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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

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Blood Ties Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Graphic depictions of illness; allusions to major medical procedure; accidental violence (m on f); allusions to child abuse

A/N: Finally. I make no excuses and a lot of apologies. Daryl is going through it right now but it's not just my normal whump. Reader gets to find herself again. I say that as vaguely as possible but you'll see at the end and in coming chapters.

A day and a half. A full fucking thirty six hours. The group still hadn’t returned. While it was logical to be concerned for their safety, you just couldn’t seem to look any further than the man on the bed no more than a foot in front of you. His fever raged and his breathing deteriorated, shallow rattles and painful fits of coughing. Still, those were less distressing than the moments he would wake, not remembering where or when he was.

During one such episode, you had been a peer from school. An innocent girl who had followed him home one day to catch crawdads in the creek behind his house. His one friend that he had to hide in the crawlspace until he could get his father to beat on him instead of looking for you. He didn’t have any friends. You were special, he said. The bruises were worth it.

Of all the ways to get Daryl to talk about what had happened to him, this wasn’t what you had expected.

To make matters worse, he had become violent, waking in a rage that no one could understand. He was swinging punches and trying to leave the bed, Lori holding you away from him while Hershel of all people tried to subdue him alone. It was the grating of his own voice against his throat that had brought on the coughing, the force of which had eventually tired him out.

You had appreciated the concern but had asked Lori not to come between you and Daryl again. Though she had retreated in a huff, Carol later assured you that she was only concerned for the safety of you and the baby. She wasn’t angry and she wasn’t judging Daryl for something over which he had no control.

Things were quiet at the moment. You hummed and carded your fingers through the archer’s hair. He had been sleeping without interruption for a little over an hour, but his breaths were seeming even more labored.

You were beyond exhausted. Two or three hours of sleep, barely eating between bouts of nausea, you were nearly to the point of being confined to that sickbed right alongside Daryl.

“How’re the patients?”

You didn’t lift your head, only your eyes. “Baby and I are fine. Daryl sounds worse than when you were here earlier.”

“Let’s take a look at you two and then I’ll examine Daryl.”

There was no point in arguing. You didn’t have the energy. Sitting up straight in the chair, your back protested from the time spent bowed over the edge of the mattress, but you continued the journey to relax against the backrest. Your hand never released Daryl’s.

Hershel motioned toward your sweater in a silent request for permission and received a mumbled knock yourself out in reply. Baby Dixon was still for the moment after hours of kicking and rolling and seemingly trying to fit a foot between your ribs. The veterinarian smiled gently upon removing the stethoscope and rolling down your sweater. You were grateful for the small gesture, likely would have left it up if he hadn’t taken the initiative.

“Heartbeat’s strong. Seems to be doing just fine according to my limited knowledge. You really should get some rest yourself. Eat something, drink more.” His stethoscope was already nearing Daryl’s chest when you noticed it; the twitch of a hand before fingers curled into a fist.

“Daryl, no!” You weren’t meaning to hurt the old man, inwardly wincing when you heard the thud of his body hit the floor. You were just quick enough to shove him out of the way, Daryl’s fist barely grazing your cheek instead. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s Y/N. You’re sick.” You kept your voice soft, right next to his ear, holding him firmly in a way he couldn’t escape in his weakened state.

“Hershel! Y/N!” Carol and Lori burst into the room, Beth just behind them. You heard the girl begin to cry and tend to her father but the other two were quiet.

“Where—dunno—can’t think—”

“I know, Daryl. It’s the fever.” He was coughing into your shoulder, his skin hot and dry where it touched yours. “You’re safe. I’m here. Thumper’s here.” The archer made a sound in his throat and by some miracle, you knew what it meant. Otherwise keeping your hold on him, you fumbled for his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of your belly. “Feel that? You woke them up too.” Your lip was wobbling, your voice threatening to do the same. “They just want their daddy to rest now so they can too. How ‘bout it, hmm?”

You pulled back slowly, steeling yourself for whatever it was you would see in his eyes. You almost whimpered when there was nothing short of exhausted recognition.

“D’I hurt—”

Your cheek burned and felt wet, but you shook your head. No, you wouldn’t tell him while he was like that. “I tripped. Face-planted. You definitely would have laughed.” He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious, but thank heavens for Thumper and a well placed punt straight to Daryl’s palm. His reaction was sluggish, head bowing to watch his hand rub circles over that spot.

“Hey, kid. Go…easy on…your mama.”

“How about you go easy on their mama too and drink some water for me?” With your hand behind his head, you slowly guided him to his mountain of pillows. “Just a bit, okay?” He gave no answer. His palm continued to caress your bump. You wondered if he would still be so affectionate once he realized you weren’t alone in the room.

With one hand raising his head slightly, the other tipped the cup to lips. He didn’t drink as much as you’d hoped but it was something. His eyes were closed but his fingers remained steady, curling and straightening over where you could feel the ripples of movement. It was as if they could sense one another. Daryl was calm, only the cough moving him at all. The baby’s movements were gentle waves below his hand.

You didn’t dare move, allowing him the comfort he likely didn’t even know he was seeking. If you were being honest, you were relaxing a little as well. With a sigh, both tired and contented, you slouched but stayed next to him.

“Is he okay?” You asked, finally rolling your head toward the others. Beth and Carol were getting Hershel to his feet, Lori pacing behind them with an expression you just didn’t like.

