#Frank standing on all his guns seems safe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostfanwriter · 5 months

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🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #dirty hands #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x virgin reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller angst

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bellaxgiornata · 5 months

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Sixteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: It has been so long since this series got an update, but the meeting with Frank and Birdy is finally here! I ended up splitting this chapter in two in order to get this update out sooner, so the rest of the evening will be in the next chapter. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @danzer8705 @mattys-rat1989

Exiting the bathroom and making your way down the hallway, you spotted Michael and Jimmy standing on either side of the entryway to Birdy's dining room. Both of them were absolutely silent beside the french doors that were splayed wide as you approached. You could feel the tension steadily rising in the house as you made your way over, taking in the sight of the brothers where they stood. Jimmy was leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his jacket pockets looking tense, but not nearly as tense as Michael looked with his back to you, his hands tightly curled into fists at his sides. You wondered how pissed at you he still was for secretly meeting up with that Serpent tonight, but now knowing what the biker had wanted, you were grateful Michael hadn’t tagged along and gotten himself killed.

You came to a stop just half a step behind Michael, pausing in the hallway just outside of the dining room. Reaching up, your fingertips gently ghosted over the fresh bandage on your forehead, wincing faintly as the wound stung. Frank shifted in his seat over at the dining table, the movement catching your eye just beyond Michael’s shoulder. Your hand lowered back to your side, your stomach churning uncomfortably at the cold, hardened stare Frank had seemed to reserve especially for you this evening.

A moment later Birdy was making her way down the hallway after you, the sound of her footsteps loud in the growing silence. She had been the one to tend to the wound that the Serpent had given you with the butt of his gun before Michael even had a chance to say anything. The second she’d spotted the blood on your face when you’d appeared on her doorstep, she’d shot Dotser a stern, disapproving look before guiding you wordlessly down the hallway and to a bathroom. She had been nothing but gentle and efficient as she cleaned and bandaged you in silence, though her blue eyes would often catch yours and soften, something that had you looking away and fighting back tears.

But now that your injury had been seen to, you knew everyone wanted to get down to business. As Birdy passed by you on her way into the room and over to the table, you felt one of her hands give your shoulder a gentle, comforting squeeze. Your throat tightened further at the small gesture of support amidst the growing tension in the room–tension you knew was caused by you. The look on Frank’s face had told you more than enough to know that he wasn’t going to welcome you here with open arms tonight. And you figured that once he learned what was going on, he’d be even more displeased with you.

“Is somebody goin’ to tell me what the fuck this is all ‘bout now?” Frank asked in irritation, his voice finally breaking the enduring silence. “Why are we suddenly havin’ this impromptu family meetin’?”

He sat forward in his chair, clasping his hands together as his eyes darted between Michael, Jimmy, and Birdy. He was intentionally ignoring your presence now, you noted. Making it only more apparent how unwelcome and unwanted you were–furthering the point that you weren’t a part of this family. Awkwardly you crossed your arms over your chest, swallowing hard and preparing to answer his question since you knew everyone was here because of you. But it was Birdy who was the one to speak up.

“I called ya here because we’ve got another problem, Frank,” she told him from her place across the table from him. “One I think the Kinsellas should be made aware of now.”

“And what the hell is that?” Frank snapped at her.

“Well,” Birdy said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair as her focus shifted to you, “it appears our new neighbor has a bit of a past. One that’s found her here in Dublin. And it involves the Serpents of Hell.”

Frank’s dark gaze abruptly landed back on you and you stiffened. Somehow the frown managed to deepen further on his face as he glared at you in distaste, eyeing you up and down. In front of you, you saw the way Michael’s shoulders squared at Frank’s obvious scrutiny of you.

“How the fuck is any o’ that our problem?” Frank asked, his glare still fixed on you. “We’ve got enough trouble we’re dealin’ with at the moment already, we aren’t takin’ on charity cases for someone who doesn't matter to the family.”

“Watch yourself, Frank,” Michael warned, voice low.

You watched as Frank’s eyes shifted towards Michael. Something like the look of surprise briefly crossed his features, but that was quickly replaced with growing irritation. Though a warmth sparked in your stomach at seeing Michael come to your defense; you figured he must not be quite so angry with you if he was still at least sticking up for you to his family.

“The Serpents asked her to meet with them tonight,” Birdy continued. “Which is why I had Dotser bring her. And now,” she said, her head turning as her eyes returned to you, “I’d like to know what they wanted. Because I’ve got a strong feelin’ that it’s got somethin’ to do with us.”

All four sets of eyes gradually found their way to you around the room. You took a moment examining each face, noticing how Birdy looked deeply curious with one of her dark brows raised in a silent question. Frank was staring at you with narrowed eyes looking as if he wanted any excuse to tear into you–and admittedly that was making you nervous despite Michael’s presence nearby. Jimmy’s expression looked fairly neutral and hard to place, which once again left you wondering what Michael had told him about you. And while Michael’s face looked stern, his eyes were offering you silent support, urging you to speak up. Licking your lips nervously, you sucked in a breath and attempted to gather the courage to explain what had happened tonight.

“It was one Serpent,” you began, reluctantly pulling your gaze away from Michael and focusing on Birdy and Frank at the dining table. “Just one Serpent who wanted to meet. He appeared to be low ranking from the patches on his cut. But he knows who I am.” You shot Birdy a meaningful look as you continued. “My real name and who I’m running from. Who I’m connected to.”

“And who’s that?” Jimmy asked curiously as he pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he faced you.

“My uh, my ex,” you confessed awkwardly, your hands beginning to fidget at your sides. “His name is Victor, but the Serpents refer to him as the Viper. He’s the Sergeant at Arms for the MC’s mother charter back in the States.”

Jimmy’s head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing in further curiosity. “Sergeant at Arms?” he questioned. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“He ranks just below the mother charter's President and Vice President. It's his job to uphold MC security and order,” you explained, trying to force memories that were clawing at the back of your mind away. “He’s also commonly used as a sort of…assassin, you could say. The different charters might call him in if they’re dealing with a serious enough problem. And then he…deals with it. Permanently.”

Jimmy’s brows both flew up onto his forehead before his attention shifted over towards his brother. Michael’s eyes met his and you watched as some sort of silent exchange passed between the pair of them. Across the room at the dining table you heard Frank mutter a curse under his breath at your explanation. Clearing your throat, you figured you should probably finish telling them the rest of the truth.

“As you can probably guess, he uh, he wasn’t the kindest to me in the end,” you said, your attention dropping down to the hardwood floor. “Eventually I got away from him and I’ve been running from him for a few years now. Living under fake identities. Moving from city to city. I had no idea there was a charter here in Ireland, though. Or that–that you all were my sister’s neighbors and were involved in the uh, the things that you are.” You paused, noticing the way Frank’s jaw tightened at your mention of their illegal activities out of your peripheral. “If I had, I would have chosen not to come here. But that isn’t exactly the entire issue anymore now.”

You paused again, your eyes briefly closing as you remembered the encounter from earlier tonight. The threat the Serpent had made to you about giving up Michael and what would happen if you didn’t. Your stomach twisted uneasily at the memory of his words.

“It appears you were right, Birdy,” you confessed.

At the table, the brunette perked up, straightening in her chair. “Right about what, dear?” she asked slowly.

You looked up, meeting her eyes from across the room. “The Serpents want Eamon as their supplier,” you told her. “You were right.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Frank snapped, rolling his eyes and slumping back in his chair. “‘Course they fuckin’ do.”

Birdy somehow sat up even straighter, her blue eyes practically piercing through you at this information. She knew there was more to the story than that, it was written all over her face.

“And what did this snake want?” she asked, her voice a deadly calm as if she already knew the answer. “How was he plannin’ to get the Serpents a deal with Eamon by usin’ ya?”

Your eyes briefly flew to Michael as he hung his head. Him and Jimmy already knew this part, the part that was making your stomach roil and fill with the urge to be sick. You could still feel the weight of the burner phone in your jacket pocket, opposite of the pocket that still contained the gun Birdy had given you.

“He wants me to give him Michael,” you replied. “Because Eamon wants all of you dead, but the highest bounty is on Michael. And he…knows that Michael and I have spent some time together, so he figured he could threaten me to give him up in order to keep myself safe.”

A dangerous look slipped onto Frank’s face as he abruptly leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “If ya even so much as think ‘bout doin’ that, there’ll be a bullet in your head faster than ya can blink,” he growled at you. “Even if I have to put it there myself.”

“That’s enough , Frank,” Michael warned again as he took a step towards him. “Ya won’t so much as even touch her, ya hear me?”

Frank sent Michael a look of disbelief, waving a hand in your direction. “D’ya really think this piece o’ ass is worth the hassle, boy? Ya don’t think she’d throw ya to that motorcycle club just to save her own skin? Did your time in prison really make ya that soft, Mikey? That goddamn blind? Ya damn well know what to do when a threat to this family rears its fuckin’ head.”

“That won’t be happenin’, Frank,” Birdy chimed in, her tone dark.

Michael advanced on Frank, his stride cold and deliberate as his hands once again curled into tight fists at his sides. You saw the way Frank recoiled in his chair under what must’ve been that same murderous look you’d witnessed on Michael’s face earlier this evening. A shudder ran through you at the sight of him once again standing up to his family for you, especially considering the circumstances.

“Now I know ya aren’t suggestin’ what I think ya are suggestin’ by that, are ya, Frank?” Michael’s cold voice asked. “Because I really don’t think ya want to be insinuatin’ that. Not to me.”

Frank let out a humorless laugh, but you were quite aware of the terror hidden behind it. You didn’t know much about Michael’s past, not having delved deep enough into it once you’d uncovered the information about his deceased wife, but the way everyone appeared to cower from him–even Frank, who seemed to be the one in charge of the Kinsella clan–had you wondering just how dangerous Michael could be. Especially considering how safe and protected he’d always made you feel.

“Oh come on now, Michael,” Frank began placatingly. “Ya know I’m just lookin’ out for ya. She’s just pussy, she’s not–”

Michael slammed a hand firmly onto the table, the noise effectively shutting up Frank. The harsh noise also visibly caused Birdy to jump in her seat as Jimmy took a cautious step forward, a look of uncertainty crossing his features.

“Call her that again and see what happens,” Michael threatened, his tone dangerously calm despite his body language. “I dare you.”

Silence fell in the room as the tension palpably rose. Michael didn’t move from his intimidating place towering over Frank, one hand still flat along the dining table and trapping Frank in his chair. You figured you should say something, cut the tension and try to salvage the situation. There was a very real issue that needed to be resolved, one you could truly use their help with, and this wasn’t the way to accomplish that tonight.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you blurted out.

The attention in the room returned to you once more and caused you to nervously shift on your feet. Even Michael had glanced over his shoulder, his gaze fixed on you. Though you could still see the dark and dangerous look plain across his face, the muscle jumping in his cheek.

“I don’t want Victor to find me, but I’m also not going to give Michael up,” you assured Frank with a firm shake of your head. “That’s not me. I wouldn’t do that. And if I could just–just disappear like I usually do and have that make this entire situation go away to keep everyone safe, I would. But I can’t. Because if I run, that Serpent will just tell the charter what he knows and then Victor will be out here picking all of you off one by one. And I’m positive he’d include my sister in his body count. So me running isn’t an option this time.”

“So what’re ya suggestin’, dear?” Birdy called out.

“The only logical conclusion I have been able to come to,” you said, trying to keep the tremor from your voice. “He gave me three days to give Michael up. If I run or don’t do as he asked, he’s telling the Serpents about me and we’re all guaranteed to be as good as dead if Victor comes here.”

Michael pushed off of the dining room table, turning on the spot and leaving Frank forgotten behind him. His eyes were narrowed as they scrutinized you, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“What’re ya gettin’ at, Grace?” he asked.

Your eyes met Michael’s as you held his gaze. You knew he wasn’t going to like what you were going to say, but it was the only plan you could think of when you were in the car heading here. It wasn’t like you had a lot of time to think of alternative options. In the end, you needed to do what needed to be done to protect everyone. Even if you didn’t want this to be the solution.

“I play along,” you answered him, ignoring the way Michael immediately bristled. “In two days I tell him I’ve lured you out somewhere. Somewhere private that wouldn’t seem suspicious. Tell him that you’re expecting to meet me. But when he shows up…” your voice trailed off, your eyes darting to Birdy before they dropped to the floor again. “You aren’t there. And I kill him instead.”

“ No ,” Michael immediately responded, voice firm. “Absolutely not. That is not happening.”

“There aren't really any other options here, Michael,” you pointed out.

He took a step towards you, his hand swiftly raising up as he dug a finger hard into his own chest. His face was set firm as a dangerous fire burned back at you from his eyes.

“ I'll kill him,” he stated, jabbing his finger into his chest for emphasis. “This isn't a job ya can handle, Grace. There isn't a fuckin’ way in hell I'd let ya even try!”

Your eyes narrowed back at him in defiance, your own hands balling into fists at your sides. His jaw tensed further as he stared you down.

“You don't think he'd see that coming?” you shot back. “Don't think he'd expect it from you? He's going to want to catch you off guard, Michael. And if he can't, you don't think he's going to immediately realize he's being set up?”

“She has a point, love,” Birdy called out.

A noise like a rumbling growl came out of Michael as he turned, his dark glare landing on her. Birdy looked entirely unbothered as she shrugged a single shoulder at him.

“Now I'm not sayin’ the poor girl needs to be the one doin’ the killin’, but I'm sure this…biker is goin’ to be expectin’ a set up if ya aren't left unaware of what's comin’,” she continued. “He's goin’ to want an easy target, anythin’ less than that is goin’ to raise suspicion, Mikey.”

“I'm not lettin’ her pull the goddamn trigger,” Michael snarled at her.

“They've both got a point, Michael,” Frank cut in, one of his hands rubbing his chin as he gazed down at his lap in thought. “Though I'm guessin’ she's never pulled a trigger before and I'm not sure I trust her not to fuck this up. But…it does seem to be the only solution. If it's just one man…”

“I can handle it,” you assured him, squaring your shoulders and ignoring the racing of your heart. “But you're going to need a way to dispose of the–” you winced, “–the body after. You won't want a Serpent's death possibly being connected to your family at all or you'll have the whole charter coming down on you.”

Michael once again spun around, his fiery gaze back on you. “Ya aren't doin’ this Grace and that's final,” he snapped.

Birdy rose from her chair, a smile on her face as she crossed the room and made her way over to Michael. She wrapped a single arm around his shoulders, though the tension in his body didn't remotely lessen at her touch.

