better. You really pulled yourself together, but after contacting Hunnigan, Leon exhaled for a second, saying that the virus had not spread so far and in fact the appropriate measures had already been taken, she sent the two of you to the evacuation point where doctors could examine you and give you a vaccine injection in case it really was gas, as Leon said, which logically you were both breathing anyway. So the virus could have entered your body, the scariest thing you reasoned while you were following him, is that you are both alive by a lucky chance, because if Leon had not been attacked by an attack of tenderness, it would probably have been the last day of his life. You no longer even thought about the fact that that sponsor called you somewhere... Emerick. You smiled when you remembered that Leon called him a high-dimensional asshole, but he probably became a victim like everyone else, so there's no need to speak ill of him.

You thought that because you didn't think he was a bad person. You and Emerick had common topics of conversation, he knew a lot and he had a rich collection of rare things bought from auctions for a lot of money, besides, as he himself said, much of what he actually has was inherited in his family, which made you think that he probably was some kind of hereditary noble. His manners were really perfect.

It took about an hour before Leon left you in a quiet place. There were only zombies outside and a few survivors who, no matter how hard Leon tried, still couldn't help. They always died in front of his eyes, even now leaving a sense of guilt in his soul, because he should protect and not kill, but now this is the best thing he can offer them to the infected. Wide windows on the third floor of a God-forsaken warehouse protected from enemies and if you believe Ingrit, then this is the C-Virus that Neo-umbrella created, not so old, but in the terrorist market, in fact, it is already junk.

"At least there are no cocoons and lepoticas, otherwise I would have big problems"

You were sitting on the crates risking tearing your nylon tights while Leon was talking via video link on his work smartphone, waiting for his colleague Ingrit from F.O.S to plot the safest route to the plane that should pick you two up. Leon thought you were safe with him. You just sit quietly next to him trying to catch your breath while he does the main work and he was really calm until you screamed sharply falling off the box, forcing him to turn to you when he saw you holding your neck.

The phone immediately fell to the floor.

"What happened? Are you in pain?!"his eyes widened as he pulled out the dart that was the cause of everything. "Baby, can you hear me?! Everything will be fine, hold on!"

There was no one in the window. By the way, there was no time to search for the culprit. Thoughts were flying crazily in his head, Leon picked you up in his arms, hiding you behind drawers so that you would not get into anyone else's lens, noticing how quickly your breathing becomes shallow.

Was it a new virus or an improved one from before? You curled up crying from what seemed like your organs were turning into a burning cauldron causing hellish pain that made you moan loudly.

"Hunnigan! I need a vaccine, urgently! Where's the damn helicopter?!" Ingrit shot up for a moment. The women's painful moans in the background were ready to make Leon burst into tears and she was almost sure that tears were stuck in the corners of his eyes.

"It will take time to figure out what it is..."

"There's no time!" he shouted into the phone. Ingrit's fingers immediately clicked on the keyboard.

You sobbed. The bones seemed to melt, which made you literally lie on the concrete floor until Leon shifted you onto his lap, feeling your body temperature rise from normal to high.

That's probably why you threw up and blood gushed out of your nose. Your heart was pounding wildly, you didn't hear Leon screaming in panic, hugging your body to him, realizing that if you don't inject the serum soon, then everything will be over. You're dying, but Leon's brain refuses to accept it when he picks you up in his arms trying to save you because with your death, life won't make sense to him.

"You're not going to die!" the words expressed through clenched teeth echo in the spacious building as Leon picks you up in his arms and carries you outside in time. "Everything will be different"

He couldn't let this happen again. It was as if everything was being repeated again from hell to hell, only now in Helena’s place he is himself and he definitely won’t have enough strength to put a bullet in your forehead, and if he does... then he’ll shoot himself too.

Every minute was precious and if it weren’t for the infected, Leon would have instantly reached the right place and injected you with the serum, but luck was not on his side again, just like on the first day of work in Raccoon City. You were heating up so much that he could feel the heat emanating from your body, even through your clothes. Once the virus enters the human body, the incubation period varies for everyone: Deborah Harper lasted two hours before she mutated, for some it takes about a couple of minutes, even God himself does not know how much time is measured for you.

Having reached the helipad, Leon cursed everything in the world since the helicopter was not even visible anywhere. The situation was clearly not going in your favor. You again let out a painful groan, feeling like your body was literally burning and your head hurt so much that you wanted to be hit with a huge hammer. Leon stroked your back, holding you close to him. God, your temperature was already colossally high!

"Just a little more, be patient, honey" Leon doesn't believe it, he wants to, but he can. You scream and cry, trying to tear off your skin with your nails just to make this heat go away. He would like to change places with you, it would be better if he were dying now and not you, and not so monstrously.

The virus flows through the veins, attacks all defense mechanisms, mercilessly rebuilding the entire body in a new way, creating an aggressive weapon out of a person capable of mass murder without any remorse. Leon's affection does not destroy you, right now it is the only way to save yourself, but even if by some miracle an active medicine fell on your head, what is the chance that it saved you? The probability of healing, even with side effects, tends to be no more than 5-7%.

"D-don't want to d-die"

A pitiful groan, through the agony of pain you see Leon’s crying eyes, the skin peels off unnaturally under the influence of high temperature, but this is not visible under the clothes, but face...

"No no no no!"

Leon fell to the ground from your sharp push, but immediately jumped to his feet, running up to you after a wild, painful cry. Just one second and the body was suddenly engulfed in a flash of fire, turning the flesh into a hardened cocoon. You are gone.

It was all over.

Leon sees double. It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this! The gun is lying somewhere a couple of meters away, having fallen out of the holster when you pushed it away from you, and if this was a standard work situation, Leon would have tried to quickly run up to it or pick up the Sentinel Nine, but his hand did not rise. His knees hit the concrete floor painfully, along with the realization that he had lost again. The hard cocoon transforms the caterpillar inside itself into a beautiful butterfly, which is destined to fly, but Leon knows that everything human in you has burned out and only a monster will hatch from this cocoon, at best only vaguely reminiscent of you, so maybe it’s better to just tear it apart and then let him go on his own a bullet for himself?

The rain continues to pour, gradually calming down. The guys from B.S.A.A are already somewhere down there clearing the city of the infected and saving the survivors because there is a vaccine, there are ways to destroy the trash that Neo-Umbrella created. The sounds of gunshots mix with a frenzied rumble in his heart, which is why Leon doesn't want to hear anything anymore, preferring instead to stretch out his hands to your still warm cocoon, where some movement is already visible. Watching this, Leon was ready to miss even the deafening sound of the helicopter, but the light made him close his eyes and lift his head up.

Even without looking closely, he immediately realized that it was not the helicopter that Hunnigan had sent.

For the sake of love, people really do the most cruel things.

Leon immediately realized who was behind all this when the helicopter landed and several armed men jumped out of it, their faces hidden by masks. He slowly got to his feet, looking at the culprit of his suffering, dressed in a snow-white suit, with an impudent grin that Kennedy remembered from the beginning of the evening, when everything was still fine. Leon could have sworn that he had never felt such rage before, although a painful scream stuck in his throat.

No one pointed a gun at him. Everyone just froze, waiting for something.