“I’m perfectly fine.” The man answered for himself, patting Beth’s hand so that she would release him.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, risking placing your hand over Daryl’s. When his fingers went still, you gently guided his palm back and forth over your belly.

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. I should have been more—”

“He’s going to seriously hurt one of us.” Lori interjected, continuing her pacing. You shot her a warning look, eyes narrowing when she shook her head. “I understand this is out of his control, but this is Daryl and out of all of us, he’s hardwired for violence.”

“Lori, you should go.” You spoke quietly, not willing to disrupt any rest the archer might be getting. You could only pray that he hadn’t heard her careless comment.

“We should just take shifts to come check in on him. You could rest and eat, we’d probably hear him cou—”

“Are you seriously suggesting I leave him alone up here?” Where the anger was coming from, you had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concern for Daryl that was constantly eating at you. It hardly mattered, you’d made it clear that she was crossing a line. Your tone was dripping with venom. “Carol.” You beckoned, eyes remaining on Rick’s wife. “Please, take Lori downstairs before I say or do something I would definitely regret.”

“Come on, Lori.” You heard Carol say quietly, a heated glare continuing between you and the other woman as she was led from the room. Once the door closed, your anger dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. “Beth—Hershel, you know—”

“We know he’d never hurt any of us on purpose.” The girl said in that sweet southern tone of hers. “You neither.”

“Having two expectant mothers in one room with enough charged energy was just asking for an explosion of some sort. Now don’t you stress yourself over it any further.” As he neared, Hershel squeezed your shoulder. “Think you might be able to keep him from becoming agitated long enough for me to take a listen?” He lifted the stethoscope.

You nodded with a sniffle, wiping away a tear. “Yeah. If you can go around, I have an idea.” The old man rounded the bed while you crawled up beside Daryl, gently pulling him onto his side and against your chest. Once situated, you pulled his hand back onto your belly, and though he didn’t move it, you felt him relax a little further into you. “Daryl.” You whispered into his hair. “Hershel’s gonna listen to your lungs. The stethoscope is gonna be cold but your skin is hot from the fever. I’m right here. And it’s just Hershel.”

You carded your fingers through his hair while Beth leaned over you to clean the cut on your cheek, hands just as gentle as her father’s. There wasn’t so much as a flinch when the cold instrument pressed against the archer’s back. You paid attention to the his reactions—or lack thereof—but you also watched Hershel and the way his expression fell. It was then you knew he would tell you nothing good.

“His right lung is full of fluid. It’s hindering his ability to breathe normally. The cough is still productive?” You nodded slowly. “May I see?” Well, that was disgusting but Beth carefully pinched one edge of a cloth and carried it to Hershel. You didn’t care to have that ick on your fingers.

Your attention turned back to Daryl, his weight heavy on your side, chest rattling, cheeks flushed, and lips pale. When would the group be back? Were they okay? Should you plan to leave?

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look up from stroking the archer’s cheek until your name was said again. The expression you were met with was grim. You had your concerns about the pink frothy liquid that accompanied the mucus. Fuck. You should have told Hershel immediately. “What is it?”

“If I don’t do something about the fluid in his lung, it is possible he may—for lack of a better term—drown.”

“When they get back—” He cut you off with a shake of his head.

“This can’t wait that long. We don’t know if—we’re not sure when they’ll return. I need to see if I have anything that I can use. What we were able to grab from the farm was extremely limited and even that has been cut in half with being on the road.” Hershel was mentally running through inventory as he began to leave the room with his daughter in tow, turning but not meeting your eyes. “I’ll need him awake for this.”

Start waking him up now. That’s what he meant. You were horrified. You had no idea how to thoroughly explain to Daryl what was going to happen, because you didn’t know. Why did he need to be awake? ‘Oh, you’re going to drown slowly if we don’t do this now.’ How badly would it hurt?

“There’s a—time an’ place—to be pullin’ on—a man’s hair an’ this—ain’t it.”

You sputtered out apologies and let go immediately. “I didn’t even realize—I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even looking at you, half lidded eyes blinking slowly and staring toward the wall. Your tight grip returned but this time on his bicep, pulling him more snugly into your side but easing when he buried his face against your sweater to cough. Gross, but what could you do? “Daryl. Do you think you could try to—”

“Heard the—the old man. M’awake.”

The two of you laid in silence, not necessarily uncomfortable but with the looming fear of what was to come and if could even possibly help him. Your fingers ran a trail up and down his arm while his hand splayed out over your belly, eventually sliding around to your side to shift you toward him. Face to face, you could now clearly see the exhaustion, the way the illness was slowly tearing him down, and the resignation in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from your tongue unbidden, and though his expression didn’t change, he brought a fiercely trembling hand to your cheek, hot against your skin.

“Me too.” The admission shocked you to your core. Daryl always strived to be strong for everyone. Hell, it was what led him to his current position in the first place, trudging on while ill just to make sure you and the group—mostly you—were fed. “Didn’t fall.” His thumb barely brushed the bruised cut on your cheek. “M’so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to speak but quickly turned his face into the pillow to cough harshly, the force rocking his body hard enough to jar your own. You twisted to reach for a cloth, shushing him when his hold grew tighter, openly displaying his discontent at the thought of you moving away.

With gentle swipes, you wiped his face and then the pillow, folding the fabric before laying it above your heads for easy access.