“Grace has had a long and difficult evenin’,” she told Michael as she directed that calm, soft smile on you. “Why don't ya bring her home and make sure she's alrigh’ after everythin’, yeah?” she suggested gently. “Leave the situation to Frank and I to figure out tonight and we'll go over it with ya tomorrow.”

“She's not killin’ anyone, Birdy,” Michael warned her.

“Hey,” Jimmy said, catching his brother's attention as he took a step towards him, “I'll stay and help them figure this all out. I owe ya that for everythin’ ya have done for me lately. Just bring your girl home tonight, brother. Don't worry ‘bout the details o’ all this right now.”

Michael stared at his brother for a long moment, his eyes hard and still alight with something fierce burning in them. Once again it looked as if they were having a silent conversation that the rest of you weren't privy to. After a minute, Michael finally nodded.

“Fine, we'll leave ya to it,” Michael reluctantly replied. “But ya know where I stand on this, brother. She’s not killin’ anyone.”

Jimmy nodded solemnly in response and only then did some tension visibly leave Michael’s body. Birdy gave Michael a quick, one-armed squeeze before she released her arm from around him, shooting you another warm smile.

“Go. Get some rest tonight, dear,” she told you. “Ya deserve it.”

Michael crossed the few steps towards you before wrapping an arm around your waist. You instantly relaxed into his side, grateful of that safety and protection he always seemed to exude. You let him begin to guide you down the hall and out of Birdy's house as the conversation picked back up in the dining room. You already felt better with Michael at your side, but just as he reached out and opened the front door for you, his next words gave you pause.

“Don't think we don't have things to talk about after tonight, Grace,” he warned you. “Because I told ya earlier that I wasn't done discussin’ this with ya.”

A sinking feeling hit you hard, your stomach nearly dropping to the floor at your feet. All you could do was nod slowly before exiting the house, nervous of the conversation that was about to happen. You should have realized he wasn't going to let this whole situation go so easily.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella #kin

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 month

Text

Nightmares (Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've had this in my drafts for a while, and I have the day off today, so I figured I'd post it. I initially wrote this a a Frank Castle fic, but when I was reading it over after I was done, it really seemed to fit Michael better (again, obsessed with this man, and I've only seen the pilot episode of Kin). I hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: One of Michael's deepest fears comes to life in a nightmare, and he turns to you for comfort, needing to ground himself.

Warnings: Graphic nightmare (dead dove do not eat--Michael, Anna, and Reader tied up in the woods, Michael having to choose between you and Anna, violence, guns, Reader death in dream), swearing calming down Michael after a nightmare, smut (kissing, fingering, praise, biting/nibbling, p in v unprotected sex) cuddling, talking about fears

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 2,097

He doesn’t know where he is. His in some sort of forest, dead, brown, fragile leaves below him. He hears crying—these terrified sobs and whines of horror. Michael’s eyes shoot up and see you and Anna on your knees, your arms tied around your back with blinding headlights shining behind you. He looks up and sees a man standing behind you both, but he can’t make out their face. What he can distinctly recognize, though, is the gun in his hand.

“Choose!” a gruff voice shouts above the cries of the two people he loves most in the world.

“Let ‘em go!” Michael shouts, straining against the rope on his wrists. “Yer problem seems t’be with me, eh? So cut me loose and fight me.”

“You need to choose, Michael,” the voice says. Why can’t he see his face?

“Ye want me t’choose? Alright, me! I choose me!” he protests. “That’s who ye have a grudge against, right? So let them go and off me!”

"Choose!"

Leave begin to rustle beneath where you kneel, and Michael’s eyes flit over to you in a panic. You stand, your body shaking and tears streaming down your face. You lock eyes with him and mouth “I love you” before you turn around and face the faceless man.

“Let them go,” you tremble. “Hurt me, but spare them.”

“No!” Michael shouts, desperately trying to burst out of his restraints, but they only get tighter.

“She has the courage that you so frequently lack,” the faceless man says as Michael protests and Anna cries in fear.

“Anna, sweetheart, close your eyes,” you beg, doing your best not to cry. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, hey!” Michael shouts. “Let her go! Take me, instead! ‘M beggin you. Please! Please!”

“You could learn a thing or two from her.”

“Mikey, I love—.”

Michael cries out when his happens, the gunshot echoing deafeningly loud in the forest as you fall lifeless in the leaves in front of him. Blood is smeared on your head, spreading like a crimson sheet around you, and all Michael can do is cry before letting out a terrible scream at the top of his lungs.

He shoots up, finding himself in his bedroom, sheets in his lap and sweat sticking to his skin as his chest heaves for air.

“Michael,” you say gently, and he looks over to you with panicked eyes. You’re okay. You're alive. Here, with him, in his bed. “Mikey, it was just a nightmare. It’s okay. Everything’s alright.” You run a gentle, cool hand down his sweaty, burning skin. “Whatever it was wasn’t real. You’re safe.”

Michael lets out a shaky breath, his bleary eyes looking over your form before he leans in and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and weeping into the crook of your neck.

“I thought I lost ya,” he weeps. “I can’t loose someone else I love. I-I-I can’t loose ya.”

“Oh, Michael,” you breathe, running your hand down the back of his hair. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

Michael matches his breathing with yours, eventually calming down and pulling back to look at you with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Leaning in, Michael kisses you deeply. He knows you’re here in front of him, but something deeper in him is desperate to know that you’re actually here in his bed, that you’re not dead somewhere in the woods like what he saw in his dream. You accept his embrace for a bit, but you start to pull back as he tries to intensify the kiss.

“Michael,” you whisper. “Is this what you want? Or do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t have someone take ya from me. I need’ya right now, love,” he mutters. “Please, just let me have this.”

“As long as you’re sure,” you nod, leaning back in for a kiss. When your lips meet again, Michael is more aggressive in his embrace, taking charge of how his lips crash against yours and how his tongue slips in deep to explore. He guides you down on the mattress, his hands squeezing into your body as he kisses you desperately, sure to leave little bruises behind. Michael’s lips explore every inch of flesh that they can find, pulling little whimpers of pleasure from you as he does so. Any other day, Michael would drag his kisses down and spend hours between your legs, but he needs to be close to your face. He needs to see the sparkle in your eyes, the flush of your cheeks, the little lines at the corner of your mouth when you smile at him. Leaning back up, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and rocking into the mattress. His hands grip the sleep shirt of his that’s on your body, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere to the side. You let out a soft moan as your breasts are exposed to the cool morning air, something that Michael happily dips down to kiss, lick, and suck on the pebbling flesh before moving back up and marking up your neck.

“Mikey!” you squeal breathily when he hits the right spot. Your nails dig into the soft flesh of his back, scratching angry lines down his body. Michael growls by your ear, nipping at the love bite before moving his mouth over yours and slip his tongue into your mouth. “Michael . . . baby!”

“I need ya,” he growls. “I need to bury my cock in that tight cunt of yers. Make those pretty sounds fall from yer mouth, make my name the only thing you can remember, stuff ya full.”

“Michael,” you whine.

“Ye want tha? Want me ta stretch ya full? Want my cum in ya?”

“Fuck, Mikey, yes, please!”

“Atta girl,” he coos. “Usin yer words like tha. Such a fuckin good girl fer me.”

Quickly shoving down his boxers, he pushes down the fabric just enough, giving himself a few pumps to make sure he’s nice and hard for you before sliding his hand up your thigh and grabbing onto your underwear. He yanks them clean off of you before fingering you, getting you ready. You cry out, your back arching as he pumps his fingers in and out to spread your slick around before moving back to fist his cock and spread your essence around.

“Ready, pet?” he pants.

“Yes,” you say breathily. “Yes, please!”

He presses a deep, passionate kiss to your lips, a moan pulling from your throat as his tongue explores your mouth before he slides in. Your lips part from one another’s as you cry out into the bedroom at the top of your lungs. You’re wet, sure, but not as wet as you usually are, so taking Michael is a bit more of a challenge. It feels like a tighter fit, and you can feel every cell between your legs as you stretch and try to take him. Michael feels it too, biting his lip before moving to bite your shoulder, which only makes the volume of your cries go louder. Your fingers sink into his back, leaving little crescent mark brands on his skin.

“Fuckin perfect,” he mutters, soothing the sting of his bite with his tongue and lips. “So tight. Such a nice cunt f’me, gripping my cock like tha.”

“Michael,” you whine.

“Say my name.”

“Michael!”

“Again.”

“Michael!”

“Who d’you belong to?”

“Michael!”

His pace moves from something tender and sensual to brutal and unrelenting, but you let him take what he needs until you’re screaming out so loud that you, him, and his neighbors know you’ll have a sore throat for days. You cum hard around his length, your entire body trembling with your orgasm as your mind goes fuzzy and you desperately cling to his body. Michael is like an animal as he ruts into you, chasing his high as he prolongs yours. The scruff of his bread scratches against your neck, and your hand slides up the back of his head to tug at the soft locks. He twists his head so his lips meet yours once more, full of lust, but intrinsically laced with passion and love. You nuzzle into his embrace and he bites his lip as he begins to feel the muscle in the lower abdomen tighten before he spills into you with a low grunt. You lie there, tangled together as a sweaty mess as you try to catch your breath. Languid, tired kisses are exchanged back and forth, and Michael can’t help but get lost in your sparkling eyes and how much he loves you, seeing that same love reflected back to him.

“You’re squishing me a little, Mikey,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his nose.

“Oh,” he blushes. “Sorry, pet.”

You lean in for a kiss as he starts to pull out, rolling to the side but keeping you in his arms. You settle perfectly into his side, your hand warm on his chest.

“Are you okay, Michael?” you breathe into the dark bedroom, playing with his chest hair as you rest on one another.

“Awful dream,” he admits after a long silence. “Nightmare in every sense of the word. You . . . Ye died. Right in front of m’eyes, and there was nothin’ I could do ta save ya. I-I had ta choose between you an’ Anna, an’ I was beggin’ whoever it was t’take me instead. You stood up and you sacrificed yerself.”

He draws in a sharp, shaky breath between his teeth as you hold him tight.

“Baby, I’m,” you start, and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

“I think about it all the time,” he continues. “Ways the both of ye could just be taken from me. What I’d do. How I’d live without either of ya, and . . .” He can’t even fathom a reality where you’re both not in his life. He’s already lost his wife, and there’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t miss her or think about how different his life would be if she was still here. “I can’t loose either of ya. I think I’d die if I did.”

“No one is gonna take us from you, and I’m not leaving, I promise.”

“But what if it’s not yer choice? What if I fuck up again an—.” He sniffles. “I didn’t think love . . . Fuck, I didn’t think a normal life was in the cards f’me. Everything that’s happened is proof of tha’. An’ now, I’m startin’ to believe again that it might be possible. ‘M afraid it’ll come crashin’ down again like it did.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?” you whisper. He looks up at you through his big brown eyes in a way that you can only describe as something a puppy would do. “I’m mortified of losing you, too. Either you die, or someone runs a red and I get into an accident. I’m terrified of what it’ll be like if we’re not in each other’s lives. But I know that’d it have to be some act of God to separate us.” I lean down and kiss him. “I love you, Michael. Forever and always. And nothing will ever change that.”

He holds you tighter, allowing you to snuggle down on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat loud and clear.

“What if we just run away,” he whispers. It’s not a question to you so much as it is a thought he’s mulled over time and time again. “Start over. Have a new life somewhere where all this shit isn’t weighing down over our heads.”

“Mikey . . .”

“I mean it. We’d be safe anywhere but here.”

“You’d be away from Anna.”

“We’d take her with us.”

“Her life is here, Michael. If she wants to leave, it’s her decision.”

“I just need t’keep ya safe.”

“And you will. No matter where we are in the world, I know you’ll keep us safe.”

“Why d’ya have so much faith in me?”

You turn into him, the tip of your nose brushing against his neck. “Because I love you, and you love me. I know the man that you are, and who you’re working to be. You are a good man, Michael Kinsella. And I love you.”

“You rhyme when you get sappy,” he chuckles softly, giving you a squeeze.

You kiss his shoulder, chuckling. “It was unintentional. But true. And it got you to smile. It’s a win-win.”

Michael pulls the blanket up around your bodies, holding you close and placing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

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#michael kinsella #kin #kin amc #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella fanfiction #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem!reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella x reader angst #michael kinsella x reader smut #michael kinsella x fem!reader angst #michael kinsella x fem!reader smut

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malarkgirlypop · 2 months

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MEDIC! Part 27 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Oh guys this is a hard read for my first post in a hot second. I have been slow at writing this, cause this is super important and I don't want to have it be bad, or tacky. This is obviously horrible what happened to these people, and sometimes that horrific a of an event is hard to put into words. This is in means no way to offend anyone.

Disclaimer: End part of episode 9, if you are not comfortable with this please don't read.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.

We again piled into the trucks, we were making good time, but it still felt like years being in the back of the vehicle. Babe had kept my secret from everyone like I had asked, but I caught him sending me looks throughout the night. The sadness still lingering in his eyes from the conversation we had had previously. All I could do was send him small smiles.

We passed through the green countryside, chatting amongst ourselves. The rolling plains seemed endless, as they stretched out for miles, further than the eye could see.

The trucks passed through the outskirts of the small rural town, a decrepit barn sat on the side of the road. Even from over the roar of the engines from all of the vehicles driving by, I could still hear the yells of men. I look to the barn curious about the commotion, everyone else also peering over. The barn door swung open as soldiers tossed men onto the ground, I could see from here the men were wearing German uniforms. I couldn’t look away fast enough as the soldier’s standing behind the men raised their guns, shooting them in the back of the head. I turned my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to witness the brutal killings.

The other men seemed unfazed.

Except for O’Keefe, who looked around to his fellow comrades with shock on his face. They didn’t return the sorrow that etched his features, only shrugging their shoulders, or smiling at the man for looking so distraught by what he had seen.

His eyes finally landed on mine. I returned the look of sadness and horror, but mine was worn with memories behind it. O’Keefe eyes shone with new fear and sadness, whereas mine was tattered and old. O’Keefe had not yet known the horrors of war, I guess that’s why the men didn’t reciprocate his concern. We all had seen much worse than a few men being shot in the head.

What an odd statement to make. To realise.

O’Keefe’s reaction was only natural, but for us it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a sad reality to think we were accustomed to the horrors we had seen.

We finally pulled into the little town. The men quickly departed the trucks, getting orders from the Lieutenants. We weren’t staying the night, just stopping for a break, before continuing on in our journey.