"It's a small world, Mr. Kennedy," he said, waving to one of his assistants, and he and two mercenaries pulled a cryogenic capsule out of the plane. "But it was stupid to think that a man like you would die from a bunch of mindless zombies. I must admit, I didn't want to go to extreme measures until the last moment, I liked today's event, but because of you, I had to cancel everything. I've lost most of my collection"

"So it was you after all…" Leon muttered through his teeth, not yet grabbing the gun, realizing the risks. He is alone in the open space - a wonderful target. "I didn't see your corpse in the museum."

"A distraction," he explained, watching the capsule's preparation from the corner of his eye.

Emerick… Leon suddenly remembered how you recently confessed to him that he began to take care of you by giving you flowers, then inviting you for a cup of coffee, listening to music or general topics of which there were too many. But in the end, when the attentions began to exceed the standard amount, hinting at something more, you refused him, saying that you already have someone. You didn't notice, but Leon has been catching his obsessive glances at you all evening… How sometimes you looked at the exhibits behind the glass case, which you can not touch, despite the ban.

But you didn't even choose between the two of them. Leon always came first.

"For what?"

Emerick smiled as he looked at the cocoon and Leon's question disappeared by itself. Because of jealousy? Because a rich bastard couldn't get what he wanted, even with a giant bank account?

"You won't believe it, Mr. Kennedy, but for love. Death took away a dear person from me and I want to return what belonged to me, however, you will not understand this"

Leon grinned, clenching his fists.

"Why? Why her? If you wanted to take revenge on me, then you would have taken revenge on me and not on her!"

"Who said it was you?" asked Emerick, looking at his interlocutor as if he were an idiot. "For the most part, you just annoyed me like an annoying fly, but no more, although you encroached on something that does not belong to you."

Leon was about to answer and pounce despite the machine guns pointed at him, but the movement below and the sound of the cocoon tearing attracted all attention. He has seen it many times and your hand was reaching out to break free from the tight shackles of the past flesh, forcing its way out. Everyone is closely watching the birth of a new life, but only in the eyes of one of those present there was delight, not fear and regret. Leon couldn't bear it… He didn't understand what was wrong. The transformation was different.

"Happy birthday, Ada,"

A memory flashed through his mind.

History repeats itself. Only it turns out that besides Simmons, there is another bastard who looks like him in everything.

Leon reached out to you, as if trying to grab you, to help you get out and take you away from here. A brief moment of hope still lit up in my soul like a small smoldering flame, my mind seemed to be clouded, and yet deep inside there was a glimmer of awareness. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong while you were trying to get out, muffling all his annoying voices of caution. Wrong smell, wrong body color… Leon squints his eyes, the cocoon breaks and before he can grab your hand, he freezes.

The slimy, sticky naked body lying in front of him looked more like a white marble statue with a thin network of blue veins protruding under the skin. The mercenaries looked at each other, clutching their guns tighter but still not pointing them at you. The sight is really amazing. Leon comes up to you lying down, at first glance it seems lifeless, but looking closely, your chest quietly heaves and he kneels down again, pulling you to his shoulders, peering into familiar but still changed facial features.

There are no appendages behind the back, from which ugly claws protrude, no razor-sharp claws, no fangs. But instead, unnaturally pale skin and hair… the structure is thicker, and the color merges with the color of the body. The same discolored ones, but stuck together due to the transformation in the cocoon. You open your eyes a little, and instead of the usual iris, two red lights rush at him without a shadow of anger and aggression, just fatigue, something that Leon used to see when you stayed up late at work.

"And, when the grave restores her dead,

When life again to dust is given,

On thy dear breast I'll lay my head—

Without thee! where would be my Heaven?"

Ignoring the familiar lines of poetry, Leon remains silent when he gives him an order in a harsh voice.

"You won't understand," Leon has no doubt. He doesn't want to understand these motives. "You're not even worthy of the dirt under her nails, let alone touching her!"

Leon picks you up in his arms, turning to face Emerick, meeting with loaded guns.

"Did you infect her with the C-virus so that she would become your toy?"

"A toy?!" he snapped back.

Now it already looks like a confrontation between two men for the heart of one woman, almost a joust in modern realities in all its dirty manifestations and meannesses, but Leon does not feel the advantage. A fairy tale with a bad ending. One madman decided to use a virus to change the girl's memory and her appearance, making you the one who died a long time ago, and he…a brave man with a valiant heart who somehow thinks that even after death, Simmons is also connected with this. Even indirectly. Sold the idea of resurrecting someone else's personality in another person?

The rain is hitting your body in drops, and Leon wants to cover you, hide you, hoping that this is his second attempt. It seems that consciousness is returning to you, but you are still disoriented, not understanding who you are and what is happening. You became a part of the darkness that Leon carried on his shoulders.

"All for love," one wave of his hand, and the one standing behind him makes Leon bend painfully, crying out in pain, almost dropping you, his fingers dig into your skin, causing a barely audible moan from your mouth, but you are still snatched from his hands, carried into that capsule, after that, Emerick turns away from his opponent, putting something like an oxygen mask on you, stroking your cheek gently with his fingers.

"What the hell kind of love?!" Leon knows for sure that the other person is smiling even if he does not see it himself.

"You may not believe it, but I'm one-woman man, Mr. Kennedy. It took me a fortune to improve the C-virus so that it would affect her body without turning her into a vile insect-like creature. There was only one side effect after the final result - loss of pigmentation, but this is not significant, in all other respects it completely met my expectations. All THIS is for her sake."

"You sick... "

"No, I'm a heartbroken husband who lost his wife prematurely but now we will be reunited." Emerick looked at you lovingly before closing the capsule, which they began to load back into the helicopter. “And you, Mr. Kennedy, are just one of millions. You saw a work of art and decided to grped it when you had no right to do so. Someone like you will never understand her value, you were never able to give her everything she deserved!”

It’s hard to disagree when the muzzle of a machine gun is pressed to the back of his head, but Leon still fights as he watches the cryogenic capsule ahead being shoved back into the helicopter.

Adrenaline is pumping into his head and his palm is itching to get the second gun out of the holster, but Leon realizes one wrong move and this will be the finale in his story. You will drown in a pool of false memories, considering yourself the person you have never seen or known, you will begin to be called by another name, carrying antibodies to the improved C virus in your new body and you will give yourself into the arms of a man distraught from his loss, considering yourself his true love.

Leon walks on the edge, but now the feeling that a thin rope can throw him into the abyss, from where there is no return, feels more acute. If only Hunnigan's helicopter had arrived, but intuition suggested that the delay was caused not just by technical circumstances.

"Do you think you injected her with a virus and she will start to adore you? You gave her the power to smear you like a bug on the wall as soon as she wakes up." He does not know the properties of this virus and what abilities it can give, but experience suggests that minor adjustments in appearance and lack of pigment like albinos are not the whole potential obtained.

"You've dealt with many terrorists, but I'm not one of them, Mr. Kennedy," still pretending to politely hide his hatred for some American sharing a bed with his woman, whom he considered his own, Emerick retorts: "I don't want to turn people into monsters, although I don't want the world to be on fire, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices. This virus was tested on many before my trusted person injected it to her, and before using it, I tested it on many."

Leon clenches his teeth, glaring at Emerick, letting him finish. Truly, big money creates lawlessness.

"As I said, everything is for love"

But there is no love here. Just an obsession.