“I don’t wanna do this without you. Thumper needs their daddy. And,” you swallowed, face crumbling and tears stinging your waterline, “I need their daddy too.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Why the hell was he comforting you when he was the one being ravaged by an illness that would have been easily remedied in the old world? You really were weak, dependent. Where was the headstrong woman that had shown no fear on her own during the first days of the turn? “Stop—stop lookin’ at me—like m’already dead.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away abruptly to cover a fit of barking coughs that left him groaning, face lined with pain while he gasped and heaved to catch his breath.

You had no chance to offer him any sort of comfort before there came a knock and Hershel entered, Carol at his heels. “We have what we need. Well, what can be used in place of what we need.” He held some sort of thin tubing, a syringe, and a plastic mixing bowl, while Carol carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, some gauze, tape, and a knife. Even with your wide eyes displaying a naked fear, Daryl never turned to look. “Is he awake?”

“Get it—get on with it.” He grumbled, weak but to the point.

Hershel merely shook his head with that fond smile he had developed toward your group since the farm. “Carol, could you sanitize the knife?” Seeing her pour a portion of the liquid over the blade made your stomach turn, or maybe it was your own illness rearing its ugly head to take advantage of your weakened state. Regardless, you looked away, finding Daryl’s eyes on your own. “First, I’ll need to find the right spot. You’ll have to be completely still for this, son.”

“Yeah, okay. Got—got it.” The archer wheezed. In your peripheral, you could see the veterinarian’s arm moving, pressing and counting the ribs in search of the correct site. Daryl was rigid, his eyes squinted but remaining open and focused on you with the occasional flitting down to where your swollen belly pressed against him. His hand fisted into the fabric of your sweater on your hip.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

“Just do—just do it for christ sake.”

The old man was still behind him for a moment, long enough to draw your gaze to his. He nodded, a silent request for you to do what you could to keep Daryl still and compliant. Drawing your eyes back to the dull blue that was watching you with such intensity that you felt crushed under the weight, well, that must have been enough for Hershel to continue.

Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat, the slightest spasm of pain indicating that the knife had pierced his skin. Hershel and Carol were moving behind Daryl, communicating through whispers and gestures while you felt Daryl’s arm begin to shake, your sweater pulling tight against your body.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good, Daryl.”

His eyes suddenly clamped shut, your sweater rising away from your hip when he twisted his fist. The seconds felt like minutes that felt like hours of watching him tremble with fever, weakness, and restraint. Finally, there came the blessed sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl.

“Catheter is in place as best I can tell. We’re getting fluid. Don’t hold your breath, son. Nice and slow.”

You could tell he was trying, each breath a wheeze laced with pain. Slowly, you moved your hand from his arm to his face, just brushing your fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “We need to start thinking of names, you know. Thumper is cute but the baby isn’t a rabbit even though they feel like one sometimes.” Daryl’s eyes opened, tears pricking at the pinched corners. You knew he couldn’t answer you and so did he, probably couldn’t even if he tried. “I try to picture what they may look like. I hope they look like you, big blue eyes and maybe even a permanent scowl so that when they smile, it’ll be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.” You thumbed away a tear that escaped down across the bridge of his nose toward the other eye.

When his throat spasmed, you thought maybe he was going to be sick but then he began to cough, loud and agonizing and dry. Your wide eyes found Hershel’s, the calm in the old man’s gaze fizzling out your terror.

“It’s okay. Just keep him still. The coughing forces out more fluid. It’s almost over.”

As painful as it was for Daryl, it was agonizing for you to watch him suffer with no way to help him. “It’s almost done. You’re doing great. Stay still and stay awake. Can you look at me?” He answered with the smallest of nods, an almost imperceptible movement. Carol moved closer to Hershel. It was torture to not know what they were doing out of your sight but at the same time, an immense relief. The zip of tape being pulled and torn was surely a sign of the procedure coming to an end.

But it was when Daryl drew in the deepest breath you had heard in two days that you felt yourself relax, truly and utterly just drain of tension, placing your forehead against his. “It’s over. Just rest now.” You focused on his even breaths, just the slightest wheeze, the barely audible rattle. He was limp against you, his hand still tangled in your sweater but no longer holding on. The archer was exhausted and sleep had claimed him almost instantly.

“Hershel?” You need not ask anything. He knew.

“It won’t last long, but it buys us some time. The incision was deep but small. I will examine him in a little while, make sure it stays clean. In the meantime, listen for any struggles with breathing. Let him rest.”

You nodded, your forehead brushing against Daryl’s. The used supplies had been gathered and the old man had already made his way downstairs. You caught Carol’s eye as she started to close the door.

“An hour.” You stated flatly.

“What?” The other woman stepped back into the room, her brow drawn.

“I’m giving them one hour. If they’re not back, I want the list and I’m going. There won’t be a discussion.” No room for argument. “You sit with him while I’m gone. You’re the only other person he really trusts.” She looked as if she might object, but when her shoulders relaxed, you knew you’d won. With a nod, she left the room.

Without Daryl’s desperate attempts to breathe, it was so quiet, a sound you welcomed and reveled in so deeply. Hershel had opened a doorway and you’d be damned if you’d let it close. Moving your arm below his to wrap around him, low on his back to avoid the incision, you used the leverage to pull yourself as close to him as you could with baby Dixon barring the way. The archer didn’t stir. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you felt the fever still burning hot, only fueling your determination to get what he needed if the group failed to return.

“I don’t care what you say or what you think. I don’t care why you think I shouldn’t.” You spoke softly, a near whisper. “I love you. And I am not losing you.”