“I have to go on a patrol through the woods.” Don said as he approached me. I nodded my head, giving him a smile. There wasn’t much for me to do here, we weren’t unpacking, so I hung around the officers in case they needed me for something.

“Ok, be safe.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. I watched as he walked away joining the rest of the men he was going with.

—----------------------------------------------

“Emily! Guys! Hey, have you seen any of the officers?” Frank yelled from behind us. I turned to face Perconte, his normal playful expression filled with urgency.

“No.” Babe, Lieb and I all stated.

“Is everything ok, Frank?” I asked the man, my face changing to concern for my friend. He had been on one of the patrols. Everyone else had come back from theirs except for their group. But Frank was by himself, where were the other men? Even Don had come and gone, saying they hadn’t found anything. Frank didn’t answer me though, sprinting from one soldier to the next, asking the same questions.

I watched him, my brows furrowed and lip caught between my teeth. Babe and Lieb seemed to have brushed off the odd interaction going back to the conversation they were having.

“Ain’t that right, Em?” Babe nudged me, but my gaze was still fixed on Frank running around frantically.

“Em?” Lieb asked, clicking his fingers in front of my face.

“I think something’s wrong.” I told them, my stomach churning. I felt unsettled, something not sitting right in my gut.

“He’s probably fine.” Lieb said, lighting his smoke, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. “Don’t look so worried, Emmy.” He tried to reassure me, stroking his hand down my back. But I shook my head. I set off after Frank as he ran into one of the buildings.

“Em, where are ya going?” Babe called after me. But I didn’t turn to explain. I ran after Frank, gaining on him as I sprinted, dodging my way through the crowd.

Frank found Winters first. The red haired man walked out of the building they had been temporarily occupying. I hung back not wanting to interrupt them, but I was desperate to know why Perco was so frantic.

“Major Winters, Sir.” Frank started chasing after the officer who walked briskly towards where I stood.

“Uhh, we found something.” Perco didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. The pair passed in front of me, I followed behind them closely, eavesdropping in on their conversation.

“We’re out on patrol and we came across this…” Frank stopped trying to find the right way to describe what he had seen.

“What, what, what, what?” Major Winters prompted Perco trying to get him to spit out what he wanted to say.

“Frank, Frank, what is it?” Winters seemed just as concerned as I did. Perco stood in front of Dick, mouth agape, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself.

“I don’t know, sir.” He uttered, shaking his head.

At that moment my stomach dropped. I didn’t know why, but something about how flustered, confused and scared Perco looked set me on edge.

This war wasn’t pretty, hell no war was. But there were horrific things done, so many lives lost. There were a number of explanations as to what their patrol found, each one just as dreadful as the next.

Winters saw that too. He loaded a couple groups of men into the back of the trucks, myself included. With Frank in the front car with the rest of the officers, he gave directions back to where the patrol waited.

I sat between Don and Lieb, no one seemed to take Frank’s worries seriously. The men in the bed talked and chatted casually to each other. I sat elbows on my knees and head in my hands, I couldn’t stop my leg from jittering and my stomach churning.

We drove into the dense forest, following the dirt roads and Frank’s directions. I watched as Perco lifted his arm pointing left, my eyes followed.

My heart dropped as my eyes landed on the gruesome sight.

There in the thick of the trees, was a clearing.

Within the open space was a fence, lined with barbed wire. The tall barrier loomed over a muddy field. In the middle sat wooden huts and a bigger building sitting at the edge. Outside of the fence was a tall watch house.

I knew from the first glance what this was.

No, I knew from the smell.

That was the first thing to hit me. The stench of sweet rotting flesh filled my senses, it felt as if it clung to everything, there was no way to escape it. The men around me screwed up their noses and flinched away from the foul scent, their attention finally captured.

The chatter had died as soon as the camp came into view. From a glance around the bed I could tell a lot of the men were confused, unsure of what they were looking at. Just like Frank; they were unable to put into words exactly what they were seeing.

Within the confines of the barrier stood people. Well, they didn’t look exactly like people. I could see, even from a distance, their bodies were unfed and unwashed.

The trucks stopped, the men slowly disembarking. It was silent, as they all tried to understand what exactly they were looking at.

I jumped out immediately walking closer to the barrier. There were two fences. A perimeter between the two, enough for people to walk in. A body lay between the two barriers, gaunt and lifeless.

The men inside the gate all wore the same sets of clothes, blue striped pyjamas. I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears already brimming in my eyes.

It was one thing to learn about in school, but another to see it in real life. It all but consumed me.

Everyone else still had no idea what this really was. Eyes all filled with questions and horror.

Winters slowly approached the gate. The men inside stood waiting. I wonder if they knew if we were good or bad, but they didn’t run. They gathered around looking back at us as we looked in on them.

There were no women, no children, only men inside. But they didn’t look like it. They all appeared pale and lifeless, only skin and bone, barely moving.

The men opened the gate as everyone gathered in front of the opening.

“Major, sir?” Christenson questioned, asking if he should proceed in opening the next gate. The gate that would allow these people to be free of their confines, and allow us to enter their decimated prison.

“Open it up.” Winters commanded. The men nodded their heads, cutting off the chain that secured the compound closed.

“Stand back, back it up, back, back.” Christenson commanded the prisoners as he tried to swing open the gate.

They stepped back revealing smoking huts and even more men, ones who didn’t seem strong enough to approach the barrier.

I couldn’t hold back my tears as they slipped down my face. I looked from person to person I could see the torture they had endured etched into their features, but I’m sure that was only a second. Only a small glimpse into the years of horror they had to live through.

How many people did they have to watch die, family, friends, peers. Wondering if they were next or secretly praying that someone would just end their pain.

I wonder how long they were kept in these cages like animals waiting for their slaughter?

How could people be so cruel to their own kind?

We moved forward slowly as a group, the prisoners watched us, they looked apprehensive for a moment before they all seemed to realise we were not the enemy.

They moved forwards, hands reaching out grabbing at the soldiers who walked in. I felt the sleeves of my shirt being tugged glancing to the side to find the men holding tightly onto me.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could manage, they didn’t even understand what I was saying but I just wanted them to know how awful I felt.

A man reached for me embracing me in his arms, I held him back. I could feel under the material of his clothes, his thin frame, I could feel every rib and bone as I hugged him.

He sobbed into my shoulder whispering in German, I didn’t understand what exactly he was saying but it sounded like he was thanking us.

“Liebgott, Liebgott!” Winters called from the front of the group. My heart stopped. Lieb, my best friend, my rock. He had no idea his own people were one of the main targets in Hitlers regime.

I watched Lipton move back through the crowd yelling Lieb’s name. Joe and Don stood guard just outside the gate, guns in hand.

Lipton brought him back through the crowd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, he glanced over to find my gaze.

Joe tilted his head, without words he was asking me if I was alright. I weakly nodded my head still wrapping my arms around the German man who wept into my shoulder.

There was no way I could stop Lieb from finding out, and it would break him. All I could do was be there for my friend.

Lipton spurred the men into action, instructing the men to give these people rations, blankets, food and water anything we could spare.

The man holding me stepped back collapsing to the floor, I glanced around looking for water.

“Water, can I get some water over here!” I yelled, Babe moved quickly holding out a canteen for me to take.

I unscrewed the lid, pouring water into the man’s mouth. He was exhausted, as if he was holding on to the last of his strength until help came. When he knew he was safe he finally let go.

I moved from person to person, tending to their ailments. But most of them I couldn't do much for, it wasn’t like they were actively bleeding out like all the other injuries I had become adjusted to. They were sick and starving.

The only thing I could do was offer food and water. But each time I lifted my head the numbers grew, the more that gathered, the more ill they looked.

A man approached me holding another in his arms. The man in his arms looked so weak, nothing to him but skin and bone, so pale he was almost translucent.

The prisoner holding the man spoke quickly in German, his eyes pleading with me to help. I held out my arms as he passed over the very ill man.

I let out a gasp as he was placed in my arms, he weighed almost nothing, I could feel every piece of him under my fingertips.

I knelt to the ground holding the German man in my lap, trying to figure out what I could do to help him.

“How can I help you?” I muttered under my breath.

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man that lay in my arms said. I tilted my head listening to his whispered words.

“Lieb!” I called, he rushed over kneeling next to me.

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man repeated himself.

“He wants you to sing for him.” Lieb said softly. I nodded at the man, if that's what he wanted I would do anything.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” I sang quietly to the dying man, the song my mother used to sing as a lullaby to me.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.” The man reached his hand up cupping my face as I sang for him. A tear slipped down my cheek. Lieb sat close and watched us. His own eyes glistened.

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” The man smiled at me, more tears falling down my cheeks as I held him in my arms.

“When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.” The man brushed away my tears, as his hand fell back down to his side. His breathing faded.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” A sob left me as the man stared up at the sky.

I let go of his hand, resting it by his side. I moved from underneath him, lying him gently on the floor.

Joe encased me in his arms as I sobbed into his chest. He pulled away, I looked up to find Don standing over us. He opened his arms for me, I stood from my position on the floor and moved into his embrace. His hand ran down my back as I cried.

We pulled apart, Lieb had gone and gotten a blanket. He gave it to me to lay over the man. I bent down, closing his eyes to make him at peace and gently placed the blanket over his body.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered as I stood again. I wiped my tears away.

Lieb was called away to translate, as Don and I moved around the camp, trying our best to help the men who came to us.

We stuck close to each other not wanting to stray from the other’s side.

I kept glancing over my shoulder to find Lieb with the officers and one of the German men. He was translating for them. I was just waiting for the bomb to be dropped, the truth to be revealed.

“Everything ok?” Don asked, I shook my head.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming closer.

“Don, this camp. These aren’t prisoners of war.” I started, unsure of how I was going to explain this to him. His brows furrowed as he listened.

“These people are innocent. They were dragged from their homes, away from their families. The only thing they have in common is that they are different.” There were so many groups here, but anyone who was ‘imperfect’ or ‘different’ was casted out.

“What do you mean?” Don couldn’t understand that these people did nothing wrong. I’m sure his mind went to why would they lock these people up if they were innocent?

“Jews, Poles, Roma, musicians, people with disabilities, people of colour, this is who they have captured. And this isn’t the only one! There are thousands of these camps, some far worse than this. Don, Hilter wants a superior race, anyone who doesn’t fit that bill he’s exterminating.” Don couldn’t stop the horror in his eyes as he realised my words.

“You’re saying there are more of these camps? That more people are in this condition?” Don asked, his eyes flicking around our surroundings imaging more of these exact situations.

“They split up the families, women and children together and then the men together. These camps cover all of Germany and some other countries as well.” I explained the best I could to Don, who didn’t look like he was able to wrap his head around the information spilling from my lips.

“Wait, how do you know this?” He asked his brows furrowed together as he glanced over at me.

I bit my tongue, this wasn’t the time to expose my true self, all of this was too much in itself.

“The nurses have been talking about it, I didn’t quite believe it till now.” I lied through my teeth, but Don didn’t notice, he was too wrapped up in the scene playing before us.

“What are we going to do?” He asked, his sweet eyes full of sorrow as he looked over each person that walked in front of us.

“I don’t know?” I answered honestly, as I stared off into the distance.

I again glanced over to Lieb who was translating for the officers. Each man with their own look of horror and shock on their face. I bit my lip, waiting and watching.

“Juden, Juden.” The prisoner they were talking to repeated. I didn’t need to be translated, I could see it clearly on Joe’s face what the man had said.

“They’re Jews.” Lieb uttered, in his own disbelief and rage. Lieb was a loyal man. This camp, this attack, was on his own people, his family.

“Lieb knows.” I told Don who was giving water to a man. I wanted to run over and hug him, but he was keeping his composure, still translating for the officers. So I turned my back and helped the men who gathered before me.

The further we walked into the camp the more awful it became. The huts the men were living in were burned down to the foundations, burnt skeletons still resided in the ash and rubble.

“Jesus Christ!” Don muttered covering his face with a piece of fabric, the smell was so strong it almost made it unbearable to breathe.

“Look at their arms.” Don pointed out two men who lay still in the ruins. Numbers etched into the flesh on their wrists.

“Like cattle.” Babe shook his head. We walked in silence through it all.

We helped as much as we could, going into the huts and bringing people out. Each time I stepped inside, my heart clenched and cracked, it was tearing me up.

The tears had stopped long ago, there was nothing more left to cry. I just needed to help, I think at some point I switched off, just to maintain some sanity, because before I knew it we were back in the beds of the trucks.

#band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #band of brothers fanfic #easy company #joe toye #dick winters #bill guarnere #emily lane #babe hefferon #lewis nixon #joe liebgott

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yourlocalwriterandreader3451 · 1 month

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The Runt - Billy the Kid

Warnings for this chapter: racism, Jesse being a prick, hints at hate criming, trauma response?

Chapter Fourteen

Laurie sat in the house quietly next to Billy, drawing in her sketchbook while she listened to Frank explain exactly what his plan was. Her long, red hair slightly fell in her eyes as she finished the details of Artax’s face, looking up as Frank continued yapping like those little dogs all the rich women had.

“The plan is for us to join forces and ride across the Pecos River and head on into Lincoln County,” Frank explained, “You all know anything about Lincoln County?” Everyone shook their heads instead of Laurie, who nodded, she knew very little of Lincoln County, but she still knew about it.

“What do you know about it then, Little Red?,” Frank questioned as he leaned over an empty chair, staring intently at the 13-year-old in front of him.

“Not much, my best friend used to live there, he said it was pretty wild which was why he moved,” Laurie explained quietly.

“Well, your friend was right, it was a wild place, and it still is,” Frank said, “The most important thing is there’s no real law in Lincoln County. They’ve got a fort and a handful of soldiers, but most of the law comes from the barrel of the gun.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in as the gang listened intently. “There’s a big player in Lincoln. His name’s Lawrence P. Murphy. He owns stores, he owns cattle, he supplies Fort Stanton and the reservation offices there with grain, cattle, horses, everything you guys need.”

Laurie listened carefully as she looked up at Billy who seemed to be listening just as hard as the other guys in the gang, she rested her head on his shoulder as Frank continued speaking.

“And, naturally, he wants to protect his operation,” Frank continued, “And that’s where we come in. His cattle regularly gets stolen, and he’s got criminal types moving in from Santa Fe and elsewhere tryin’ to muscle in on his other businesses. So, he needs his own people to discourage them, and he’s prepared to pay good money to get ‘em. I think he’ll even take the girl too, if he’s desperate enough.” Frank looked at Jesse. “What do you say?”