Emerick no longer intends to continue the conversation, sits back down in his seat in the helicopter next to the cryocapsule, again signaling his people to get rid of the last witness, besides, he no longer intends to dirty his hands, especially about someone like Kennedy. Although he may still have the desire to end Leon on his own, but looking back at the capsule, his lips are touched with a mocking smile. The project must be completed, and the finishing touches are always needed so that the creator can enjoy his creation.

"But so be it, I'll leave her memories of you. The most bitter and unhappy, she will remember you and be glad that I saved her from you. See, I can be generous even to those who don't deserve it."

"I will refuse your generosity."

The situation was turning into complete shit. Emerick probably hoped to clean up all traces of himself, which is why he left the mercenaries to clean up after him, while he himself rose into the air with a last contemptuous glance at Leon.

"I'll find you, you son of a bitch."

He'll find him and kill and then bring you back.

Fortunately, sometimes Leon has a guardian angel with a smoke bomb behind his back, covering him with shots from a crossbow bolt while Leon quickly pulls out his spare pistol, getting rid of the last two mercenaries. A familiar style and a familiar fragrance when the haze clears allowing you to see the savior in the flesh in his unchanging red outfit and Leon would even smile at her if the plane with you did not move away from him every second. Ada is the red queen of today who postponed the execution of her former lover, smiling at him gently and a little cunningly wondering how fate brings them together and separates their paths from time to time. Leon does not thank out loud, but words of gratitude to this woman who clearly spent her personal time on him still freeze in the air.

She looks at the remains of the cocoon, clutching the crossbow tighter, roughly imagining what could have happened, seeing Kennedy's wet eyelashes, although the rain could have been to blame for everything, which fortunately had already calmed down, as well as the noise outside, although occasionally groans and shots were heard in the distance. Today, her calculated accuracy saved him again.

"Long time no see, Leon" The velvety voice sounds soothing, but a little tired. In any case, Leon definitely owed her more than double the fare for his rescue.

A princess must have a knight in love to protect her from evil. In fairy tales, a kiss of love usually solves all problems, but what if the princess herself does not remember losing herself in the memories of her own and others? A suppressed personality cries out from the depths, not wanting to be forgotten, fighting with the one who took the pedestal and two names… two girls cannot merge into one, causing you only panic attacks and uncontrolled aggression, forcing the creator to believe that he is not so skilled even if he was filled with desire and endowed with money.

A charming man who calls himself your husband bends over her, holding out his hand decorated with antique rings to you, and you look at her with a puzzled look, pressing your back against the wall, trying to create distance between you. Because no matter how hard they tried to suppress your personality, but the feeling of uncontrollable fear, fused together with a new body, did not leave you, so you did not believe. Neither to him, nor to himself, nor to anyone else, and the dagger in the white palm hidden behind your back does not seem so heavy. The reaction is faster, the senses are heightened, and although the virus does not give the princess strength, you still resist, wounding your "husband", allowing scarlet drops of blood to bloom like roses on a white dress that has merged with the color of your skin.

Contrary to that, you have not become perfect, but you are still a passionate obsession for two men: one with pure thoughts and the other with a mad desire that has been tormenting him for a long time. It's hard to escape from the mansion, but thanks to heightened senses, it no longer seems impossible. However, it is even harder to ignore your true self, which screams and tears your head apart, as well as to separate two personalities from yourself.

You're confused. Not in luxurious rooms and corridors, but in yourself.

Something screams from the inside telling you to run away from here, and then it calms you that this place is your home, you know every corner here, every crack on the vase, these outfits in a separate dressing room tailored specifically for you, everything is familiar and at the same time alien. Your husband said that he saved you from a bastard named Leon, and after saying this name, the image of a blond man with beautiful blue eyes immediately stands in your eyes, but your heart overflows with rage, forcing you to tighten your grip on the dagger hilt.

You still have at least one sincere emotion, as you thought, however...

Leon is intently examining the analysis result from the remains of the cocoon that was sent to him. It really was what he was thinking, but Ada had already revealed a little secret to him.

"Maybe years will pass, and her real personality will somehow begin to manifest itself. I still don't know how Simmons fixed Carla's memory."

Leon puts the phone back in his pocket, looking at Ada with a slightly offended look, although she knows that he holds a grudge only against himself.

"But she's an exact copy of you," Leon reminded her, saying that when you pulled out of the cocoon, your face remained almost the same, yes, the features changed a little, but it was still you.

"But it will explain your new friend's obsession with your girlfriend," she chuckled, teasing him kindly, "If she looks so much like his dead wifey, then why would he change her appearance when they are almost identical to each other."

"And if it was an extreme measure, as he said... " Leon continues, scolding himself even more.

"You provoked him to infect her yourself. If he was hitting on her and she turned him down because of you, then it makes sense. Maybe if your girlfriend had been more mercantile and greedy for money, everything would have been without the virus."

However, was it Leon's fault or yours? Ada didn't blame anyone.

Leon may never guess at the ulterior motives, which may not have existed at all, but who else but she helped him again, however, leaving all the dirty work to Leon himself. After all, you were his concern, not hers. Although she followed you and your strange behavior a little, she finally sent him the coordinates of the place and your photo.

"I wish I could say that she remembered everything, but it seems that the virus did not affect her the way it was originally intended. Be careful, your beloved is a little aggressive."

Is it a consequence of the virus, or do you still remember who you are? Leon wants to believe in the latter when he collects equipment for the road, no longer hoping for anyone's help. But your new house looks more like one big clever trap and all the working staff have disappeared somewhere. In Leon's opinion, there should be more than one butler here, but there were no corpses either. Holding a gun at the ready, it was essentially a trespass on private property, but in the report he would later indicate that he was getting evidence. It won't be easy to find you, although you might make a little noise to attract his attention.

And you? You are sitting in a silent garden in the sweet scent of roses, standing out against the background of bright colors as a white spot, listening to the noise of the fountain, which still somehow calms you down after the last scuffle with your spouse. Alone, barefoot, you walk along a stone path, fingering strands of hair between your fingers, trying to compare in your head incomprehensible pictures from the past of two different people. You cannot love that person, for some reason you are afraid and angry at him despite his care. He took the knife away from you, letting you wander around the house like a ghost humming an annoying melody from his own past to himself, letting Emerick hope that manipulation and time will do their job. You hate Kennedy and that's been enough.

The support group is ready, but Leon still prefers to pick you up and then let the guys from the alliance work, having their own personal accounts in this matter. This could be the easiest capture of a terrorist in all his professional experience, but when his presence becomes known, the situation becomes complicated in the form of additional traps equipped with deadly devices and gas for which the anti-C vaccine is useless. In the end, Leon remains even without light and the flashlight does not save well. He looks into every room in an attempt to find at least some hint of your stay here after almost six months of absence.

And he finds in one of the inhabited rooms where only one bed occupies a quarter of the space. There is a beautiful comb with precious stones with traces of white hair on the dressing table, and Leon, picking up the jewelry, is sure that you are here somewhere, just like he is wandering among the dark corridors, although he really regrets that he did not find you in this room. However, another thought comes to his head when a thin lace pale pink negligee lying on the back of the sofa catches his eye… you only walked around in such things with him alone, and clutching the fabric in his hands, Leon can't help but think that Emerick slept with you in this bed.

The funny thing is that he's ready to forgive you everything now. He won't even remember that another man touched you afterwards because you're a victim and Leon, even if you don't remember him, wants you to at least return to a relatively normal life.