Of course you had fallen asleep. Daryl was resting comfortably, albeit still feverish. You were cozy beside him. You felt safe while simultaneously feeling like you were guarding him. It had been more than an hour, that much was certain. Hershel hadn’t given a timeframe regarding how long the treatment would help Daryl and you were taking no chances. It was time to take things into your own hands.

As fate would have it, just as you began to disentangle yourself from Daryl, there were frantic footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. Daryl was too weak to move if walkers had wandered into the area. The door burst open without a knock, revealing a breathless blonde teenager wearing a brilliant smile.

“They’re back!”

You stared. It was all you could do, your voice had seemingly decided it was in just as much shock as you were. Besides, she had already disappeared, leaving the door wide open. A sob worked its way up your throat but you blocked it with your teeth, looking down at Daryl as he slept.

He would be okay.

The glare you had fixed on Hershel settled the maybe you should wait outside argument rather quickly. You weren’t leaving Daryl to be manhandled should he wake up confused.

A herd had blocked their direct path back. Of course one had. Because the world was cruel and unforgiving and the dead were always hungry and always looking for a life to take.

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were bringing up supplies while Maggie assisted her father with Daryl’s care. An IV was started immediately, after carefully searching for the perfect vein due to his state of dehydration. They didn’t have the cannulas to waste. Fluids were started right along with a bag of something called Azithromycin—an antibiotic, Hershel had said. They had scored several bags of each, along with a few other things that could be used for injuries or illnesses. But when they brought up the oxygen tanks, you could have sobbed.

The nasal cannula placement was what finally woke Daryl, bloodshot eyes scanning the room before you saw the first signs of panic. “Ssh. It’s okay.” You slid your hand under his and squeezed his fingers softly. “They’re back. Just let Hershal do his thing, okay? And then I’ll chase them all out. I promise.”

You were so relieved to see his usual scowl shift into place, even if it was somewhat diminished. “Fine.” He rasped.

“Good. Now, since I have your attention—don’t touch that—” you swatted his hand away from the cannula, “take these pills.” Hershel wanted around the clock alternation of acetaminophen and ibuprofen every four hours to get the fever under control.

With an utterance of something containing the word bossy he let you place the pills on his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry while you sat there offering a glass of water. There was a look shared between you that would have been amusing had either you had the energy to laugh. “Thanks.” He whispered, his hand shaking when he accepted the water. He only took a couple of sips but you wouldn’t hound him just yet. The fluids were going and he likely would take a while to feel like doing much of anything.

“We’ve done everything we can do for now. Just need to keep an eye on those bags and hang new ones when they’re empty. Keep giving the fever reducers and, son, try to drink when you feel like. The sooner you’re taking in fluids on your own, the better.”

“Leave that oxygen right where it is too.” Maggie added in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s nod was sluggish, his chin almost staying on his chest during the gesture. The commotion, everyone moving, even while he did nothing more than take a couple of pills, had left him running on fumes. As promised, you were up, hand on your lower back to rub away the ache there as you used the other to shoo everyone out of the room.

Absolutely nothing was stopping you from crawling under those sheets with him and sleeping for four glorious hours. You had asked Carol to keep an eye on that. Thank heavens he was lying in the middle of the bed. The side with the IV needed to be avoided.

Actually lying down with the intention to sleep, knowing Daryl was receiving the help he needed, you were just done for, already drifting off and somewhere between awake and asleep when you felt Daryl’s knuckles brush against yours. You took his hand without a second thought.

“Are you sure about this?” Carol asked, standing with you in the doorway of the bedroom. She was nervously glancing back and forth between you and Daryl. Aside from a few bouts of those harsh, barking coughs, he had slept the entire four hours and barely woke enough to choke down the pills before being pulled right back under.

“I’m sure.” You secured your knife in the sheath on your thigh and wiggled Daryl’s gun holster a little to the side so it wasn’t gouging into the bottom of your belly. Your rifle was long gone and you weren’t about to alert anyone else to your plans by choosing a different weapon. So with both your bag and Daryl’s crossbow on your back, you were ready to head out.

“You don’t have anything to prove, Y/N. We’ve lived off less. There’s a little jerky left and we have some cans—”

“I’ll be fine, Carol. I’m only going to be a few hours and hunt small game. If I happen across a doe that I can lift, I’ll take that chance, otherwise, it’ll be squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, or opossums. Yum.”

“What do I tell him if he wakes up and asks for you?” She shifted nervously.

“The truth. We don’t lie. If he tries to come after me, knock him out or barricade the door.”

She followed you to the top of the stairs but not down, staying close to Daryl as she had promised. “You really don’t need to go.”

“I do. I’m the only other hunter in this group. I won’t have him trying to go out sooner than he’s ready to make sure there’s enough.” You paused on the bottom step, staring at the door and then toward the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Chewing your bottom lip, you climbed up two more so she could hear you without alerting the rest. “If I’m not back before his next dose, I’m headed west. That’s where they can look.”

Carol looked so stricken and unsure so you offered her a smile, as she always did for you. Finally, she conceded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months

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BAD FOR BUSINESS: THE BONUS LEVEL

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

It was the first shift you’d had with Steve since you’d made each other come in the front seat of his car.

It had been as you expected: a little awkward, a little nerve wracking. Gazes meeting across the arcade, dim lights hiding Steve’s pink cheeks, your frantic, wide eyes, the hitched breaths every time the other came a little too close.