“Oh, I think we could probably help him out, right boys?,” Jesse asked as he looked back at the gang, who all murmured in agreement, some nodding their heads. Laurie shrugged, she wasn’t sure if she would be of use to protecting cattle.

She was a runt, of course.

And what kind of runt is capable of protecting cattle?

The young teenager sighed, taking a flask out of her satchel, it was filled to the brim with whiskey, and just as she was about to take a sip the flask was taken out of her hand by Billy. She looked up at him and he shook his head, he knew damn well how lightweight she was, and he also knew that she was far too young to even be thinking about alcohol.

“And, Billy… I need to know where you stand in all of this,” Frank addressed, causing Billy to look up from Laurie and back at the older man. Laurie did the same before her gaze went back to Billy, wondering what he was going to say about the offer, because wherever Billy goes, Laurie will go as well. “If you join us, I’ll guarantee Murphy’s gonna hire us. And I’ll tell you something else. We’ll make sure that you get the biggest slice of the cake when it comes time for remuneration, and I can also tell you that the little dog you got following around you is safe.”

“Just… wait a minute there, Frank,” Jesse interjected, Laurie could practically smell the jealousy in the blonde man’s tone, and she took that as her sign to tune out, block out the argument that was about to ensue. And she did just that, she opened her sketchbook again and began drawing. She had gotten pretty good at zoning out whenever people began to raise their voice.

Thanks a lot, Jesse.

Later that day, everyone was saddling up their horses and packing the mules, getting ready to move out. Artax nickered, pawing the ground slightly as Laurie placed the saddle on his back before tightening the girth and the cinch, patting the young stallion’s neck with a soft smile. The horse looked over as one of the gang members trotted into the camp with a kid in the saddle with him.

“Hey, guys! Came across this Mexican kid in town,” he called as everyone looked over, the kid was around Laurie’s age and he looked like he was scared shitless. “The kid said he’s looking for William Bonney.”

Billy looked at Laurie before handing her the reins of his horse and walking over, tipping his hat at the kid in the saddle.

“I’m WIlliam Bonney,” Billy said, “Who are you?”

“Guillermo,” the kid replied, Laurie cocked her head to the side, she wondered why the kid seemed petrified.

“Hello, Guillermo,” Billy greeted, keeping his tone friendly as he offered the child a smile. “Why are you looking for me?”

“I have a message for you… from Melquiades Segura.” It was after the kid said this did Laurie really start to pay attention, she loosely tied Artax and Billy’s horse to the pasture fence before walking over to where Billy stood so that she could get a better hear.

“Segura?,” Laurie questioned, her face creasing with concern for their old friend. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The kid took a deep breath as he looked down. “He told me that you and your friend might be in El Paso.”

“What’s his message?,” Billy questioned.

“They have arrested him unfairly and he’s in jail. He needs your help,” the kid explained, shifting uncomfortably on the mule he sat on.

“Why was he arrested?,” Laurie asked, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she exchanged looks with an equally as concerned Billy.

“For the killing of Don Ortiz,” Guillermo replied quietly, not looking at Laurie or Billy at all. “They are arguing to hang him in three days.”

Laurie’s heart dropped upon that last sentence, as she looked back up at Billy with a visibly panicked expression, the poor girl didn’t know how to process any of this information.

“Where is he?,” Billy asked.

“In Chihuahua, Mr. Bonney,” Guillermo answered.

“What’s he saying?,” one of the gang members, Ian asked.

“He’s saying that an old friend of Laurie and I is in jail in Chihuahua, and he needs our help,” Billy explained as he sighed, he knew he and Laurie had to help their friend. They couldn’t just let him hang for a murder he never committed.

“We’re setting out for Lincoln,” Jesse argued, he sounded like a stubborn bull. “It’s all been arranged.” Billy looked at Jesse before looking back at Guillermo before he then looked at Laurie.

“You can all go ahead, Laurie and I will catch up wit you guys later, this won’t take long,” Billy told Jesse before he walked over to where Laurie had tied his horse and Artax, untying both horses before handing Artax’s reins to Laurie.

“Do you really believe this kid?,” Jesse asked,, approaching the duo with his hands on his hips, he clearly didn’t believe that Guillermo was telling the truth. “He’s a Mexican. They’re all liars. All of them.”

Laurie stopped when she heard Jesse say that as she looked at him, “Shut the fuck up.” She snapped, her voice rising and her tone was clear. She didn’t like that way of thinking. Laurie never snapped at anybody, especially Jesse. And it was safe to say everyone at camp was taken off guard by the uncharacteristic actions coming off of Laurie.

Jesse looked at Laurie like she had just taken his gun. “You’re entitled to your own opinion, runt, but you’ll learn that you’re wrong when you grow up.”

“You know, I’ve heard you saying the same shit about us Irish,” Billy suddenly said, looking over at Jesse, who glared at Billy as well.

“The men who ran my father out of town, put him out of business, they were Irish,” Jesse argued, as if what had happened to his father justified his prejudice. “And I never held that against you.”

Billy didn’t say anything as he shook his head before going back to tending to his horse. Laurie has heard Jesse talk like that a lot when she was growing up after she took him in back at the old ranch, and it never failed to upset her, especially because Dale died because of people with that kind of mentality.

Every single night when Laurie was little, she’d wish upon every shooting star that the people in the world would stop being hateful towards people who are different, but those wishes are yet to come true.

Maybe they may never even come true.

Who fucking knows anymore, because according to people like Jesse, everyone is equal, but some people are more equal than others.

A/N:

I have nothing to say except stan Laurie

Tag:

@slutforsnow

#the runt #billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy mccarty #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x oc #runt of the litter

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saratinz · 1 year

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Freak On a Leash

pairing ➩ Frank Castle x Famous News Anchor!Reader

warnings ➩ cursing, enemies to lovers, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names (sweetheart, doll, princess, honey, whore)

synopsis ➩ Frank teaches Y/n a lesson.

word count ➩ 1.9k

a/n ➩ (very) loosely based on 'Freak On a Leash' by Korn

You try to relax, I mean, you should feel comfortable in your own house, but something is off. You already made your security team check the whole area, and they found nothing. Slowly, you make your way to your bedroom, changing into your robe for the night. For the next five minutes, all you do is watch as your ceiling fan makes circles. When you finally close your eyes, you hear a noise. It’s footsteps. You don’t have time to call anyone, so you tiptoe to your safe, grabbing the small gun from its home. Scared for your life, you crawl under your king bed, gripping onto your weapon like a vice.

You listen intently as the intruder searches nearby rooms, knowing that they would inevitably find the place where you sleep. And as he opens the door, you realize the horror movie like nature of this nightmare you’re living. “Honey, I’m home.” You recognize that voice, but, it couldn’t be. Fuck. “Personally, I would’ve jumped out the window, it’s only a two story fall. I don’t know what you were thinking, hiding in the most obvious room in the house.” To be completely honest, you weren’t really thinking at all. “I’m kinda disappointed, I always thought you were smart. You in here?” He asks, checking the walk-in closet. He’s a vigilante, sob story, and the man who saved your life, yet you had no problem dragging his already dishonored name through the mud. “Fuck, did I just say all this shit to no one." He starts to walk out the door, but you are soon petrified as he drops down to the ground, looking directly at you. “There you are, why don’t you come out?” You try to aim, but he’s already standing up, so you make the risky move of sticking your arm out and shooting up. It seems as though he knew exactly what you were gonna do, as your wrist feels the pressure of his combat boot. You drop your gun in defeat, desperate to get him off of you, and he swiftly kicks it away. As you come out from under your bed, you are very aware of the gun that is pointed in your direction. You move like a turtle, pushing yourself up to stand. Your mind is still shocked that you were right about the man before you.

“Frank, I, I th-thought you were dead.”

“No sweetheart, I’m alive.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.” You demand, as stern as possible.

“Alright… doll.”

“Shut up.”

“Nuh uh, I’m the one with the gun here. You’re supposed to be begging on your knees for me not to shoot you.”

“If you wanted me dead, I’d be six feet underground right now.”

“Alright smart ass, what am I here for then?”

“You’re here to make me pay for the things I’ve said about you on TV.”

“Wow, you’re 2 for 2.”

“My question is, what are you gonna do to me?”

“Well, you said I torture the innocent, but that’s not true is it? Not even you believed it, but you are so money-hungry you don’t care what you have to say. I wanna show you what I do to pathetic liars. I see through your contrived generosity, and I’ve figured out what you truly are.”

“And what’s that Frank? A selfish bitch? A greedy monster?”

“No princess, you’re an attention whore. And that’s why I’m going to give you every bit of mine.”

“What does that even mean?” He starts walking towards you, and doesn’t stop until your back hits the wall. You draw in a sharp breath.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” You put on your best brave face.

“Fucking brat.” He harshly grabs your throat, and you refuse to look at him “Are you really gonna make me show you? Because I’m not going to go easy on you.” Apprehensively, you nod. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” He whispers slow and sultry, your eyes immediately darting to his. In record speed, your lips are on his. His tongue invades your mouth. You give up all control, praying that you’ll survive the likes of Frank Castle. His hands wander to your hips, pulling your waist towards him. Your hands wander to his hair, pushing his head towards you.

He starts to retreat, biting your bottom lip and causing a moan to fall from your lips. “What happens now?”

“Well, if you wanna be a good girl, I’d like to show you how to use that mouth properly.”

“And if I wanna be bad?”

“I’ll spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a week.” Knowing that punishment isn’t a viable option considering your job requires you not to groan in pain every time you take a seat, you grab his shoulders and turn him around. You stare directly into his eyes as you undo his belt and pull it from all loops of his black jeans, throwing it across the room. “You’ve clearly done this before.”

“Shut up, Castle.” You are quickly pushed to your knees. You fumble with his button and zipper, and you get excited as you pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles, revealing the largest dick you’ve ever seen in person. Your eyes widen, as if to say ‘How the hell am I supposed to fit all that in my mouth?’. He picks up your concern and is quick to respond.

“We’ll make it fit, princess.” That bit of reassurance and encouragement was all you needed to start licking a stripe from base to tip. He has no reaction. You gather some saliva and spit onto his length, then you use your hand to jerk him off. “Start sucking, sweetheart, you do not want to test my patience.” With that, you take his tip in, bracing yourself with one hand on his thigh, and the other stroking what you can’t reach. Your jaw is already starting to hurt, Great. His hands move to your head, creating a makeshift ponytail and giving him control over the speed. And the one he sets, well, it’s absolutely brutal to say the least. You’re taking almost all of him every thrust, and every single one hits the back of your throat. You’re sobbing, eye makeup is running down your cheeks, making Frank go feral. He loves that he has already ruined you, even though he’s no where near finished with abusing your holes. You tap his thigh repeatedly, communicating to him that you need a break. When he pulls out, you immediately gasp for air. You close your eyes, trying to stop tears from flooding your face. “Get up.” And you do just that, taking his previous threat very seriously. Suddenly, you are dragged to your bed. He pulls his jeans all the way off and maneuvers you so that you are face down across his lap. He pulls the satin fabric of your negligee up your back. “You’re such a slut, not wearing any panties.” SMACK.

“What the fuck? I did what you asked.” SMACK.

“Yeah, you were giving me best head of my life.” SMACK.

“Ow, then why are you doing this?” SMACK.

“Because good girls don’t stop until I tell them.” SMACK

He starts to hit you so hard and fast, over and over, that your brain goes blank, apologizing after every blow. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’M SORRY!” You plead, starting to cry again, he comes to a halt.

“It’s okay baby, sorry, I was too rough. Do you want to stop? You did great, I was gonna pull you off soon anyway because I didn’t want to cum until I was inside of you. Don’t feel bad honey, I was just being a meanie.”

“No, don’t stop. And don’t feel bad, the spanking was hot, I promise.”

“Really?” He smirks.

“You wanna feel?” You ask tauntingly, turning around to straddle him. You take his shirt off, then grab his hand and move it to your aching core.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so sexy. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you on TV. Can’t believe I’m about to fuck Y/n fucking Y/l/n.” He brags, rubbing small circles on your clit.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my actual name.”

“Well don’t get used to it, princess.” He says as he unties and removes your robe to put your naked body on display, hard nipples and all. You roll your eyes, but secretly get even wetter as he uses pet names. That is certainly a weakness of yours. He stands up with your legs wrapped around his waist, then proceeds to turn around and throw you back on the mattress. He looks so hot as he crawls between your legs. The pleasure you feel as he presses his cock against your clit is palpable. “If you want me, you’re going to have to beg.”

“Please.”

“C’mon you can do better than that.”

“Please, Frank.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you until you convince me.”

“Fine. I want your cock inside me, I need it actually. I’ve been such a good girl, I deserve this. So please, fuck me until I can’t walk. Fuck me so hard I forget my own name.” Your vision goes blurry as you feel the stretch of your tight hole. “Fuckkkk.” Your legs wrap around his waist, inviting him to go even deeper. Once he bottoms out, it’s mere seconds before he’s pulling out and slamming back in. The man above you shows no mercy, and your eyes are already rolling to the back of your head. In this room, all one can hear is the cacophony of moans, skin slapping against skin, and the faint buzz of your A/C turning on.

“Fuck you feel amazing. Are you gonna let me use this pussy whenever I want?”

“Yes, Frank, I’m yours.”

“That’s fucking right, I own your body. I’ll do whatever I want, whenever I want.” You feel your stomach burn, a tell-tale sign you are about to orgasm.

“Please, Frank, can I cum?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You finally get your release, and because the overstimulation is so much, you latch onto him, forging scratch marks on his back. He leans down to kiss away the pain. Frank makes you feel so good, rutting into you so fast and hard that you can already feel a second orgasm building. “Do you want me to fill you up? Let me breed you like the whore you are?”

“Cum inside me, Frank.” You practically scream. You reach your release before he does, but as soon as he feels you squeeze him, he spurts his warm liquid onto your cervix.

“Shit, that was amazing.” You admit.

“I was serious about what I said, we’re going to do this again.”

“Good.” He pulls out and rolls beside of you. Surprisingly, he lets you wrap your arms around him and snuggle your head into his chest. You fall asleep quickly, comforted by every muscle in his scarred body.

When you wake up he’s gone, but he left a note. It reads, “Went to fight some bad guys, but I’ll be back tonight to ruin you again. Love, F.C.”

Frank Castle is going to be the death of you.