But the silence is suddenly cut short when a creak is heard behind, barely perceptible to the ear. A secret door? He does not turn around, freezing in one position, continuing to hold your negligee in his hands, feeling someone's sharp gaze on his back, but out of the corner of his eye catches a familiar silhouette, in the darkness of which two red eyes are burning.

You.

Leon tenses up. The sound of the blade breaks the silence, and your light tread turns into a sharp jerk as you rush at him with a sharp hairpin, hoping to plunge it deeper into his back. Your reaction may have improved, but Leon's reflexes are still faster, Kennedy dodges to the side, which causes you to fall directly onto your dressing table, knocking it over with you, forcing him to open his eyes in amazement.

"No, no, no, you couldn't turn into a monster," a thought runs through Leon's head.

The mirror breaks into many pieces and dig into your skin, causing the blood to contrast brightly on the light skin, which seems almost an unnatural sight. But through the pain, you hiss again trying to pounce on him, which causes Leon to fall on his back, rather out of surprise, managing to intercept your hand that aimed the clip directly at his eye. Pushing you away is not too big a problem, but the point is that you will still continue to throw at him and he does not want to use weapons at all.

"Bastard!" you growl, "Don't you like being hit back?"

"Stop, it's me!" he shouted, still holding your wrist so that you couldn't hurt him.

It was as if you hadn't heard. Leon pushed you away a little, hoping that being farther away would allow you to get to know him better, but what he didn't expect was for you to lash out at him over and over again, and honestly, if it were up to him, he would have removed the threat quickly, but it's hard to hurt someone you love. He'd had to kill Marvin and the President in the past, that in itself still weighs on his soul, but if he had to kill you… Deborah was easier. She was Helena's sister, not his, so his hand didn't shake when he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, but you're different. You're impossible to shoot at.

"Stop it!" he begs twisting your wrist so that you scream in pain and that scream tears his soul causing a lump in his throat. "It's not you! I beg yoy don't make me hurt you."

He doesn't even want to think about the estate being so deserted because of you. Leon still thinks it's just a virus, and somewhere inside you remember his, you just need to trigger it somehow. Ada said the virus affects you differently than it does Carla, but she didn't mention that you're aggressive to anyone who tries to touch you. Leon keeps his guard up, but despite your tight grip, you've apparently acquired some sort of ability that allowed you to break free and run down the hallway. He's not sure if you can throw people against the wall like baseballs, but your regeneration is enviable, because the only reminder of the wounds from the broken mirror on your body are drops of blood.

No abrasions.

So, after a little scuffle, as a result of which the antique dressing table is smashed to pieces along with all the bottles standing on it, Leon gets to his feet trying to figure out what the hell just happened. However, your trail has already disappeared. The house is huge, but despite this, Leon still puts the safety on the gun, afraid to instinctively shoot you if you attack him again. In hand-to-hand combat, you have little chance, but his reflexes can work faster than his brain. But abrasions and wounds a couple of centimeters deep, your body is able to regenerate itself. So cold steel will be the best thing, in case he meets other inhabitants of the estate besides you.

As already mentioned, the flashlight did not save the situation too much, of course, fanatics worked in some places, especially in the garden, but Leon did not find anything except small supplies, although his gut instinct encouraged him to pick up a gun to feel confident. But in the backyard, after several hours of searching among the marble statues and the damp fresh air that hit in the face, somewhere among the bushes in which some cautious movement is heard. It's like a wild cat sneaking up to its prey and Leon realizes - you're here!

Behind him again, so Leon straightens up. If it were daytime or even evening, he would have no problem finding you, but there is a starry night overhead. Rage is growing somewhere between your ribs, inside, but everything is different for him, because despite the internal contradiction, Leon is to some extent convinced that it is useless to fight with you.

There is nothing in his chest but regret and delayed words that he rarely said.

And yet at some point you look at each other continuously. You notice that he has only one knife in his hands, just like you, although Leon hides it back in the case, taking two small steps back trying to talk again. White hair is blown away by the wind and it annoys you that there is no elastic band or barrette to put it in a bun or tail. There doesn't seem to be anything in this damn house for your comfort!

The most painful thing is the way you look at him, but Leon still grins hiding his pain behind an inappropriate joke, standing in a fighting stance preparing to deflect blows.

"Well, I'm not against role-playing games, I really liked it when you were my bunny last time."

It's confusing or rather discouraging that it stops you for a few seconds and Leon uses this time to take the knife away from you, but you dodge so deftly and still more scared, almost dropping the knife to the ground.

"Come on, drop it, sweetheart" Leon asks, taking a step towards you, then you, on the contrary, retreat trying to find your advantage. "You know I'm not the one who's going to hurt you. I'll take you home."

"fucking dog," you growl in response, seeing how he swallows the insult, "Do you think I'll go with the one who made me like this?!"

Your voice is almost hoarse with hate. At the same time, Leon's face takes on a painful appearance, as if he was hit from the inside in the most painful place. That's what that son of a bitch told you! Okay, you can scold him with the most vile words, most of which he'll really be surprised that you even know, but... No buts!

"See?! I'm not afraid of you anymore! "

"You've never been afraid of me."

"You loved me, and I still love you," he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. And after all, somewhere in the whirlpool of memories, these frames sometimes pop up in your head. Not the Stotholm syndrome...

You weren't afraid of him, but of the other one... the man who is your husband calls you by a different name, although Leon calls you by a completely different one, and what you hear from the agent seems much more familiar, more correct and more familiar.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you! If I wanted to, I would have shot long ago, right? "

"I'm not your baby!" you're snarling, and your red eyes are burning even brighter in the dark.

Bad word.

Leon wants to bite his tongue. He still doesn't know about all the properties of your mutation, but he hopes that now you won't have claws behind your back, God bless him who left him many years ago, but it seems you don't have anything like that. Although when you attack him in a fit of anger, Leon really hurts like hell, which makes him even clench his teeth trying to hold back a moan of pain.

Probably, with strong malice, the power also somehow increases... A lot of times, because it looks like you broke his rib.

"Yeah, you never liked that word, but at least you didn't rush at me with a knife before," Leon still jokes, realizing that talking clearly won't help here. He doesn't want to use force, but it seems that there is no choice. He agrees that you may never love him more, but he won't leave you here either.

It is not even necessary to move to radical measures. Your head is bursting with pain again, causing tears to flow from your eyes and everything inside screams with fear, making you want to cower into a ball. Therefore, Leon does not expect you to bend at the knees and cry and start running away from him, just as you ran, according to Ada, all over the estate from Emerick. The wind licks wet tracks from your cheeks, scratching your skin when you run along the garden path, running out into a small open space before freezing in a frenzy, pressing your palms to your chest, as they did in a previous life, before mutation, when you were worried.

Cocoons.

A nightmare come true. Your heart was pounding and forehead was covered with sticky sweat, as were your palms from which the knife slipped.

"It's scary..." an inner voice echoes. You hear Leon running up to you and stopping too, looking at something he hoped to forget someday. Tears involuntarily flow down your cheeks, as if the real you are making your way, pushing someone else's personality into the background. Fire, pain, fear, a dart... This hellish pain that turns people into monsters, you haven't seen the staff, the estates, but now you understand what happened. Just like a divine epiphany.

Maybe it's just one of the reactions. Leon remembered from his own experience that not all individuals hatched from cocoons, but this was a huge rarity, and here as many as twenty if not more, however, this was the trigger. You remembered something.