You stayed away for the most part, hidden behind the cash desk while Steve helped Mike Wheeler and his friends with the jerky controller on Space Invaders. But then the eight o’clock was rolling round and the customers left, Robin vacuumed the floors and Murray was hurrying out the door and telling you that you were in charge of locking up. The rain came when Robin left, her jacket stretched over her head as she ran to her mom’s car and then it was just Steve, watching you from across the desk.

The weather outside was a roar above your head, a deafening din of water of rain on the roof and with the machines powered down for the night, it was the only thing you could hear. Maybe, if you listened hard enough, you would’ve been able to hear your own heartbeat under it all, matching the erratic beat.

“You gonna help?” You asked Steve, just to break the tension. You gestured to the stack of receipts and tickets and coins on the desk that still needed counted. “Or are you just gonna gawk?”

Steve turned pinker under the lights, ultraviolet and fuschia, neon aquamarine from the glow of the games and Steve was too pretty under it all, prettier with his flushed cheeks. It gave you a little piece of normality back when he narrowed his eyes at you, brows furrowed, gaze bored. But his nose was still tinted pink when he reached your side and when his arm brushed yours, you hated and loved how close he was.

Your stomach flipped, tumbled, an endless fall into something you couldn’t make out. Not yet.

You stood in silence for minutes, maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Maybe it had only been one. But the tension was too much, it was splitting at the seams, it was cracking you open, a yawning, stretching ache in your chest, beating at your bones and—

“You’re not doing that right,” is what you said. And then you just shut up, lips sealed, features pinched as if in pain because it was taking you everything you had to not talk about the kiss. Both kisses. The two fucking kisses you’d shared with Steve fucking Harrington.

And it was easier to fight about it than anything else.

Steve scoffed like you knew he would, eyes rolling, lips curling. “How the fuck can I be doing it wrong?” He bit. “I’m counting tickets, princess, not balancing million dollar cheques.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Because he was side by side with hand brushing yours every time you both reached across the desk and he was warm, he was solid and he was wearing the same cologne from the Photo Booth and if you were going to put your smart mouth to use again, it was going to be against Steve’s.

It was too hot and suddenly the rain above wasn’t the loudest thing in the room. You swallowed hard and tried to block out the best of your heart against your ribcage. It was so loud, you wondered if Steve could hear it too.

“What? No argument?” Steve glanced at you from the side of his eyes, frowning. You weren’t sure what gave it away, maybe your tensed shoulders, your blown out pupils. Whatever it was, it made the boy too bold. “You’re lookin’ a little warm, princess, you okay there?”

Smug. Steve sounded smug and it was fucking infuriating.

And then you were on him.

Or maybe it was the other way around, you were sure. It happened seconds ago, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember anything. All that mattered now was that your lips were fused to Steve’s and he was crowding you against the counter, his hands splayed against your sides, fingers slipping up over your ribs and making your shirt slide with it, bare skin exposed for him to touch, a gasp wrenched from his throat at the feel of you, your hands grabbing at his hair and pulling hard.

He was moaning, but maybe you were too, gasping into each others patted mouths and swallowing each others noises, noses smashed to cheeks and hands roaming, bodies pressed together in a desperate bid to get as close as possible with your clothes still on and you’d never been so glad that Murray never bothered with working security cameras.

Steve was saying your name, whispers of it between curses, making it sound like a prayer, like you were something holy, that you were gonna save him but you decided then and there you’d do whatever it took to make Steve sound the way he did - even if you went to hell with him.

But then he was pushing you away, panting, big hands curling around the backs of your knees and you were on the desk, tickets and coins scattering, sitting in a pool of neon lights and the silk of your splayed skirt.

Steve sucked in a breath, wrecked sounding. He’d never looked prettier. Swollen lips, pink cheeks, hair a riot from your teasing fingers, his eyes darker than they were supposed to be.

“I wanna go down on you, so fuckin’ badly.”

You swore out loud, brain glitching for a second, stuttering over the words that had gotten stuck in your throat and you were nodding, frantic, head bobbing and jaw hanging loose because Steve was dropping to his knees and sliding his palms up your thighs.

“M’gonna need some confirmation here, princess,” Steve urged, kissing across your knee, his hair tickling at the insides of your thighs.

You were tingling, an electric kind of buzz running under your skin, your body a livewire and you hadn’t felt this turned on since god knows fucking when. It was a filthy, pretty thing, dirty and wrong and in an inappropriate place with a beautiful boy who you’d tricked yourself into hating.

Supposedly.

So you let some sounds rip from your throat and thankfully they made words, desperate pleas of agreement and Steve was grinning, looking like he’d had all his wishes granted as he mouthed his way between your thighs. He didn’t hesitate and there was no shame from you either as he dragged up your skirt, fingers hooking into the cotton of your underwear so he could pull it to the side. He groaned, a breath punching from him as his lips parted at the sight of you, pretty and wet and waiting.

He made you squeal, smiling against you as he leaned in to kiss at your folds, delicate little things against your slick skin, nose nudging at your clit and then you moaned his name and he lost all sense of control.

“Steve, oh— ohmygod, fuck!” You lurched forward, body curling over him as you grabbed at the boy’s hair and Steve just answered in kind, hands curling around the tops of your thighs to pull you closer to him, your ass perched precariously on the edge of the counter, toes skimming the floor and you were almost riding his face, hips rolling as he held you up and licked broad stripes over your cunt.