#hate sex #but not really #frank castle smut #frank castle enemies #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle #the punisher #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #jon bernthal #smut

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renee-writer · 23 days

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A Rescue Chapter 28

AO3

“Good news then, brother?” Her smile holds a hint of humor.

He lowers Claire to the ground, keeping a hold on her in case she is dizzy.

“Aye Jenny, the best. She is but eight weeks making it impossible for me to be the father.”

His sister ‘s eyes grow dark. “So the wee bosum lied. She slept with Simon more than once.”

“Or,” Claire offers, “she was with someone else.”

All still as her statement lands.

Ellen breaks it. “It doesn’t matter, eh? Jamie is well and truly free of her.”

Jamie breaths out. “Aye mam. Just so. Simon can fight her, if he wishes. I am done,” a chill goes down his spine and he recalls Randall, “Let’s get inside, eh?”

He leads his lasses in.

Randall paces in the cell. His brief is working on getting him out. Once free, he intends to find that witch that doesn’t care for his brother. That he wasn’t properly seen too, no! It will not stand.

He will see him buried with his widow by his side, whether she wishes it or not. Then since she couldn’t seem to make a baby with Frank, maybe he would have more luck. He smiles just thinking about it.

Frank has always been the weaker of the two. Yes, he will do what his twin couldn’t. See that the Randall name continues.

Ellen frowns at her son. “What is it, Jamie”

“I am not sure, mam. There is just an eerie feeling. I need to make sure he is still locked away.”

Claire is in the other room with Jenny. He rings the jail.

“Jonathan Randall? Aye,” to his mam, “they are checking,” a moment or two later, “Aye I am. Christ when? Why wasn’t I or… I see. Well thank you.”

Ellen waits.

“He was released on bail two hours ago. Claire was to be notified,” as he speaks, he moves through the house, every door and window will be secure, “someone messed up and thought someone else had done it.”

As a farmer, he was allowed a gun. It is kept safe in a high gun safe, a safe he is now opening.

“Jamie!”

He looks down at her. “Just in case mam. He is evil. I will take no chances.”

He goes to tell Claire.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #a rescue #chapter 28 #jamie and claire #outlander fandom #cannon divergence #modern au

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hangonsnoopy19 · 1 year

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What do you guys think Frank and Bill are like together on the bad nights?

Frank sees the good in so much, but he also probably watched his family and friends die like everyone else did. He saw Baltimore QZ wiped out. When he started for Boston he was originally in a group of ten. Frank values his home environment and feels that taking care of it is an expression of love. And then he saw his whole world burn down around him multiple times. His home was destroyed multiple times.

When he has nightmares he rarely cries out… that’s a learned response because it’s dangerous to make much noise when you’re on the road. But he still has bad memories, night terrors, and he whimpers in his sleep like a wounded animal, thrown back to a time when he was terrified and alone and starving.

He still wakes up Bill when he does this because Bill is always half-listening for his alarms, so he hears Frank whimpering even when Frank is being quiet. Bill rolls over in bed and sees Frank pale and sweating and panting in his sleep, face an unconscious mask of fear, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s read somewhere that you shouldn’t wake up sleepwalkers and he’s not sure if trying to shake Frank out of a bad dream will make it worse. He hates seeing Frank in pain, but Bill accidentally causing Frank more pain would be even worse.

Finally, he pushes himself forward in the dark, slowly, towards Frank. Frank stills in his sleep, animal instinct, waiting to see if the movement is a predator. Bill pauses, then moves forward again, snuggles close, rests his arm over Frank’s body. He tries to project comfort: you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re not trapped, never trapped, you’re safe. I’m here, standing between you and whatever you’re afraid of. I’m here.

Bill has never been good at verbal reassurance but he tries to make his body big and soft and strong and comforting. Frank doesn’t wake up all the way, but slowly the stiffness in his body seems to ease and he molds his body to Bill’s. He goes back to sleep, more peaceful now.

Bill doesn’t really have nightmares like Frank does. The world ending wasn’t the same kind of traumatic experience for him. He dreams of his mother sometimes but it’s not the same.

When Bill has bad nights it’s because he’s in an anxiety spiral. As he’s drifting off to sleep, enjoying Frank there, in his bed, in his arms, it occurs to him how fragile this all is. He starts imagining a world without Frank, or a world where Frank is left alone without Bill. Of Frank being hurt… of Frank being hurt by Infected. Of Frank becoming Infected. Of Raiders coming and not being able to stop them. Of raiders or slavers finding Frank alone and…

Before he knows it, he’s vibrating with anxiety, with the need to check the traps, the locks, the guns, the water supply. He’s almost sick with it, nauseous. He makes list after list in his head but it’s not enough.

Frank is here in his arms, right where he should be, but what if someone or something comes in? What if Bill missed some hole in the fence, some weak spot in the armor? What if…?

Frank finds him outside in the dark, gun ready, pacing and snarling, back and forth in front of the house. Hyper-vigilant and unable to wind down. Barely recognizing Frank when he approaches. The first time Frank finds Bill like this it genuinely scares Frank because Bill is almost feral and refuses any attempts to soothe him. He won’t let Frank hold him. He needs to be ready. He needs both arms free and both eyes open.

Frank doesn’t try to touch him. Instead, he goes back inside, puts on his shoes and jacket, grabs a flashlight, and limbers up for a run.

“Go back inside,” Bill growls when he sees him. “Go back to bed.”

“Nope,” Frank says with a cheerfully oblivious tone he knows drives Bill nuts. “I’m going for a run. You wanna come? Or are you gonna make me run in the dark alone?”

However long later, after several circuits of the perimeter - and they can see as they go that nobody is out there, that the fence is fine, the traps are fine, security is fine, everything is fine - Frank drags a sweating, cursing Bill back into the house and upstairs and straight into bed. They’ll have to wash the sheets in the morning, but it doesn’t matter because, exhausted, Bill finally sleeps.

And after the bad nights, Bill and Frank spend most of the day following together in bed.

#tlou #tlou fic #mini fic #bill x frank #tlou frank #tlou bill #strawberry babies #episode 3 lives rent free in my soul #tlou show

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the-shining-river · 2 years

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Kastle

No but seriously, the speed with which those two fall for each other is plain ridiculous. Like, yes, they had this connection in DD s02, and there was trust, and this brutal kind of raw honesty that they demanded from each other, but there was also all that active murdering going on and what not.

And now almost a year has passed, Matt is recently presumed killed by a building, Foggy has moved up in life for a while now, and Karen seems lonely but keeps doing her thing, and then Frank shows up and--says he wanted to say hi but acknowledges she might be angry with him? and asks about the gun in her bag as a way to remind her that she has all the power in this situation? and is proud of her for it? and the way they just keep wanting to smile at each other?? Despite Frank’s problems, it feels like such a novel, light-hearted side of him, I don’t think Karen ever got a chance to see it before? A timidly smiling Frank?? (my heart, ugh)

And of course she’s hesitant, but he keeps his distance as non-threatening as possible, and she dares tease him for his hipster looks (a bruise-free Frank is something novel too), and he goes and jokes right back. And then she asks, because she has to, because that’s what she said would make him dead to her before, and Frank answers honestly that his ‘business’ is finished, so this huge problem is not dividing them anymore. And that’s when she loses her shoes and drops her guard for a moment and really looks at him.

“I need to know if you said anything.” “God no. No. Frank, you should know me better than that.”

*Screechinggg* How? Why? When would he have learned that about Karen? From how she kept chasing the truth about his family, from how she lied to cops for him? Point is, Karen thought Frank knew her like that.

Frank asks for her help so nicely -- meaning he came to her for her competence, and I don’t think that’s something Karen experiences very often, being often dismissed as that cute, leggy blonde (with an attitude) (I think), and this time he lets helping him be her own free decision, instead of that time he used her as bait in the diner.

And it’s already a bit much, this role reversal, and this lack of active murdering standing between them, and him looking good-- Karen needs to sit and drink some beer as she already lets tiny smiles escape while she asks her sensible investigator questions, and then he just kills her with those flowers and that smile.

And Karen kills Frank right back with how easy it is to talk to her, to get her help -- no manipulation, no quid pro quo bullshit, nothing.

“Okay.” “Okay.”

Frank puts the roses on the coffee table and steps back again, giving her space so she’d feel safe with the dead man, the murderer, and then Karen just crosses that distance again, with a HUG. When was the last time someone brought flowers for Karen Page? (even if rationalizing it as a means of communication) When was the last time someone hugged Frank Castle? And it’s such a tight, good, heartfelt hug, my gods. And considering the grand total of their previous physical interaction consists of one (1) instance of Frank bodily shielding her from bullets??? I’m ded.

And sure, things start to get complicated again soon enough, with Frank wanting to go after Micro, and Karen unhappy that he’s contemplating killing people again, but this here, this felt like such a SOLID new beginning for them. The physical freedom and the respect/consideration and the more equal footing. On top of that honesty and sense of connection they had built before, the inevitability of this collision is SO beautiful to watch ;___;

#kastle #kastle meta #frank castle #karen page #beng flailing and overanalyzing #the contents of her new trashcan #so much fun!#why did nobody tell me The Punisher is such a fun show to watch #no seriously #beng's shiny meta

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blackgirl0nline · 2 years

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Roman >Shiv or Analyzing a Moment in Succession’s Season 3 Finale

I was watching Succession’s Season 3 finale “All The Bells Toll”, and I thought, the way Shiv and Roman deal with Kendall’s confession gives a microcosmic look at these two characters.

Big take away, Shiv doesn’t dirty herself.

When Ken is crying in front of them, Roman falls to his brother’s level even after grumbling that Shiv is leaving him to deal with all the feelings. Roman makes jokes to help lighten the mood but Shiv fucks off to make a call. In general Roman is willing to get into the weeds. That’s why Roman’s “I’m dumb but I’m smart”, works. Under Gerri’s watchful eye with his feet firmly on the ground, Roman has the most practical wins of the main siblings- despite Shiv telling him he’s not getting the company because “[Logan] thinks something’s wrong with you.” He’s the practical choice.

One of the reasons I dislike Shiv the most of the siblings is her sense of entitlement. I love a female character with ambition, but Shiv starts the show with no business experience and in a differnt field no less! In a very emblematic moment, during season two a gun threat forces a deal to the table in a safe-room. Kendall and Logan are working in tandem to sway Reah Jarrell (who calls Shiv out for being smart… but not as smart as she thinks she is) and Shiv is there… occasionally hindering progress.

Now I do have some love for Shiv because she’s vying for power in a male dominated space, and watching her face sexism from her own family… hits close (her father’s admission that her being a woman is an issue despite having some faith in her, and the frankly vile Nirvana song played over her first speech as company President). But she still rubs me the wrong way- perhaps her leveraging Roman’s dick pick as a sexual assault-shaped-threat against Gerri and her treatment of Tom leave a bad taste in my mouth.

In my opinion her best moves are people, she gets Tom into the company and has him continually work his way up on both of their behalves, but she even fumbles that, underestimating Tom and his wants. Tom works well for Shiv because he can do all the heavy lifting- she doesn’t even seem that miffed that he might be going to jail for the sins of her father (proverbially speaking… no wait literally).

Her position above her husband works for her (but it might have fuelled his betrayal). Roman in contrast- in his relationship with Gerri- and Logan, seems comfortable working underneath a more competent figure. And so he does the work he can. We see this hidden capability when he’s trying his best to comfort Kendall. He’s a bit to unserious but it’s in his nature to speak frank truths.

The general coldness (mostly Shiv in this episode but Roman carries it too) seems to be a holdover from their mother- the comparisons between Caroline and Shiv abound. They’re both each other’s “onions”, they both have holdups about wanting children- both go through with it anyways, Roman makes weird sexual jokes about both of them, and they both have nuptials that close out a season. Caroline shirks off any emotional attachment to her children going so far as to avoid Kendall after a request for a heart-to-heart. Surely all the siblings are a bit fucked up but Shiv seems to be the one who takes after their mother the most.

To close out, I was looking at the prices for the suit Ken was wearing in that scene. It was Loro Piana outfit over five thousand dollars (not to mention the vaguely upsetting 100k watch). While I was worrying about the suit being ruined I remembered that these clothes- their prices mean absolutely nothing to these guys. But even then I distinctly felt that Shiv, dressed all in white, always prim and proper, hair always well coiffed, with the right opinions, would never sit down in the messy sand with her brothers. She stands a ways away, taking a phone call, or gingerly patting Ken’s head.

#succession #succession meta #succession season 3 #Shiv Roy #Kendall Roy #Roman Roy #Logan Roy #succession season 4 #all the bells say

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liesareeasier · 2 years

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‘Trust The Living’ Chapter 4

A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Inspired Smut Fan-Fiction

*mature content warning*

Word Count: 3,111 words :)

By: Me, MoonFlowerWrites On WattPad ‘Trust The Living’

•••

We weren't sure if Merle was heading back to the group, and knew he wasn't in a good head space. I hoped everyone back at the quarry was alright. I didn't know Merle, other than meeting him briefly on that rooftop, but knew he carried a rage that wasn't easily controlled.

I tried to put these thoughts out of my head. There was no use. Once my anxiety started creeping in, it wasn't easily quelled. The night had already darkened the sky; the most dangerous time to be caught out in the open was underway.

The easy trip back to camp suddenly came to an end. As we came up the hill beside the quarry, we began to hear an eruption of gunshots and screaming. Holy fucking shit, what is going on?

Had Merle actually come seeking revenge? Was another group invading? We had been relatively safe from the dead up here, but had our time run out?

As we reached camp, the screams and gunfire were now deafening. The sight was horrifying. Geeks were swarming the area. The still-lit campfire illuminated the carnage in an eerie, orange glow. Blood splatter was all over the cars. Members of the group were laid dead, being torn apart by geeks. They were everywhere. At least 20, maybe even more. I could hear the children screaming and knew we had to act quickly.

"Rick, the guns!" I screamed, as he tossed me a pistol.

We instantly get to work. I don't know what came over me. We had killed a few walkers on the way here, Daryl and Rick doing most of the work. They seemed to be the most comfortable with it, and I didn't mind. We didn't have a choice now, though. We have to protect these people. Our people.

I ran with Glenn, towards Shane, who was doing his best until we'd arrived. I plunged my knife into the skull of one of the dead and grabbed the pistol that Rick had given me. Thank the universe we had found the guns. I cocked the pistol, firing a round at a geek who was uncomfortably close behind Glenn. He screamed a 'thank-you' to me, before firing a few shots of his own.