The wet paths glowed in the light of the moon on your cheeks. If the situation had been different, Leon would have immediately tried to console you, but it seems that this could have become another stupid idea, on the other hand, your stupor could have been turned into a plus and they could have simply picked you up, put you in a helicopter and then calmly dealt with this crap. A tempting thought, of course, but... Something like a phantom pain... a feeling as if the whole body was burning again and being reshaped under high temperatures. Even the same hellish headache that sends a painful pulsation into the eyes. You were again struck by a short flash of memories, how someone’s strong hands held and stroked you while your body was changing and it definitely wasn’t your husband... his hands are icy, and his voice is dry, devoid of emotion... Maybe..

"Аt least it's clear where everyone has gone," a voice sounded from behind. It was getting harder to breathe and the world was spinning wildly in front of your eyes, so an inner voice told you to find where to land or your head was at risk of injury. This is not the first attack, but the most severe in the last few months. Anyway, your vague consciousness leaves you for a while, turning off, allowing you to get lost in fragmentary memories, but Leon's hands manage to catch you in time, carefully laying you on the grass.

Leon checked your pulse, the main thing is that your heart was beating and your chest was heaving smoothly. Apparently, it was an ordinary fainting fit against the background of a spectacle that caused you psychological trauma. He picked up your knife with which you tried to stab him a couple of minutes ago, was ready to take you away from this place as he had hoped earlier. Those guys who were still alive from his group proved that Emerick was not in the estate, but Leon did not believe.

And it's good that I didn't believe it. Leon didn't believe in miracles at all.

Well, right now he was definitely aiming to just pick you up before you regained consciousness, because trying to explain where the truth is and where the lie is clearly not the best idea. Calling a helicopter for evacuation and picking you up in his arms, hugging you closer to him, Leon quickly jumped up but heard a painfully familiar click to his right, which froze him in place.

“In the past, hands were cut off for theft, but I’ll assume that a colossal imbecile like you doesn’t know that.”

Leon grunts as he turns around. A tactical vest will protect his back and chest, but his head remains open for a shot.

"Then you should have been walking without hands for a long time," Leon retorts, putting you on a bench while delaying your rescue. "Looks like you didn't run away after all."

"I don't like unwanted guests, because of you, my wife and I will have to move to another place. It's a pity, she liked this garden."

"She's. Not. Your. Wife." Leon almost hisses, reaching for his gun, but jumps aside after a burst of three shots that were meant for him. "Bastard"

"I was informed that they did not get rid of you and I assumed that you would look for me at least out of a sense of duty to the country you work for, but please note that there are bigger fish in the sea. You seem to have a weakness for women with Asian features, so maybe you'll focus on your own preferences and not mess with my wife, whom, as I told you earlier, you just don't deserve. You have no idea what a valuable diamond she is, a nugget! One in a million!

Oh, this conceit! His measured and calm tone is annoying, Leon tries to suppress his anger at the fact that the bastard dug up information on him somewhere, but his attachment to Ada is in the past, although they still care about each other in some sense, but now there is you. And you are you, not the woman that Emerick considers his wife. Leon hides behind one of the cocoons and the bullets hit the non-dense flesh, after which a kind of ugly embryo that was once an ordinary person falls to the ground, forcing him to quickly take a better position behind the statue of the goddess Aphrodite.

"You've been living a lie for so long that you've come to believe it yourself!"

"Oh, sure, you know better!" sarcastic laughter makes anger boil from the inside, but Leon looks out of hiding just to look at you and make sure you're still where he left you. "We past even though we always knew that we were made for each other, and only by chance and then you got in my way! "

"I would have felt sorry for you if in your grief you hadn't tried to make an innocent girl into a copy of your dead wife and killed a lot of people in the process."

Leon pulled the safety off the gun. Now the main thing is not to catch a stray bullet and hope that this bastard does not turn into a giant mutated creature, because apart from four spare clips and another pistol, he has nothing and the space is not spacious enough to maneuver, besides, you could also get hurt. He has already forgotten that you can regenerate wounds, but nevertheless, there is no time to find out what is your Achilles heel yet.

"All for the sake of love"

"This is not love"

Leon pulled the trigger but Emerick dodged. There was a smell of gunpowder and something sickeningly acrid in the air, as if something had died somewhere and even the scent of flowers could not completely drown out this smell. You opened your eyes, but your head still continued to spin and the sharp noise of the vystreds only mocked your brain, forcing you to involuntarily pull up your arms and clap your ears with your palms, just like... Like when you were protected from zombies in a museum"

It wanted to hide, curled in a dark corner and not get out until everything resolves itself, although life knows how to throw surprises. You hear someone else's conversation, you hear how the one who came for you says that your husband is a sick cretin who considers it normal to infect people to make a copy of a dead person out of them, whereas he explains his reasons only with grief. The puzzle is not fully assembled and there are still many white spots in your memory, but some fragments have connected to each other despite the fact that you still do not understand who you are.

This shootout will continue for some time, and unnoticed by these two, you will slowly slide off the bench and see Leon and Emerick engage in hand-to-hand combat after they ran out of bullets. It is noteworthy that after losing your knife in battle, which is now proudly stuck in a tree post, he used his own, which he did not plan to part with, but since they are busy with each other, you calmly grabbed the handle and pulled out the blade, looking at your own reflection of scarlet eyes in steel.

You don't love any of them and you don't want to choose someone's side at all, but you also don't want to be tied to someone who actually infected you, having put so much effort into driving you crazy. You need to make a choice, and whether it will be right, only time will decide. Two people are fighting for one woman, although it looks like you are not a princess in trouble at all, and as Ada said, despite the effect of the virus, the real personality will still take everything back under his control, but the old life will never be. All dreams burned down along with that body, so you're also quite sincerely stabbing the family knife into Emerick's back.

The princess does not need a knight to kill the dragon, because she herself is able to stab him when he does not expect it. This is the simplest from the point of view of Leon's combat missions, but at the same time the most difficult. A scarlet stain spreads on the snow-white suit, but that's all. Emerick had not infected himself with anything, although his fate could not be called terrible. It was all for love, and he died at the hands of that love. A stupid death, which is even insulting, but not for you. And walking with you to the helicopter in the living room above the fireplace, Leon really understands why such an obsession arose...

You really look like the smiling girl in the portrait like two drops of water.

He was told that rehabilitation would take a long time, possibly years. You never spoke to him, you didn't even say a word, but you didn't attack him either. You just withdrew into yourself, allowing the doctors to conduct tests and identify whether you are ready to mutate into other stages when you receive any damage, but I was glad that you did not. In their opinion, all your physical data remained at the same level before infection, although perhaps you just deceived everyone well just so that they would leave you behind and not make you an experimental rat, allowing them to drain blood from you, but this allowed Rebecca's team to make a new improved vaccine. A dubious achievement for Leon, given the fact that you persistently ignore him.

He brings clothes, books, even begged for a TV for you to let you kill time and still nothing. You didn't even turn it on until the moment when, with fighting and shouting and after a bunch of official papers, Leon was finally allowed to take you home. They said that you don't have any regeneration and your injuries heal like on any other person, you don't rush at people in attempts to devour them, sometimes you still talk for more than five minutes a day (but not with Leon) and you don't have any unusual abilities. Nothing that would be of interest to the bigwigs of the government. You'd think that you'd literally become a black sheep, people would just start mistaking you for an albino, which is basically true now.