He only moved back to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to the juncture of your thigh but he had your eyes rolling when he looked up at your from under his lashes, lips pink and wet from you. “M’so goddamn hard right now, you have no idea.”

You were crying out, an awfully loud moan ripping from your lips and you were putty, you were a mess. And for the next fifteen minutes, you were entirely Steve’s. He took you apart with his tongue and his lips and you let him, his blunt fingernails leaving half moon markings in your hips that’d you stare at in the mirror later.

And when you came, hard, grinding down onto Steve’s mouth, his chin, his nose, you let go of your manic grip on his hair and smoothed a hand over his temple instead, coaxing him closer before you gasped out his name, breathless.

The next morning, nobody could answer why there were tickets scattered over the floor, hidden under machines and stuck to forgotten bubblegum. And when the rest of the team looked to you and Steve for answers, you both just walked in opposite directions, matching smiles hidden in the shadows between the neon lights.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut

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calummss · 6 months

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Orange, White and Dark Rosé | Rebekah Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: with cancer slowly eating you alive, you come back to school to see a beautiful girl that has started to make you question everything you thought you knew

pairing: fem! reader x rebekah mikaelson

words: 3.9k

a/n: for my girl kissers!! <33 also i believe this is my longest fic yet… NOT PROOFREAD

You’ve had the worst few months of your life. What started out as a simple cough became more painful throughout the weeks. Each cough as though your lungs were torn from your chest, no air to keep you breathing. Night sweats became drowning; difficulty swallowing became not eating at all.

‘You have pleural mesothelioma, Miss Blanchard.’ The words the doctor uttered still so freshly imprinted on your mind. He continued moving his lips but nothing but inaudible muffles penetrated your ears as the sound of your own heartbeat filled your empty void.

Several nights after your diagnosis you woke up. The air drained from your lungs as fluid started to build up between your lungs and chest wall. The sensation of drowning without water in sight. It was a nightmare. Your body turning on you, ready to take you away despite the care you took to look after it.

Following those events you were pulled out of school, your parents worried sick as their daughter was at risk for involuntary death any minute of any day. The feeling of loneliness only increasing as you spent most days alone in your room; on the chair at your therapist's office; or the dining table chair, eyes piercing through you as you tried to make conversation about anything else but your cancer.

‘Do you need help cutting the chicken?’, ‘Need more water?’, ‘Leave the dishes, sweetheart. Your dad and I’ll get to them.’

Your cancer not only took your life but your maturity, letting people treat you like a damsel in distress, needing help with everything when you wish you could just forget everything bad for one day and live as normally as you could, one day at a time.

‘I’m going back to school,’ you said, placing your cutlery down on the dinner mat, staring onto your plate as you could hear the chewing of rubbery green beans stop.

Your mother grabbed her glass of wine, clearing her throat and washing it down all at once. Your father stared at your mother as she tried to find words that reflected her wish to protect you and to keep you as comfortable as possible.

‘I’m sorry, darling, you said you wanted to go back to school?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can I ask what brought this sudden request.’ She neatly folded her ageing hands underneath her chin, her eyes resting on you as your father’s eyes jumped from frame to frame, unsure what to say.

‘I just want to live as normal as possible,’ you let out a sigh, ‘I miss my friends, I miss having to do stuff, I miss…I can’t believe I’m saying this,’ you chuckled, feeling heat rush through your face. ‘I miss homework. School assignments, presentations, stuff I hated before but made me normal. A normal girl living a boring life. I’m missing my chance at a full life just because of this cancer I’m sure will rob me even further as time passes. I need to be able to feel like I belong somewhere despite…all this.’

Their eyes stayed focused on you, soft eyebrows trying to interpret what you needed the most in a time where everything slowly started to deteriorate.

‘Have you thought about what your school life would be like now, Y/n?’ Your father engulfed your hands, his thumb rubbing circles as he often did. ‘You would need to carry around an oxygen tank in case of an emergency. You complained every day that the school day was hard and now it will be three times that of before. I understand where you're coming from but I need you to know what decision you are making…Your mother and I only want what’s best for you and if that is going back to school so be it. But we will have to make sure you are okay at all times.’

‘I really do want to go back…’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fine,’ your mother took your other free hand. ‘You can go back to school. But promise us that when things get hard that you will tell us and may have to take a step back from school again.’

‘I promise.’ You smiled at them, squeezing their hands tight. ‘I will accept my limits when they come.’

The very next week you stood back on the familiar ground of Mystic Falls High; home to the timberwolves. The bell you dreaded every morning , rather wanting to exchange gossip with Elena and Caroline. However that particular morning you have never felt more excited to walk through the halls. Hallways you haven’t seen in a few months. Faces of fellow students.

Walking through the door you noticed a heap of pitiful glances, welcome backs, get well soons and prayers. It wasn't unusual for everyone to know what had happened to you, Mystic Falls was a small town after all. Their words of condolences were sweet. You cherished them. But when you live on limited time, burned out hope and terminal cancer with a survival rate of 9.6%, it was hard to pretend like you would get better when their words could easily be uttered to a person that simply caught the common cold. Nothing could fix you. The only thing you had were fifteen months to make sure to drain every last drop of experiences life has to offer. No prayers, no words of the world could help—only medicine could. And even that was a shot in the dark. Caroline had offered her vampire blood to you on more than one occasion, but you were convinced that it wouldn’t help so you declined it over and over again, continuing to deny the chance at a normal life that you craved more than anything.