I've probably killed about 15 geeks at this point. Since the world as we knew it had ended, I considered myself pretty lucky. As much as getting stuck in Atlanta had sucked, I was grateful to have had the hideout that I did. A part of me had always wanted to live in a city apartment, before all this. I guess it felt like an upside-down version of that fantasy. I felt safe from the dead there and didn't have much interest in stabbing dead people in the head.

Tonight, I had added a few to that list of kills... we quickly took out the rest of the dead and the reality of the attack began to set in.

When the quiet set in, I could hear Carol crying over her husband. His face and neck had been torn apart. He was such a cruel man that I only felt bad for Carol and her daughter, not for him. Just yesterday, I overheard people mentioning that he beat her. I guess he had hit her down at the quarry, and Shane had beat the shit out of him. What a last day on earth.

He deserved what he got. I know that sounds harsh, but I couldn't stand abusers. This world has no room for any more cruelty. The dead don't stay dead and to be frank, we didn't need scum like him making it any harder for the living.

I tear my eyes away from Carol and see Andrea kneeling on the ground. Her sister Amy was bleeding out from her neck and shoulder. No, I screamed in my head, not wanting to say anything out loud and add to her already visible pain.

She lets out a deafening cry and I can feel her pain. This can't be happening... She can't be losing her sister. I hadn't vibed with Andrea but I couldn't watch this.

I instantly couldn't get thoughts of Katie, my sister, out of my head. I was witnessing yet another person losing their sibling. My vision started to blur and I felt like the wind was getting knocked out of me. I clutched my chest and walked towards the edge of our camp, towards my tent. I hadn't checked for any more geeks but I needed a moment to myself.

Walking over to my tent, I see it has been completely trampled by the dead. At least I didn't leave my stuff and sleeping bag in here. There were items in my bag that I didn't want to lose or get damaged.

My tent looked ruined, though. The metal frame was bent strangely and the fabric was soaked in blood. Great, just what I need after a night like this. This was the last thing I could take. I have had enough.

What is the fucking point? What the fuck? What are we doing here? Camping out in the open when this could happen at any moment? Why are we pretending like it's okay to be this close to each other?

I need to stop. I need to calm down. Everything was hitting me all at once. I tried clenching my fists but my fingernails started to cut my palms from gripping them so right. I realized I was on the verge of a panic attack when the darkest thought crossed my mind.

What if the same thing already happened to Katie? I'm fooling myself by thinking I can have a happy ending with her. She's stronger than me. If she hasn't found me by now, if she hasn't made it, there's no chance for me... I should leave. I should give up. Maybe I'm not strong enough for this. Maybe I should have given up a long time ago. I should have known I was too weak for this world...

I started wishing that the men from earlier had just killed me, when a hand on my shoulder startled me. I was on the verge of tears and couldn't see straight as I turned around. I reached for my hammer, bringing it up and taking a step back.

"Woah, Woah! Put that fucking thing down! I'm alive, I'm alive!" A familiar rough voice spoke out. "You alright?" he asked, his hands raised defensively, keeping his distance. I had just almost swung at him.

Daryl. I could now make out his figure and instantly threw the hammer to the ground. I can't believe I had threatened him when he was just trying to help me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-" I didn't know what to say. My thoughts were racing. "My tent, and Andrea, and Carol, and today... I just needed a minute."

"It's okay, figured." He was being quite understanding, considering he had probably seen my mini breakdown and had almost been assaulted by me.

I had tried to walk away from everyone so nobody would see me. I didn't want to seem weak in front of them. I didn't want them to regret taking me in. I was already doubting myself, to have anyone else bear witness would have sent me over the edge.

"I don't know about the other shit, but let me take a look at this," Daryl continued as he walked past me and over to my tent. He picked up my hammer and handed it to me. My tent was laying in a bloody, mangled mess near where I had it set up earlier.

I don't know why he's offering to help me. I still haven't gotten a good read on Daryl. I think he likes it that way. He seems used to protecting himself. I felt bad for teasing him down at the quarry earlier. I know he's just as stressed as anyone, even though he hides it better than most, and I didn't want to add to that.

"It's fine Daryl, really. It's my problem. I can ask to stay in one of the cars or the RV or something until I can find a new one," I replied. I truly didn't want to be a burden on anyone. Resources were scarce as it is. "It's my fault for leaving my tent up. It was so easy to put up and down, I should have been more careful."

"Really, it's no problem. It's mostly this piece right here," Daryl said holding up a broken piece of the frame. "Should be an easy fix with a bar from an extra canopy..."

He trailed off what he was saying as he continued to examine the damage. "I'll take a better look in the morning. As for the rest of it, just wash the blood off, and you're good."

I think he actually cracked a smile at me but it was a little too dark to tell. The moonlight was dim tonight and the glow of the fire doesn't quite reach this part of the camp.

I appreciate him for being so kind to me. He had lost a lot today. We had never found Merle after we realized he had to cut off his hand in order to survive being left on that rooftop. Daryl had had a terrible day and here he was trying to lighten my mood.

"Well, seeing as we already had one invasion of the dead tonight, I'm not taking my chances down at the quarry until morning," I said looking at the bloody mess in front of me. My tent would just have to be cleaned tomorrow. I started looking around for Dale. Maybe he'd allow me stay in the RV for the night.

"Grab your sleeping bag. You can use my tent tonight." Daryl said to me.

"No it's alright, you helped enough. Thanks Daryl, really, don't worry about it." I replied, still in confusion at his niceness towards me. It was hard to let anyone in.

"Well, it's going to be empty anyways. I'm staying up on watch tonight. I'll sleep a couple of hours in the morning before we figure out where to go next. Ain't no way we're staying here after this." He wasn't going to let me say no to his offer. "Grab your sleeping bag, take my cot, get some sleep. You're no use to yourself if you don't get your head clear."

"Thank you, Daryl," I said while trying to meet his eyes the best I could in the darkness. I knew he must have seen me cry earlier and he wasn't making me feel bad for it. I could tell he was a little uncomfortable with my emotional response and was trying to fix it. I wanted to give him a handshake or a hug but didn't know if that would make him uncomfortable.

I walked over to the RV, grabbed both my pack and sleeping bag, and avoided anyone on my way back to Daryl's tent. I felt bad for ignoring Glenn. I noticed him looking at me as I grabbed my stuff, but he was talking to Rick and I could just find him in the morning. Thankfully nobody else tried to talk to me and I made my way over to Daryl quickly.

He was waiting for me when I got back, crossbow still slung on his back like it had been all day. He never went anywhere without that thing. Maybe I could go hunting with him soon, bag him a squirrel or something as a thank you, and he'd let me use it.

"It's not much, but you can sleep up on the cot. There are some old pillows, um, feel free to use one. Don't know how clean they are though, sorry. There's a light if you need it. Like I said, I'm staying up on watch, so I'll be right out here." He gave me a quick rundown.

I looked inside his tent to find a cot, a few pillows that looked clean enough, and a little table set up with a lantern and a few knives.

Daryl had been holding the tent door open with his arm for me to step in. He was so close to me, that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He seemed hesitant to enter with me, just staying outside. I either made him nervous or he was annoyed by me. I just really hoped he didn't regret offering me his tent. I had been reluctant to accept his offer, but I was so tired.

"Again Daryl, thank you. I seriously do appreciate this. Thank you isn't enough, though." I wanted to show him how grateful I was.

"If it pans out tomorrow, I'm going to go hunting for the group. It's the least I can do after all we've lost tonight. And I personally owe you some squirrels or rabbits for letting me stay in here. Daryl, I appreciate this so much." I leaned in for a half hug. He was stiff but let me hold him for a second before replying.

"Hell, I can't say no to an offer like that." He replied as I pulled away from him and I could definitely now see him smile in the low moonlight. "Wash that shit off your tent in the morning, and then we can go scrounge up something. Goodnight, Emma."

I had thought he had forgotten my name. I had introduced myself so quickly earlier and I wasn't exactly kind while doing so.

"I didn't think you remembered my name..." I didn't mean to say it out loud, sounding like a complete idiot.

"You did scream it at me earlier." Daryl quickly responded. "And you think I'm going to forget the name of the person that tried to help me save my dumbass brother today?" He rolled his eyes, but not in a condescending way. "Seriously? Goodnight Emma." He was almost offended that I thought our day together was meaningless to him.

"Goodnight Daryl." I smiled at him and held his gaze for a moment before he turned away. I liked the way my name sounded when he said it....

He didn't blame me for not finding Merle. That was a relief. Instead, he had essentially thanked me for helping him today. I felt grateful that I hadn't caused him any more pain. I could go to bed and put the horrors of the day behind me.

I turned on the lantern so that I could get changed into my pajamas. I felt safe enough to get out of my 'day clothes' with the others, and especially Daryl, keeping watch. I didn't think we would have to leave camp until the next day. I could just change back in the morning.

Luckily I didn't seem to get much blood on my clothes earlier, just a little on my face and arms. I really didn't want to have to wash all of my clothes along with my tent tomorrow.

I knew I had to get changed quickly, not wanting the light to attract any geeks to our location. I slipped off my jacket, shirt, and jeans, while leaving on my bralette and underwear.

I wet a rag from my bag, and used it to wash my face and body of blood. I would kill for a face cleanser and a moisturizer right now. I would have to grab some if I came across it. I missed any semblance of a routine, even if it was just skincare.

I started to wonder if Daryl could see me from outside the tent. The yellowish glow of the lantern provided plenty of light for me to retrieve my pajamas from my pack. I changed out of my panties, leaving my black bralette on, and began slipping my clean clothes on my tired body.

I didn't mind if he could see me. There was something about him that was drawing me in. I knew I was trying to deny it, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. Daryl seeing a glimpse of my silhouette from outside the tent could serve as a little 'thank-you' for him, for helping me earlier.

I laid down in my sleeping bag, on top of his cot. I pulled one of his pillows up so that I could rest my head. I was sore and trying to put off processing the long day that I had. I just needed to fall asleep quickly. The pillow smelled like Daryl and it was comforting. It smelled of cedar and musk and my mind, again, went to him.

When he had first asked, I didn't know if he had been offering for me to stay in here alone or with him. A part of me wished that he had wanted to stay. I felt dirty for thinking that, like he would have laughed off any notion of the possibility. There was something intriguing about him but I felt like he thought he was fine on his own. There's no way he could be thinking about me like this.

I had all but given up on anything like that. There wasn't much time to think about relationships or sex or anything like that with the threat of the dead around any corner.

Still, I was left wondering what it would be like to fall asleep next to Daryl. His strong arms wrapped around my curves, holding me close in this fucked up world, ready to grab his crossbow and defend us at the first sign of danger...

I started to fall asleep while imagining him holding me. For some reason, I felt embarrassed, worried he would somehow know what I was thinking. I could hear him pacing outside the tent, keeping watch as I tried to get some rest.

He had proved himself to be a great asset to this group and to surviving in this world. He was willing to put others before himself but stay true to who he was.

I decided that I wanted to know more about him, if he would allow me. I finally drifted off to sleep, the notes of Daryl's scent on his borrowed pillow comforting me. Fuck, I'm in for it with this man...

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parkersdashboard · 2 years

Text

Lethal Justice Chapter 11

warnings: Daredevil season 2 spoilers, angst, angry Frank

“Colonel Ray Schoonover, United States Marine Corps.”

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.” My heart pounded, either caused by the three cups of coffee I had drank a few hours prior or the fact that I felt like I was hearing something I shouldn’t. I had maneuvered myself into the very front pew of the public gallery, and now I definitely couldn’t miss a single moment of this trial.

“Colonel, how long have you known the defendant?”

“I'd say, the better part of a decade. Most of his career in the Marine Corps”

“So you're familiar with his service in the Middle East? Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran?”

“Yes, very familiar.” Colonel Ray Schoonover seemed like an honest man, but I wasn’t about to make assumptions on just a few words.

“I wonder if you could tell us how Lieutenant Frank Castle won the Navy Cross?” I felt my heart in my throat, suddenly in on the big secret that Foggy was working on right in front of my eyes. This seemed like a media trick. Foggy is putting both sides of the story out, just like any good lawyer does, and ensuring that the public knows that Frank isn’t just some trigger-happy killer.

“Lieutenant Frank Castle was part of a small team. He was conducting a close target reconnaissance in the vicinity of the Hindu Kush. The mission became compromised, taking enemy contact on three sides. Lieutenant Castle wanted to abort. Said the mission was a bust, pulling the plug would save lives. Officer in charge said ‘no’”.

“And why was that?”

“Maybe he wanted more medals on his chest. Doesn't matter. Either way, Frank was right. They were cut off, boxed into a canyon… Within the first hour, the officer in charge of that mission got his arm blown off. So Lieutenant Castle assumed command. His only goal was to get his men out alive. The enemy had set up an ambush at the only LZ that would accommodate one of our birds.”

“Sorry, Colonel?”

“LZ is a landing zone that can accommodate a helicopter. So the enemy, they block this landing zone, knowing it was the only shot the team had to get out alive..All they had to do was wait.They knew that Frank's team had to come to them.”

“Fish in a barrel.”

“So to speak. Only fish don't know they're gonna die. These men did.Frank went to the LZ all by himself to draw the bastards away.” I had learned more about Frank during this trial than I ever had as his neighbor. Really says something about trust, doesn’t it?

“Why didn't he order one of his men to do it? He certainly could have…”

“Not his style. So the men hear the fire fight break out. All hell breaks loose. Frank against God knows how many,and then there was silence.The team thinks, ‘That's it, Frank's dead, and we're next’.Next sound they hear is the helos, the helicopters. They get to the landing zone, you know what they see? Frank Castle, standing there, grinning. Thirty-two muj surrounding him, all dead. Son of a gun cleared that entire LZ all by himself.”

Oh, so he’s been crazy like this even before he was the Punisher?

“How?”

“By being Frank Castle.”

“And his men survived?”

“All of 'em,Including the idiot officer that got 'em trapped in the first place.”

“If you had to sum up Frank Castle, how would you do it?” If I had a voice, I would describe him as crazy but very handsome. If only he didn’t have a criminal record, maybe we could have been something.

“I would say Frank Castle is a man who would gladly give his life to keep others safe.”

“And the crimes he's accused of today? Could the man you knew have committed them?”

“Absolutely not. Lieutenant Frank Castle that I know is a hero. A man who deserves our respect and our gratitude. Not the same man.”

I wish I could convince myself it “the same man”, but I had witnessed Frank’s violent tendencies and knew it was still him. Maybe he was different during his time as a Marine, but now he was the Punisher, no matter how just his killing sprees were.