It's good when you can control some of your body's processes. This eliminates a lot of problems. At home, you curiously look at all these little things from your past life, thinking about what it was like to share this apartment with Leon, you look at the bed in which you must have slept with him, and it seems incredibly comfortable, although right now sleeping with Leon causes rejection. He does not climb into your personal space, no longer clings like a puppy, although he whines in the corner from the lost affection of a loved one. He gave you the bed, but he sleeps on the couch, brings breakfast and after a couple of months you get in touch.

It took Jill Valentine several years before she returned to the barn. Chris is so comforting, telling him that everything is still fine, but if necessary, he will let you go. One way or another, of course, he will check if everything is okay with you, but he will let you go if you still do not accept him back into your heart. Leon believes that therapy will help and you will remember your real self by separating the grain from the chaff. You don't have to love him again, although he will be happy if you ask him to stay by your side on a stormy night, hugging you after a nightmare. Then he will wrap you warmly in a blanket and press your face to his chest, gently stroking your back and comforting you with words.

Therapy will help and one day everything will be fine again. Kissing the top of your head, Leon wants to believe it as much as you do. At least you're willing to try.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon x you #resident evil 6

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bellarkeselection · 9 months

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Can I request a John Dutton x Reader Fic?

John and Reader have been dating for a year or longer now and they’ve been keeping it a secret from his kids, they sneak around like teenagers running through the house after hours sort of dynamic and sneaking through the ranch after hours. I’m thinking maybe they stayed up late and took two of the hours on a little “trip” and get caught by Rip and Beth and Kayce who come looking for the horses ?

Noisy Kids Can’t Ruin This

When I first thought of agreeing to go on a date with John Dutton I certainly didn't imagine this. I didn't imagine that we would end up dating for close to two years. But the thing that really is throwing me off is the fact that we have been sneaking around for that long without his children knowing about us. Getting out of my truck I walked through the dirt gravel until I reached the white barn with the Yellowstone Y above the doorway. “John! Are you here?”

“In the back stall, darling.” He called out to me quietly but loud enough for me to be able to hear.

Entering the barn the lights were dim yet I could still see where he was. John was standing outside the last stall throwing a saddle over one of the two horses he had taken out of the wooden stables. “So why did you call me saying to meet here. I thought we were eating at home?”

“Oh we still are. Just a little differently than you thought.” He said, offering his hand to help me up onto my horse. I swung my left leg over the saddle and got as comfortable as I could on the horse. John climbed on his own horse looking at me before he ran out of the barn and I did my best to follow after him. “Follow me, Y/n.”

We rode past the fences and up through the mountains. The stars were above our heads since it was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep. Normally we would spend the night with cooked dinner by the fireplace. Half the time we would sneak around so his kids didn't find out about us. John dismounted his horse holding his hat down on his head with his hand. He comes over helping me off my horse where I tilted my head seeing there was a small fire going, two chairs, and a tent pitched up. “John, what’s all this for?”

“Since we normally ate dinner at my house. I thought I should change the scenery for our date.” He explained to me slowly walking down to the fire with me at his side. He sat down removing his black hat from his head.

I sat down hugging my knees to my chest smiling at him. “Well I have absolutely no problem with this. It’s actually cute and reminds me of camping.”

“My family does call this the summer camp actually. I thought it was time you got to see it for the weekend.” He replied, turning his attention back to the burning fire in front of us.

John opened us each a beer and there was a comfortable silence that fell between us. It was rare that we got to spend time together given that his ranch was everything to him. Raising the bottle to my mouth I had almost drunk half the bottle before I felt John drape his arm over my shoulder. He turned his head slightly so we were looking the other in the eye. “I don’t think I could be happier anywhere else. You’re all I need Y/n.”

“I feel the same about you, John.” I smiled, leaning forward and kissing him slowly. He leans forward moving one hand to cradle my cheek deepening the kiss enjoying the other's company until we heard someone coming in our direction where we seperated from one another.

Three horses came to a halting stop and two flashlights were pointed at us. Blinking my eyes I could recognize Rip since I had seen him working late at night when I would sneak out of John’s house to go home. “There you are, sir.”

“Daddy, what the hell are you doing out here with a random girl. Are you trying to replace our mother?” The blonde female that I had to assume was Beth scolded.

Kayce dismounted his horse standing right beside it lowering his flashlight towards the ground. “Beth, don’t jump to the point of wanting to rip her head off.”

“What the hell are you all doing here?” John questions sitting his beer bottle down and I could hear the anger in her voice by the fact that they were here right now.

Rip nodded towards his boss. “I’m sorry for the interruption, sir. But I saw some missing horses when I went to close up the barn and then these two we’re getting worried when you didn’t answer your cell.”

Running a hand through my hair I sighed laying on my back on the blankets. I couldn’t believe that they were freaking out about us and even more so that we had now been found out. “I can’t believe this is happening…” Beth glared at me still sitting on her horse like she was about to hurt me.

“I am a grown man with what I thought were fully grown children. I can take care of myself so what made you think that you needed to start panicking about me?” John said back to them.

I glanced over to John out of the corner of my eye nervously rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess we should have expected this after we’ve been hiding this secret for so long.”

“You mean the secret that you have been sleeping with my father which is making me now want to kick your ass!” Beth dismounted her horse stomping up to my direction with her hands turned into fists.

I slowly got to my feet, not sure when she was going to start a fight with me. “Beth, look I am not sleeping with your father. Yes, we are dating. But I swear that is it, nothing else.”

“Now I’m the bitch about to attack you like a bear.” She growled at me.

Rip moved forward wrapping his arms around her and holding her back from attacking me. She grunted against him while Kayce shrugged his shoulders looking at me. “I’m sorry for my sister. She can be a little overprotective of anyone in our family.”

“Alright now that you see I am alive and not in danger can you all leave me alone until tomorrow evening. I have been planning this date for a few weeks now and I don’t want you ruining it please.” John got up to his feet standing in front of his children and led ranch hand.

Rip tipped his hat to him climbing back on his horse. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. You have a good night, you two.”

“Be safe you two.” Kayce nodded his head kicking his horse and he rode away with Rip into the dark and I knew both of them were waiting for Beth before they would leave us alone.

Beth still glared at me waving her finger in a warning tone climbing back up onto her horse going to meet the boys down the hill. “If she hurts you I will make her pay in ways she’s never thought of in her life. Mark my words!”

“I’m sorry about all the drama tonight. I had no clue they would come looking for me. I hope I didn’t make the date go down too badly.” John came back and sat down resting his hands on his knees giving me a half smile where I could tell he was nervous now.

Snuggling up against his side I wrapped my arms around him whispering in his ear just focusing my attention on the beautiful stars above our heads since nothing else mattered, just the two of us. “They didn’t ruin it, John. Nobody could ruin this as long as you’re here with me cause I am falling in love with you.”

“I’m relieved, Y/n. Because I am falling in love with you too.” He smiled longingly down at me, cradling my face in his hand kissing me. He used his other hand placing his cowboy hat on my head and that was how we spent our evening together.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#john dutton #john dutton x reader #kevin costner #yellowstone series #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone x reader #rip wheeler #beth dutton #kayce dutton #john dutton imagine #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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sugarbooger513 · 7 months

Text

My Little Muse...