Heading towards your locker, you placed your emergency oxygen tank inside, the dust of month’s absences piling on old books you had left behind the day the cough became too unbearable.

Closing the door you made your way to your first class of the day; history taught by Mr. Saltzman. Bracing yourself to walk into a room full of eyes, you noticed that the classroom was empty for the exception of a girl. She was beautiful. The type of beautiful you would see beyond your day, wondering whether or not you would see them again. She had light hair, almost as white as her skin that bore freckles across the apples of her cheeks and nose that stuck between pages of a book that let her long black lashes show. Full lips pursed, knitted eyebrows framing her face.

‘I’m sorry,’ you felt rude for interrupting her obvious devotion to studying. ‘Is this history with Mr. Saltzman?’

‘Yes.’ She answered boorishly, eyes stuck on the pages, rushing her words as she paid no attention to you.

‘Where is everyone?’ God you were embarrassed to disrupt her again.

‘How would I know?’ She sighed, finally looking up. Her blue eyes locking with yours as you appreciated her beauty, wishing you looked like her. To be so flawless.

‘Oh, I’m sorry—I just—ehm, it’s kind of my first day back in a few months and the lack of students is making me doubt if I am in fact in the right room…’

‘No, this is the correct room,’ she stopped looking at her notes, her crystal eyes glued to your face as you continued to study her details. ‘So you went here before then?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you stop?’

‘Got sick.’ You pressed your lips together, sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans that clung to your thighs.

‘What sickness?’ She asked with a genuine look of interest, almost as if it were her first time encountering a sick person. Lucky her.

‘Cancer.’

‘Ohh,’ she puckered up her lips, squinting at you, her words confusingly sounding concerned and uninterested. ‘That sucks.’

‘Yeah,’ you breathed, the continuous standing started to make itself known as your shoulders started to feel lighter. ‘It sucks.’

‘Well you are free to sit next to me. I don’t tend to be liked by most.’ Her pearly teeth peaked between dark roseish lips. ‘I’m Rebekah by the way,’

‘Y/n,’ you smiled back. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Walking over to sit down next to her, the sudden sound of familiar voices washed over you as Caroline and Elena came through the entrance, their eyes widening as soon as they saw you standing back in the classroom that had felt your absence the past months.

‘Y/n, oh my god!’ They almost shouted in union as they sprinted to hug you tight, their arms merging into your back as you reunited with your friends. No hospital visits or phone calls, just friends seeing each other in school like you always have.

‘Come sit with us!’ Caroline dragged you towards the front of the room, your eyes turning back to Rebekah who had observed your encounter with the girls, her eyes smiling back at you, her spark diminished as you parted from her.

In your next class you saw Rebekah again.

Again sitting alone at the dissecting table and when you made up your mind to sit next to her, Rebekah noticing your upcoming footsteps, Elena and Caroline barged through the door like they had before. Pulling you towards the opposite end of where she was sitting, her seat staying vacant as her eyes continued to find you throughout the lesson.

‘Rebekah, wait!’ You called after her, the last sound of the bell signalling the end of the school day.

Rebekah turned around, her blonde hair framing her face. Strands of hair blowing across her face, caught amongst her lashes. The sun reflecting on her skin.

‘About your offer to sit next to you,’ you lifted your arm to block the blazing sun. ‘I would like it if you held that spot for me tomorrow. If you still want me to sit next to you…’

‘Sure, it’s not like it’ll be occupied anytime soon. It’s yours to take.’

‘Okay then…’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n, okay?’

‘Sure, yeah totally,’ you cleared your throat as you mentally prepared for the criticism you were about to hold above your head. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Rebekah gave you a last smile, ‘Bye.’

‘Bye,’ you whispered, her feet already taking off towards the other side of your way home, leaving behind a manipulative smell of vanilla and macadamia nut, that you swore was the nicest fragrance you had smelled in a long time.

The next day you came walking back through the class again, finding Rebekah by herself at her assigned spot, her hand swiftly moving across her page.

‘Good morning, Y/n.’ She greeted, her eyes never leaving her paper.

‘How could you tell it was me?’

‘I smelled your strawberry perfume before you even entered the room,’ she finally lifted her head to reveal her face.

‘Do you like it?’ What is wrong with me?????

‘I do.’ Nevermind.

‘You don’t mind if I keep my word, right?’ You eyes up the chair next to her, waiting for her response, silently hoping that no one would barge in to seat you away from her.

‘Feel free to use all the space you need.’

You chuckled, letting your feet carry you to the table next to her, her familiar scent back in your memory as you took out your school supplies, feeling her gaze on you.

‘So,’ you turned your head to her body already turned towards you. ‘Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before?’

‘Yeah, I am. I moved here a couple of weeks ago. My brother has been here for a month now and I wanted a change of scenery.’ She let out a breath. ‘There’s only so much of New Orleans you can take.’

‘New Orleans? That is very different from Mystic Falls…’ You raised your eyebrows with a grin, your armpit resting over the back of the chair, legs crossed, turned towards her. ‘Do you like it here?’

‘So far I do…’ Rebekah glanced at you, a shimmer of light swimming amongst her pale eyes.

‘That’s good…’ You stared back because it was the only thing you could do.