“I'd like to personally thank you for your service to this country, Colonel. My father served in Vietnam,” Reyes announced as if it was a justification for what she might say during her cross-examination.

“Do you know what he told me about medals?”

“No, ma'am” Somehow, Schnoover remained respectful. I know I wouldn’t if I were on the stand.

“He said the only people who truly know what happened are the ones that were there. You told a nice story, Colonel but how can we know that it happened the way you described?”

“Well, perhaps I wasn't clear...I was there, ma'am. That officer that didn't listen to Frank, got his men trapped you're looking at him. And believe me when I tell you, I thank God every day that I only lost my arm. That man saved my life, the lives of his entire team. If it was up to me, he'd have a Medal of Honor hanging around his neck.”

Holy shit. You tell her, Ray Schnoover.

“...The bullet penetrated Mr Castle's skull in the lower right quadrant, or more specifically, the sphenofrontal suture, which is the cranial suture between the sphenoid bone and the frontal bones, both here and here.” I had been zoning in and out for some of the trial, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away anymore. I sat in my seat, legs crossed as I took down notes, equally intrigued and shocked by the information I was hearing.

“I believe what my expert witness is trying to convey is that my client, Frank Castle, was shot point blank, execution style, in the head. Could you please describe the damage Mr. Castle sustained from the bullet?”

“It fragmented on impact, causing damage in both the right frontal lobe and temporal lobe of his brain.”

“What are the effects of such an injury?” Seeing Foggy in the courtroom was different then how I had experienced him in the past. It was a welcome change.

“Mr. Castle is suffering from what we call sympathetic storming. It's a heightened and ongoing state of fight or flight, in which the sympathetic nervous system is hyperactive. As if he is reliving the incident of trauma over and over again. It can plunge a seemingly peaceful individual into mental and emotional chaos.”

“Could you define it for the jury, please?”

“Extreme emotional disturbance. It's twofold.First, the defendant is so emotionally disturbed that he loses control. And second, the defendant has a reasonable explanation for said disturbance, from his point of view.”

“Are you aware that Frank Castle's wife, son, and daughter were all murdered right in front of him when he sustained the brain injury in question? An injury which, you say, keeps him in a perpetual state of mental and emotional chaos?” My heart sunk. I had never actually heard about Frank’s family. I just filled in the blanks that they were gone. I didn’t know it was that bad. I felt sick.

“I am, yes.”

A few days later, I was back in the court room, this time much more nervous and much more eager to get the day over.

Frank’s testimony was scheduled for today.

I bounced my leg, as I quickly refreshed myself on my notes and desperately tried to conceal my fear.

“Uh, Your Honor, the Defense would like to call Frank Castle to the stand.” I held my breath as the bailiff brought Frank in, mostly out of anxiety, but also because he was wearing a suit.

Oh my god. He’s wearing a suit.

The bailiff whispered something to him, and the butterflies in my stomach dissipated and replaced themselves with something much worse.

Something wasn’t right.

“Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Yeah.”

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Frank Castle.”

“Mr. Castle, you've been charged with multiple capital crimes.Been called a killer incapable of empathy or remorse.” Not true. Frank is one of the most empathetic people I know. But no one realizes that.

“Hmm, yeah. So I hear.”

“Frank... May I call you Frank?” Frank looked him up and down, almost dumbfounded by the question.

“Yeah.”

“Frank, we've heard a lot about neuro-chemistry and psychology, and all things unfolding, scientifically and otherwise, inside your brain. But I just have one question I want to ask: What happened that day? The day your family was so tragically killed. It's okay, Frank. I understand, it's difficult. Do you understand?”

“'Cause I don't think you understand shit.”

“I'd like permission to treat the witness as hostile, Your Honor?” Oh dear.

“Granted.”

“All right, Frank. You don't want to tell us? I'll tell you. I'm gonna tell you exactly what kind of man you are. You're the kind of man this city needs. Because, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we all know this city needs help. Needs it now. Not tomorrow, not next week, not when the day comes, when the corruption that Wilson Fisk left in his wake is flushed out for good, and the police force is finally back on its feet. We need it now. 'Cause this city's been sick. And the cops, they can't fix it alone, they need - We all need men and women who are willing to take the fight themselves. The kind of people who risk their lives so that we can walk safe at night in our own neighborhoods. The ones our esteemed District Attorney here is trying so hard to destroy. New York needs these people. We need heroes.” The room erupted with applause.

“Order.”

“The help they offer and the hope that they provide. Frank Castle wanted to help, but he took it too far. He shot people, he killed people. It's against the law. And he broke that law many, many times. Now, I don't like him any more than you do, but here's the thing, he's not a common criminal. He's not malicious in intent. Frank Castle is actually a good man. He just - He doesn't know the difference between right and wrong anymore. And he doesn't need punishment for that. He needs help. Our help. That's the kind of man Frank Castle is. And now, you have to decide what kind of jury you want to be. No further questions, Your Honor.”

“Your, uh Your Honor? Can I say something?” Frank spoke up. We made eye contact for what felt like forever. I had stopped taking notes a long time ago, my hands preoccupied by twisting the beads on my jewelry around and around.

“You may.”

“You know those, uh. Those people? The ones I put down, the people I killed? I want you to know that I'd do it all again. This is a circus, all right? It's a charade, it's an act. It's bullshit about how crazy I am.” His anger filled the courtroom, and it did nothing to help my anxiety.

“Language.”

“I ain't crazy! I'm not crazy. Okay? I know what I did.I know who I am. And I do not need your help. I'm smack-dab in the middle of my right goddamn mind, and any scumbag, any any lowlife, any maggot piece of shit that I put down, I did it because I liked it!” “Order!”

“Hell, I loved it! I'm sittin' here, I'm I'm just itching. I'm itching to do it again. And you think What, you think you're gonna send me to a nuthouse? Some doctor, they're gonna get me to stop from doing what I want to do? Well, that ain't happening! Not on my watch! You people, you call me the Punisher, ain't that right? The big bad Punisher.” I sucked in a breath. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t him.

“Bailiff.”

“Well, here I am!” Frank shouted.

”Remove the witness.”

“You want it, you got it! I am the Punisher! I'm right here! You want it, I'll give it to you. And anybody who came here today to hear me whine, to hear me beg? Well, you can kiss my ass! Do you hear me? I'm guilty. Come on, please, Judge! I'm guilty, you hear me? I'm guilty! I'm guilty! I'll kill every one of 'em! I'll kill every single one!” The bailiff dragged him out as he screamed.

Tears pricked my eyes. He was sentenced promptly, as he confessed to his crimes, and court was dismissed. I made my way to the nearest bathroom, and was pleasantly surprised to see it was empty. I shut myself away into one of the stalls. My throat hurt from holding in my sobs, which quickly spilled from my eyes now that I was behind closed doors. My heart pounded, and I could hardly even catch my breath.

I loved Frank like oxygen. I had long ago come to terms that it wouldn’t work, but now, with the reality suddenly in front of me, I crumbled. Nothing could distract me from the waves of emotions coursing through my body.

I heard the door of the bathroom swing open, and heels click on the white tiles. I covered my mouth to mask my humiliating sobs and quickly attempted to compose myself. I pulled my sleeve over the palm of my hand and dabbed my tears away, all while listening for a stall door to close. Once I heard the click of the latch, I made my way out and made a desperate attempt to fix my makeup and left, keeping my head down.

This short chapter of my life had come to a close.

#fanfiction #frank castle x oc #frank castle #fanfic #frank castle angst #series #marvel #marvel punisher

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marvelmusing · 2 years

Text

Stand-off

Part of the Guilty of Love AU

Pairing: Vigilante!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: As New York searches for the Punisher yet again, things come to a head regarding both your work with Dinah and your loyalty to Billy.

Word Count: 1.7K

My Masterlist

Detective Mahoney scribbles something down in his notebook, and you take the opportunity to look around the room. You know there’s a large blood stain on the wall directly behind you. The majority of the furniture has either been smashed or flipped upside down. There’s more blood on the opposite wall, and on the floor near Mahoney’s feet.

He looks back up at you, a brow raised as he puts his pen down.

“You wanna tell me why you and Agent Madani were pointing guns at each other instead of Castle and Russo?” He asks. You hold his gaze before shrugging lightly.

“Difference in opinion.”

Six Hours Earlier.

Your leg bounces nervously as your eyes scan the crowd of the lobby.

“Do you have to look so tense?” Dinah remarks. You glance at her briefly before turning your attention back to the crowd.

“I’m not tense.” You are tense. Seeing Billy’s face on the news was a shock. Now everyone knows that Billy and Frank are alive. Meaning that your investigation has been reopened.

You’re also not sleeping well. Billy hasn’t been home since that footage went public. He’d called you from a payphone, telling you that he’d be staying with Frank and David to keep you safe. You understand why. But you hate him being gone. Your sleep is easily disrupted, it takes hours of lying there, wondering about Billy, before exhaustion finally takes you. Even then, you’re awake by five in the morning.

Dinah wanted to meet with an informant here at the Royal Hospitality hotel, hoping they could provide some insight on the men who ambushed her operation, and killed her partner, Sam. Though she’s certain that her informant will tell her that these dead mercenaries all point towards Billy. You haven’t tried to breach the subject with her, knowing that Sam’s death still weighs heavily on her. But her vendetta against Billy concerns you.

Dinah’s informant is currently providing security for Senator Ori, the man who’s life has been threatened by Lewis Wilson - the bomber that had gone after Curtis.

There’s too many coincidences going on - too many overlapping lives and stories and relationships. It makes your head hurt. Which is the main reason why you’re so tense.

Because if Lewis turns up to kill the Senator, you know that Frank and Billy won’t just stand by and let that happen.

You sigh, checking your watch as Dinah’s informant doesn’t show.

A high pitched alarm blares through the lobby, the fire alarm most likely. You look around as people begin to file out through the front doors. A few of the security guards place a hand on their earpiece, before moving further into the building. Dinah looks around before turning back to you.

“Follow me.”

“Dinah, this is a bad-“ Your voice trails off when you realise she’s already out of earshot. You sigh, before following her.

She heads down a hallway, and opens up a doorway. There’s a sharp breeze as you stare up at the countless flights of stairs that seem to spiral forever.

“There’s two stairways. I’ll take the other one?” You suggest, and she nods. “Be careful.” You add, as she pulls out her gun and makes her way up the stairs.

“You too.” She calls out. You head down the hallway towards the door leading to the other set of stairs.

You pass very few people on your way up. The occasional member of staff rushing down at the sound of the alarm.

Once you’ve cleared your stairwell, finding nothing suspicious, you head along a corridor to enter the same stairwell as Dinah - hoping that she won’t shoot you if you appear in front of her. You make your way down one flight of stairs, and then you see her.

Dinah fires her gun down the stairwell, and you rush to the edge to see who she’s shooting at. It’s Billy and Frank. Your heart nearly stops. Billy’s on the floor, as if he’s been shoved. So is Frank, but he’s clutching at his head, his hand soaked in blood. Frank must have pushed Billy out of the path of the bullet. Dinah adjusts her aim, levelling her gun at Billy. You pull your own gun out immediately.

“Drop it.” You order Dinah, aiming your gun at her. She looks over at you, surprise filling her features. You risk another glance down at Billy and his eyes meet yours. Dinah notices the main focus of your attention.

“Put the gun down.” She tells you. You shake your head. “That’s an order.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“Castle is my witness. I’ll charge you with obstruction.”

“Go ahead.” She can see the resolve in your eyes, so she changes her tactic.

“We all want the same people: Cereberus, Rawlins, all of it.”

“Maybe,” you concede with a small shrug. “But we’re going to do it in very different ways.”

“Russo killed my partner.” She insists.

“Billy didn’t kill Sam.” She looks down at Billy’s eyes fixed on you. You had only pulled your gun out when she had it aimed at Billy. A smirk tugs at her lips, as the pieces slot into place. There’s hurt in her eyes, hiding behind the anger, but you won’t back down.

“Of course you’d believe him.” You tilt your head aside before you nod and say casually,

“Yeah. I would.” Then your voice hardens, “And I do, so drop it.”

She narrows her eyes at you, attempting to step towards the stairs leading to Billy. You immediately fire a shot to block her exit, the sound of it echoing down the stairwell. The bullet embeds itself into the wall beside her. She flinches backwards.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Dinah. But if you come for him, I will.”

You try to keep your eyes on her, but your gaze flickers down a few floors to where Billy’s standing.

“I need Castle, he’s my only witness for this case.”

“Then you should think twice before taking a headshot.” You snap.

Dinah’s bullet grazed the side of Frank’s head, but he seems to be okay. The thought that the bullet was actually meant for Billy makes you sick.

“Go now.” You tell him. Billy’s eyes are wide, and he shakes his head slightly. He takes one step up as if to come up to you. You force yourself to sound strong as you order, “Frank, get him out of here.”

Frank tugs at Billy’s shoulder and your hear him say quietly,

“Come on, Bill.”

You can still hear their footsteps descending the stairs when the police burst onto the landing, demanding for you and Dinah to drop your weapons. You click the safety off, letting your gun fall.

Several agents grab you, hauling you against the wall. Dinah soon ends up beside you, protesting against their actions. Your hands are tugged behind you, and you feel the handcuffs clasp around your wrists. You turn your head to meet Dinah’s eyes.

“You’re gonna wish you shot me.” She sneers. You laugh shortly,

“Sounds like you’re finally talking some sense, Madani.”

»»---------------------►

After your interview with Mahoney, no one seemed interested in your stand-off with Dinah. After all, the Punisher was back - your department had more important things to deal with.

You’ve been swarmed with reports and supposed sightings of Billy. Just looking at them increases your stress levels. Your desk is covered in papers and countless case files in an attempt to look like you’re actively searching for Billy. But you're afraid to actually instigate any official orders. You don't know what Billy's planning. What if you accidentally find him?

You empty a large box full of files with a sigh, your brow furrowed as you try to come up with some means to look productive for your superiors. Then a familiar voice remarks,

“Lookin for somethin?” Your heart plummets, and you stop breathing. Billy steps into your office with a small smile on his face. You're dreaming, you must be. This must be some sort of nightmare.

“What are you doing here?” You say, your voice quiet and panicked.

“Need you to arrest me.”

“What? No!” He looks unreasonably calm, but you know Billy. There's worry in his eyes. Whatever plan he's following has too many invariables - which Billy doesn't like.