I'm resurrecting my blog god damn it. I've been obsessing over DBD (especially the killers). I decided to start with one of my favorite people's favorite killers as a comfort... But be ready for smut >:)

Word Count: 1.4k

Content warning: Jake is a dick, no it is not canon 100 percent, mentions of death, murder, blood, it's based off of a horror game.

Reminder that I do have a taglist. If you'd like to be added it is on my pinned post, and I will provide the link here

The generator sparks a few times, showing promise. You can hear Dwight let out a sigh of relief.

“How many are left? Two?”

Before you can answer, Jake does. “Something like that. I think Meg is still-”

All at once, your fingers slip on the wire and the generator gives that loud bang that alerts everyone in the swamp.

Jake instantly turns to you, yelling loudly. “What the fuck, Y/N?!”

“I-I didn’t-”

“You just lead that damn killer this way! Are you stupid?! You better fucking take chase so the rest of us can get out!”

“Hey!” Dwight is quick to growl at Jake and his explosive attitude. “Calm down, we all mess up the generators from time to time.. Oh shit, quiet!”

Your body shakes as you crouch, slowly walking with Dwight. It doesn’t take long for you to see the killer of today’s trial. The Oni, Kazan Yamaoka, stands with his back to you. Behind his broad shoulders, his long, white hair blows behind him. In a way, a very terrifying way, it’s beautiful.

“Y/N, stay quiet..” Dwight reaches towards you, gently grabbing your hand to comfort you. “Get to another generator, I’ll take chase.”

“What?!” You hiss at him. “Dwight, you’re a smart man, don’t do something so stupid! Oni is ruthless!”

“You’re better at the generators, and I’ve been in these trials since the start.. Let me deal with him.” He smiles kindly at you, as he always does. Even at the campfire, he’s the first survivor to smile at you like that. “Go. I’ll see you when this is over, okay?”

He doesn’t give you time to argue, and he instead gets up from where he’s crouched. He flashes his flashlight at Oni, catching the killer’s attention. Dwight’s eyes widen and he takes off in a sprint.

You swear the ground even shakes with fear as Oni runs by your hiding spot. When the heartbeat in your ears calms down, you stand up and start to walk towards the next generator.

It takes everything in you to ignore the blood curdling scream that you hear.

You hit your knees as soon as you get to the generator. Luckily for you, this had already been worked on. Ignoring the splash of blood across the metal, you rip open the flap that holds the wires.

Your hands tremble as you grab two wires. No no.. don’t listen don’t listen.. I can’t let Jake’s dumbass get in my head.. All four of us will get out.. We will we.. we..

Tears form in your eyes as the generator starts to roar to life. Somewhere in the distance, another scream is heard, along with the all too familiar rumble of the entity claiming someone else.

The generator turns on, flashing a bright light as the alarm goes off, signaling that the exit gate can be opened. However, you just sink to the ground. Finally, the tears you were holding back start to drip down your face. One turns into two, which turns into waterfalls cascading down your cheeks.

You don’t even bother to move when your heart starts to pound.

You can hear heavy breathing directly behind you, even hear the soft dripping of blood as it falls from him and onto the grass below.

Despite your trembling, you turn your head up and meet his glowing red eyes from behind his mask. The burgundy mask only serves to make his eyes that much more intimidating.

However, all he does is stand in front of you, staring. He doesn’t even lift his sword.

What is he doing?

There’s no point in running, no point in fighting. He will catch you, and there’s no doubt that he will win. You do the only logical thing you can do in this situation. More tears stream down and you find yourself bowing, hoping that he’ll hook you quickly and get it over with.

However, it never comes. The Oni lifts his blade and places it back in his sheathe.

“..Sit up.” His voice is ragged, tired even. You quickly follow his instructions, sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes.

His large hand comes down, gently wiping a tear from your face. “I did not cause this.. Who?”

“..You can talk?”

If you didn’t think you were crazy before, you certainly are now because you swear he chuckles at your stupid question. “Of course.. But most of the time I am.. Working. Now, why the tears?”

“I.. It’s stupid. Why aren’t you putting me on a hook?”

“Would you like me to do that? I’m sure it hurts.”

“No! No I.. you just.. Are you showing mercy?”

“You ask a lot of questions to a killer..”

“..right.. One of the other survivors got mad at me for screwing up a generator. I did it one time! I’ve covered his ass in so many trials and it just.. Well it isn’t a good time for me either..”

He clears his throat a bit and hums. “Yes I could uh.. Smell that.”

Your face instantly goes hot in embarrassment. “E-excuse me?! You could smell it?!”

“..My entire thing is going into a blood fury.. Do you assume I can’t smell a woman’s menstrual cycle?”

Somehow, your face goes even hotter. “..Okay you might have a point..”

“Besides, I used to be considered human. I’ve been around women, and there are little things you do to hint when you’re on your cycle. The random crying doesn’t help your case.”

“It wasn’t random! Jake was being an ass and I’m tired of it! ..I’m just.. Tired.”

“..I understand. The entity is ruthless, but at least dying in a trial doesn’t mean staying dead. You’ll see your friends at your campfire.”

“I guess so.. So,” you stand up now, sighing, “I guess time is up? Go ahead and hook me.. I can’t outrun you anyways.”

He sighs, now bending down a bit to pick you up bridal style. You gasp, but don’t fight. In fact, you find yourself leaning into his broad chest. The warmth that radiates from his body soothes your aches and pains, and brings comfort to your exhausted mind.

“..Don’t get too comfortable. We’re almost to the hatch.”

“Hatch?! You’re.. Why are you letting me leave?”

He hums, not looking at you as he walks. “Your day has been enough hell. A hook on you won’t make me feel good anyways.”

“Do.. do all of the killers have that same mindset?”

“Not at all, but most of us certainly have our favorites out of you survivors. Now, whether that means they get mercy or even more brutality is dependent on the killer.”

“..Does this mean I’m your favorite, Oni?”

He snorts a bit. “I certainly enjoyed slicing your friends.. Especially the one who made you cry. He died by my hand this trial.”

Your eyes widen. “So.. you knew?”

“I had my eye on you the entire time, little prey. You just didn’t know it.”

“B-but.. How?”

“I chased you in the start and let you stun me with that pallet. After that, you were oblivious to my terror radius for some time. It gave me plenty of time to chase down that other girl and then find you.”

You sink back into his hold, pondering his words. “That’s.. Incredible.. And terrifying.”

“Good. It should be. Now,” he gently sets you on your feet, motioning to the open hatch, “get out of here. Go make sure your friends are back to the campfire.”

“..Thank you, Oni.” You smile at him, feeling a bit lighter than you have all day.

“..Please, call me Kazan.. When it’s just us, of course.”

You nod. “Okay, Kazan. Thank you.” You finally sit down, ready to push yourself into the hatch when he speaks again.

“Oh, little prey, one last thing.” When you look up, you’re shocked to see him removing his mask. HIs eyes glow that crimson color still, but it seems a touch more dull against his skin color. He grins, revealing his sharp canines and almost scarily perfect smile.

“Do keep this a secret.. I’d hate for my favorite prey to become someone else’s muse..”

Taglist: @katgalle, @kentosovertime, @roughwithfluff, @xxblissfullxx, @unordinaryolivia

#dbd #dbd killer #dbd oni #dead by daylight #dbd x reader #oni x reader #dbd comfort #dead by daylight comfort #dbd fanfic #dbd smut #oni smut #oni dbd #oni comfort #dbd killer x reader

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scribble-dribble-writes · 4 months

Note

Can you please do some headcanons of crosshairs being EXTREMELY overprotective of his female!general who’s a total scaredy cat but super adorable and sweet! Especially when it comes to other regs 👀 He’ll never admit he does it because he’s totally in love with her 🙄

OMG!!! This is so cute haha

Crosshair being a bodyguard is just so 😫❤️

Part 2>>>

Crosshair Bodyguard Drabble below:

He trails behind you like a panther that is set out to protect you while you meander through the market without a care in the world

He’s already there to catch you every time you trip or fall when your foot catches your Jedi robe and it makes you feel embarrassed for being clumsy but he thinks it’s cute. But you can’t read his expressions cause he always has his helmet on around you.

The moment someone even hints at saying anything mean, he’s up and stands in front of you with his intimidating stance and his voice dripping with sarcasm as he fends them off, letting you take cover behind his back.

You’re scared of bugs and anytime you see one, you grab onto his arm. His body tenses even time you touch him and you remind yourself to not do it but being with him makes you feel safe. He’s glad he’s got his armour on because no one can see the blush that creeps up onto his cheeks or how his body misses your touch when you step away.

Anytime you’re in a new setting, he gives you run down of how he’s already checked it for anything that could cause you a fright.

He collects info about your upcoming missions so when you go into the council to request for security, he has already been drafted to be of service to you.

You and him don’t converse much but he huffs at your jokes and adds his snarky remarks but the silence shared is comfortable. He doesn’t restrain you or make fun of you, he protects your innocence and by doing so, you feel more at ease around him.

You know every time you seem distracted, his eyes are on you, through the force you can sense that most of the time you are perusing through a book or reading a scroll, he stands beside you with his attention solely on you alone.

“Are you hurt?”, his frantic voice cuts in and that’s the first time you had heard him be so scared, when exploring an old Jedi temple, your foot had gotten stuck in a crevice.

But before you could tell him you were fine, he turned on his flashlight on the side of his helmet, his gloved hands so gently pulling your foot out, his other hand hovering over the length of your skirt almost as if he was restraining himself from peeling them back just to inspect if you had any other cuts from the jagged rocks

You knew you should not indulge in this, but he was kind and stoic that even before you could recognise it, you had begun to fall for him. You pulled your skirt up till your knee and watched as he took a jagged breath, his helmet slowly looking up to see you but his fingers trailing up your calf ever so slightly that you had forgotten all about the mission.

You cleared your throat and he moved away but when you tried to stand up, your ankle gave way and he caught you before you could fall. Your hands resting up on his chest that from this angle you could see the soft tan skin of his neck, that you clung to him to immediately bury your face in his chest to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“We need to get you to a medic.”, he stated and you shook your head. “It’s fine, Crosshair. It’s just a sprain.”, you replied, trying to hide your fear that your ankle could be broken in reality. You stepped away but he continued to hold onto your elbow. But even the slightest pressure on the injured foot made the pain burst through again. So you bit your lower lip to feign it but he caught on immediately.

“You can’t fool me.”, he said endearingly as he pushed his rifle behind his back and before you could protest, he pulled you close and picked you up in his arms.

You couldn’t wriggle out of this one, so you let yourself settle in his hold. You hid your face under his chin as you slowly reached up to lock your hands around his neck. His scent was a mixture of soap and gunpowder.

“Comfy?”, he played off his nerves but you could hear it in his voice. “Very much.”, you huffed as the pain died down but you could feel the rhythm of his heart beat beginning to thud with rapid speed. Nothing else was said as he took you back to the ship.

Should I write a part 2?

#crosshair tbb #crosshair fanart #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair bad batch #tbb crosshair #crosshair x oc #crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n

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justagalwhowrites · 10 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8.6k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013

You were outside when the woman rode up.

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you.

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different.

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home.

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?”

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up.

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?”

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon.

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.”

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense.

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened.

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.”

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!”

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two.

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…”

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.”

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you.

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…”

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’”

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing.

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off.

“Should have listened….”

You glared at her.

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.”

Joel laughed.

“Glad you spared me.”

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock.

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…”

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.”

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…”

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.”

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.”

You smiled.

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.”

“Dance party?” He frowned.

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face.

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.”

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall.

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before.

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did.

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier.

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission.

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you.

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow.

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest.

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.”

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face.

“You found people outside?” Joel asked.

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…”

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm.

“The clinic…”

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.”

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic.

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside.

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…”

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…”

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg.

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?”

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.”

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…”

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.”

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again.

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…”

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you.

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in.

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…”

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…”

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…”

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see.

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.”

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…”

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…”

“Yes, I can.”

You moved around him and he followed.

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it.

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…”

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…”

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…”

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…”

“You…” he breathed.

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.”

***

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it.

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…”

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you.

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.”

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind.

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin.

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…”

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face.

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.”

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…”

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.”

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you.

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?”

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…”

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face.

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…”

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…”

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath.

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…”

“I need you to take Savannah.”

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…”

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.”

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…”

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.”

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes.

“OK.”

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20.

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead.

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?”

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.”

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child.

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter.

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…”

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.”

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.”

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.”

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand.

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world.

August 2018

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope.

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…”

“But they’re people.”

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.”

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing.

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you.

“Mama!”

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you.

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…”

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?”

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time.

But the world, you knew, was not so kind.

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library.

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder.

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK.

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?”

“What else would I need to shoot?”

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book.

“What?”

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?”

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.”

“But I like animals,” she pouted.

You smiled.

“I know you do.”

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you.

You sighed.

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.”

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face.

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.”

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level.

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.”

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you.

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.”

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe.

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.”

September 15, 2023

“Mom?”

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside.

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?”

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat.

“Gattling, release.”

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger.

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance.

“We have to move.”

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind.

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…”

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.”

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack.

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.”

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it.

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment.

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?”

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…”

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide.

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…”

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…”

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.”

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple.

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.”

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.”

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody.

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.”

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her.

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her.

“Just three days, right Mom?”

You swallowed, hard, before nodding.

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules.

You needed to buy her time.

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape.

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill.

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised.

You had to get back to her.

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention.

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you.

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…”

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees.

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?”

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy.

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He laughed.

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…”

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground.

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed.

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.”

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…”

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!”

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other.

“Show ‘er.”

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair.

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…”

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…”

Mitchum smiled.

“Good.”

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose.

It was a year before there was room for anything else.

Early April, 2027

“Bambi…”

“Move, Joel.”

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her.

First aid, that you’d need.

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you.

“Yes, I can.”

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…”

“I have to try.”

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it.

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…”

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.”

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…”

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?”

He froze, looking at you.

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow.

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.”

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…”

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…”

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart.

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could.

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…”

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…”

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…”

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…”

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…”

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!”

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls.

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin.

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…”

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see.

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too.

“Don’t touch me.”

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you.

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!”

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…”

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!”

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain.

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started.

“What?” He whispered.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…”

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…”

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…”

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…”

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes.

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…”

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook.

“Bambi…”

“Get out,” you managed.

He said your name. Your real name.

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!”

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…”

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head.

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….”

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!”

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.”

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.”

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again.

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again.

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow.

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

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