“Sweetheart, if you don't someone is about to rush in here and do it - and I’d rather it be you.” You stare at him for a moment.

He's right, of course he's right. Your entire department will have seen him walk into your office. They probably think you’re being murdered. You tug open your drawers and pull out a pair of handcuffs before making your way over to him.

He holds his wrists out to you, and you look up at his eyes as you secure the first circle of metal around his wrist. A small smirk tugs at his lips,

“You know, when I imagined this, you were the one wearin those.” You breathe out a sharp laugh, shaking your head at him. Of course he would try and make you laugh - even now.

“Billy, what's going on?” He can see how confused and frightened you are.

“You know I woulda told you everythin. But this plan very last minute. We’re goin on record about Kandahar. We’ll bring Rawlins down officially, and in return get our names cleared.”

“And you came here? Not Homeland?”

“You’re the only one I trust with the truth. You’ll do right by me and Frank.” You swallow hard, before saying in a near whisper.

“Billy, I don’t want to see you locked away.”

“It won’t come to that.” He insists, but you can see he’s nervous. There’s no guarantee.

Billy had trusted someone to clear his name before - and regretted it. You’ll do everything in your power to make sure that doesn't happen again.

You ensure that the handcuffs are secured, though not too tightly. Billy smiles softly at you, curling his fingers around yours. You sigh,

“Well, William Russo, you’re under arrest on suspicion of vigilantism. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say can be used in a court of law.” You sigh again before adding, “Although, hopefully it won't come to that.”

“Hopefully not.” He says softly. Then the corner of his mouth tugs into a smirk. “I don't know any lawyers.”

»»---------------------►

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @restingbitchsblog @tiredbeebo @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @hummelmi @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @earthfairytale @profoundme444

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

Don't Go On That Date (Alternate POV)

Fandom: Marvel, Frank Castle, The Punisher

Word Count: 1345

TW: 2nd Base, Groping, Sensual Moments

Note: Thank you to @skvatnavle for requesting the Alternate POV!

Alternate POV of this drabble: Don't Go On That Date

Frank had been leaning against the same spot on the wall in the bedroom from the moment you got out of the shower. Arms folded across his chest, his eyes never left you as you meticulously applied your makeup or when you styled your hair in the way you knew drove him wild. And normally, seeing you all dolled up like this would be driving him mad. However, the effect was ruined by the fact he knew none of it was for him. Each swipe of makeup or stroke of the brush through your hair was perfectly planned to entice the target most effectively. And Frank hated every bit of it.

He knew you could protect yourself, he had made sure of that. After rescuing you from a group of thugs in a back alley late one night years ago, you had refused to leave his side. And when it became apparent he wasn’t going to be able to shake you that easily, Frank did everything in his power to make sure you would be safe even when he couldn’t be around. And now, you regularly bested him when you sparred and your aim with a gun or a knife was nigh on perfect every time. But still, he couldn’t help but worry.

He had told himself he would be able to stay calm, to avoid any kind of conflict or objection, but when he saw the dress that you had selected for tonight, it was the last straw. As you slid it on, the fabric clinging to every curve just right, he couldn’t help but flashback to the last time he had seen you in it. When you walked into the restaurant for your first official date. And he also couldn’t help remembering later that night, as he slipped it off you and left it balled up in a heap on his floor. But seeing you in it now, for someone else, made his blood boil.

“Don’t go on that date.” Frank’s voice was quiet and deep as he glared down at the floor.

You turned away from the mirror as you looked at him in confusion. “Why?”

“You know why.” The words were barely more than a grunt but he saw the small upturn at the corner of your lips.

You padded barefoot across the carpet towards him, a glint in your eye. “I want you to say it.”

“It’s not safe.”

You sigh as you stand in front of him. “Frank, we’ve talked about this. It’s just dinner. You’ll be right outside in the car and if anything happens, you can come to my rescue in seconds.”

“And what if that’s not fast enough? What if something happens before I can get to you?” He silently cursed himself for letting the small note of desperation sneak into his voice. But he couldn’t help it. All he kept picturing was his family lying dead around him. And he couldn’t let that happen to you too. Not now. Not when he felt…

“That’s not going to happen.” You slid your petite arms around his waist. It always amazed him the power and fight contained within your small body. In your training, you were able to best men twice your size. Yet, right now as you stood barefoot before him, your head rests softly on his chest, and he is reminded how tiny you really are. But you continue. “You’re not going to let anyone hurt me. I know that. And besides, you taught me how to shoot and you taught me how to fight. I’ve got this, babe. If I can trick him into revealing even a fraction of what he knows, we’ll have enough evidence to shut down their whole organization by tomorrow. Legally. Isn’t that worth a little risk?”

“Not if that risk is you.” He brushed a stray piece of hair off your face, trying to memorize every inch of it. After everything that he had done in his life, all the people he killed or hurt, he never imagined getting lucky enough to find love again. And he wasn’t about to have it taken away yet again. “I’ve lost every other person I’ve ever loved. I can’t lose you too.”

“And you won’t. Frank, I promise. I’ll be alright.” As always, it seems as if you knew exactly what he was thinking. You hugged him tighter, drawing closer to his body and Frank finally softened. Collapsing down around you, he tried shielding as much of you as he could from the outside world. Wrapping you in his arms as if he could protect you from the darkness and evil of his life, while knowing the closer he got to you, the closer he brought the danger as well. It was a catch-22 he was still trying to come to terms with even after all these years together.

Finally, he reluctantly released you. You smiled up at him reassuringly as you ran a hand across his cheek. Then you turned around and said, “We’re running late. Can you help zip me up the rest of the way? I can’t reach.” You gestured futilely to the zipper just out of your grasp.

Frank begrudgingly grabs the zipper to do as you asked, but then another thought crossed his mind. In one quick motion, he completely unzipped the dress. And before you could protest, he placed a kiss at the base of your neck. Then another a few inches lower, and another, and another. He could feel you relax slightly, so he slid his hands into the opening on the back of the dress and ran his hands across your skin until they were cupping your bare breasts. He grinned into your hair as a low moan reverberated from your throat and your head fell back against his shoulder. As much as Frank was enjoying himself, he knew if he could just keep you distracted a little while longer, you would miss your date. So, as he continued placing kisses on your back, he gave your left breast a final squeeze before moving his hand lower and-

“Stop!” You twisted out of his embrace and stumbled forward, putting distance between the two of you. Frank silently cursed to himself as you glared at him. He had really thought that would have worked. But you just barked at him, “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. I’m not missing this date. Now zip me up, we have to go.”

Frank grumbled his concerns once more as he slowly zipped up your dress. He let his fingers linger on your neck as the zipper reached the top, but you turned and, standing on your toes, wrapped your arms around his neck. “Listen, it’ll all be over soon. Then I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

He let out a low sigh as he raised an eyebrow. “Just tonight, huh?” He would never be able to give you his blessing to go on this date, but this was the best he could do to show you his support. And he could see you understood that.

You placed a light kiss on his lips and whispered, “Tonight, and every night, for the rest of our lives.”

As Frank deepened the kiss, his mind jumped to the ring box buried at the bottom of his sock drawer. Part of him wants to pull it out now, just to prove to you how much your statement hits home. But he knows he wants to do this right, and proposing just before sending you off on a date with another man was not the right way. So, the ring could wait.

He finally broke off the kiss, but right before you pulled away from him, Frank growled, “Sounds good to me. But for tonight, when we get home, that dress is going in the same place it did last time you wore it.”

You grinned and nipped at his lip. “How about this…. when everything goes right tonight, I’ll let you rip it off me.”

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @bewitchedignition, @skvatnavle, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @myguiltypleasures21, @lucyysthings

#fic #pov rewrite #frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #marvel's the punisher #marvel #marvel x reader #jon bernthal

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itsbuckytm · 3 years

Text

Home. Chishiya x Reader

Summary : Chishiya is having a fascination over the reader he thought he could get away from. Only to finding out she was the light to his darkness.

Warning : None (also english isn’t my first language, however I tried my best with grammar error and plot wise)

Enjoy 💗💗

Living in the Borderland has yet to become a nightmare you wished to have never happened. The slight feeling of blood dripping on your cheek, right after pulling the trigger at the right time. Enough for the body in front of you to fall face down, now to be only described as a dead corpse.

Every minutes, turned into an hour before completely turning into emptiness. An emptiness you felt corrupted by sadness, anger and solitude. Such emotions you had never once thought to experience in your life. And yet here you were, gun gripped tightly to your fingers, trembling as your enemies fresh blood dripped lifelessly on your clothes. Leaving you not only in complete shock and pain, but in a such petty way enough for someone to catch your attention.

There he was, standing just a few doors away from yours. Examining every movement you did. Something about you being « new » felt rather to interested for him. For him you were just another toy to play with.

Chishiya was his name, you learned it through Arisu (but never had the chance to get a clear look of his apparence) and who by being protective of you had rather decided to take you with him in order to keep you safe. Sadly, being just as stubborn you were, it didn’t last you enough for you to be lost once you decided to wonder around the Borderland, once escorted.

It didn’t took long enough before you were lost. Of course you did managed to remember about a few places such as the pool and the Hatter’s office but other than that the rest came more vague almost as if every time you passed a new room you were certain something was about to happened.

Thus, taking you by surprise the moment you heard a voice. A voice to cold yet not so friendly to be even thinking of offering whoever’s owner of this room or voice an apology to their privacy and yet out of habit, you did. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t-“

“Bare me your excuses. I am surprised you even got the guts to enter into The Hatter’s bedroom. Let alone Niragi’s, better watch your step next time.”

The voice faded just as the sound of their footsteps did along. However, the moment you were about the discover the stranger, nothing but a dim light flickering and silence corrupted the room before in your turn left the room out of sight.

Having a new face in the Bordeland has become quickly the top’s news. Even the Hatter himself being as frantic as he was, managed to invite Arisu, Usagi and you at one of the first meetings for the new comers.

Feeling rather uncomfortable at Niragi’s constant confrontation and small remarks, you noticed a pair of eyes watching you. It was him. Chishiya and just as he spoke, you were back into reality. The voice back at the Hatter’s place it was his all along. The pair of brown eyes watching you from a distance, all his.

Surprisingly, it didn’t took the both of you however, to start a conversation. His soft yet cold voice of his, intrigued you too much for you to become just as interested as he was with you. He just didn’t liked showing too much emotions.

The militants who worked with him noticed a slight change into his behavior. They noticed the sudden tone on the man’s voice whenever you shared the same room and as subtle as he tried to be. Heck even Chishiya noticed something in him changed.

Either you were to blinded, or just another prey of his.

Niragi of course, being the not so subtle out of everyone, grew annoyed that his very own team mate couldn’t face the fact that maybe. Chishiya’s new distraction became a little more than that.

“You know, if you stand there like a creep. I’m not surprised she would kill you like that bastard who tried to take her beauty away.” He murmured almost sounding like a threat, making a Chishiya rather annoyed.

Days has passed and you were getting familiar with the game’s tactics. How the world was build and how fascinated you become once Chishiya told you more about it.

The both of you grew closer, not wanting to express anymore feelings to make it talked about, you both knew it was for the best. And yet something deep inside felt as if you belong in each other’s arms but such coldness separated this act.

That is when one night, you and Chishiya were assigned for a game. A game you were both against another team, a game of where the heart was trust.

Things were going as told, however you were one tonight’s target. You felt the blade quickly brushing ahead of you just as you could, get away from but it was only a lost cost. Chishiya yelled out your name but it was to late. Your vision felt blurry just enough before for you felt into his arms.

Right before your eyes you knew it was your last days, and yet your mind by faith decided otherwise. You were found in a bed, rather comfortable, your eyes meeting the harsh light from the lamps enough for the people who sat next to you notice your awakening.

The first you noticed was Arisu with a poorly made bouquet of flowers held it to you. You smiled and thanked him. “Don’t forget it was me who chosen the flowers”. Niragi said, mocking Arisu in which you roll your eyes thanking them once again before they reunited in another argument on whom was going to put the flowers in the bowl.

“I will.” A voice too familiar interrupted the little fiasco. Your eyes meeting him once again, thinking that last night was going to be your last. “Chishiya...” You spoken softly received, by a smile you never once thought from such a man as his could.

Niragi taking Arisu knowing a little too much for your liking, left for you both’s privacy and quickly corrupted by a moment of silence before Chishiya walked towards you and said. “Feeling alright?”

To be frank you couldn’t tell. Something inside you was glad to be alive but on the other, felt such emptiness that you couldn’t even comprehend it’s own cause. “I had my better days.”

You both chuckled and as he sat down next to your bed, he gently took your hand onto his, delicately pressing his soft lips on it. Frowning at his quite unusual actions, you questioned him on his behavior.

“What’s wrong?” You decided to ask, feeling such worries in his eyes but also satisfaction to the fact that you were all alive and well.

He chuckles softly as he was sinking into deep madness, thinking how he could live such weird emotions in such quick paste. “Do you ever believed in love?” He asked you and by the tone of his voice, thought to yourself that he also was just thinking how rubbish it sounded. But he insist by repeating : “Have you?”

You looked at him for a few moments, feeling the slight heat coming trough your cheeks, trying to look away before he even catches your blush. Which he on his end showed a soft smile and continued. “It’s crazy how ever since you showed up, I’ve tried to ignore you. I couldn’t technically say why you made such an effect on me and yet for some reasons I do.”

Listening to every words, you held his hand a little tighter as a source of comfort. “You know... I’ve been feeling strange emotions as well, hell even those I never knew I could experience in a life time. I guess by meeting you I could finally say you were like home..”

Home? He wondered through his mind, admiring you as if he knew that maybe loving you weren’t his lost cost into living a little longer into the Borderland and to once you both left... live a life together. For once.

“I love you, Chishiya. As much as I know you want it to push it away, the distraction I’ve caused-“

His lips brushed yours in an instant. Not letting you finish your phrase, you knew what he felt to. Maybe you both needed each other and no matter the cause, the sacrifice you’ll have each other’s side.

“See told you, now give me five bucks.” Niragi’s was heard silently watching the scene with an Arisu whom seemed rather uncomfortable and a Aguni, annoyed by his loss. Thus, making the Chishiya and you turning heads to the scene, with such glare all three new it was time to leave.

#alice in borderland imagines #chishiya imagine #imagines #chishiya x reader #niragi imagines #niragi x reader #arisu x chishiya #arisu x reader #alice in borderland x reader #the last boss #arisu imagines #jealous niragi #kuina alice in borderland #alice in borderland boss #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #niragi alice in borderland

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