Her hand reached for your hair, taking a strand of it and twirling it around her index finger, gently laying the curls heated with her body temperature on your shoulder, ‘You have really nice hair.’

‘Thank you,’ you felt a rush of heat make its way to your cheeks, your stomach starting to feel queasy as you let her words repeat in your mind. ‘I love your— well actually everything about you is really beautiful.’

‘You are too kind.’

‘I wouldn’t lie.’

‘I know you’re not.’

‘Good…’ Your eyes couldn’t part from her, her face burned into the back of your mind, still wanting to stare at her as long as you could. Her smile bringing warmth to you.

‘I wouldn’t lie either,’ she repeated.

‘Good.’

The teacher came in, disturbing the awful long eye contact, both cleared by loud coughs, Rebekah and your eyes settling to the front of the class; no more looks being exchanged for the rest of the lesson, though you fought the urge to catch a glimpse.

‘Do you have anything planned today?’ Rebekah and you walk out of the building, the school day coming to an end as grey clouds started to gather above you.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Would you like to come over to mine?’ She turned her face to you. ‘We could watch a movie, bake something, I don’t know. Do something typical for a teenage girl.’

Typical for a teenage girl. Normalcy. She treated you normally. Never once mentioning the fact you were sick or if you were okay with it. She treated you like an equal.

‘I would love to.’ You replied, feeling glad that a person could forget about everything shitty in your life and talk to you like you were just like them.

Rebekah drove you to her home, finding out that she had a rather large heep in possession. The kind of car you’d take to the beach on an early summer morning; running towards the cold water as sand stuck to your naked skin. Rebekah was a good driver, unlike your father that made you glad that you had health insurance…

Seemingly arriving at her house, a big mansion greeted you. Surrounded by trees, a long driveway leading to the mansion’s entrance.

‘This is your house?’ You asked, eyes glued onto the building, imagini how many room it must’ve had. How many square feet it covered.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s so nice.’

‘I know,’ she chuckled, unbuckling her seatbelt. ‘I have to admit that my brother does have great taste when it comes to architecture. Suppose it’s his only good trait.

‘You have a brother?’

‘Too many…’

You let out a laugh, you too unbuckled your seatbelt to step out of her car, feeling so small as you walked towards the door. The interior of the house was just as beautiful. Simple yet classy Rebekah threw her keys onto one of the dressers that stood by the door and told you to follow her, your head turning left and right, mesmerised by everything you took in.

‘Rebekah.’ You suddenly heard a male voice call from behind you. He had a nice accent just like she did.

‘What, Nik?’ She didn’t sound too happy to see him.

‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’

‘This is Y/n from school. Don’t eat her, she has cancer.’

You listened to her with a quizzical look on your face, looking at her as she mirrored your expression.

‘What?’ She asked.

‘Vampire?’ You asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Hmm,’

‘You don’t seem surprised…’

‘I have lived in Mystic Falls all my life,’ you let out a jestful breath. ‘Nothing surprises me anymore.’

‘Well,’ his voice made you turn your back on Rebekah, his tone full of pride and confidence, ‘welcome to my humble abode.’

‘Humble is a great word to describe all of this,’ you grinned, looking at the room once more. ‘But it is really nice. You have good taste.’

‘I know I do. Best get going then,’ he pointed towards Rebekah whose facial expressions couldn’t have made it clearer that she wanted to get away from him.

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’

You paced towards Rebekah who told you to follow her, different hallways leading towards a really nice kitchen.

She grabbed all the ingredients that you thought was going to make a cake and watched as her eyes crinkled, so focused on finding everything that you needed.

‘Are we making a cake?’

‘We are,’ she snuck a quick grin, her head pack in the cabinet searching for a baking tin.

‘What type of cake?’

‘Well,’ she resurfaced, placing the tin on the counter, her cheeks lightly flushed. ‘I kind of asked Elena what your favourite cake was and she said your favourite was a lemon cake, so we are going to make that. Unless she lied…’

‘No, no,’ you tried hiding a grin, fingers picking at your palm. ‘It is my favourite.’

‘Good.’ Rebekah exclaimed, almost throwing the flour at you. ‘You'll do dry and I’ll do the wets.’

Continuing to make the cake, Rebekah was whisking the cake batter enthusiastically, dancing along to Stacy’s Mom that blasted through the stereo. Carelessly throwing her limbs up and down, swaying her head with the biggest grin you had ever seen…She was so beautiful

‘Oh,’ Rebekah gasped, your mouth widening in shocked as wet drops of batter landed on your face, Rebekah accidentally swinging the wrong arm to the rhythm.

You let out a giggle, trying to swipe away the batter but it was no ise. Every stroke just spreading it more evenly across your face. ‘Shit.’

‘Here I got it,’ she set aside the bowl and came closer, placing her thumb on your cheek, getting the batter on her finger, her eyes momentarily longing on you. She retracted her thumb and licked off the excess, eyes never breaking contact.

You stared at her for what felt like forever, captivated by her face; her eyes, her lips, all whispering to you that you should come closer. You leaned in, your heart beating so powerfully you ought to stop, exhaustion that came with the sickness. But you didn’t. Neither did she. Her breath ricocheted off your cheeks, her glimmering eyes infatuating yours as you could feel your lips take the lead but before your skins touched, a loud opening of the door made you jump back, looking back at what had caused you to separate.

‘What do you want, Elijah?’ Rebekah asked forcefully, the older man’s eyes glimpsing at both you and her

‘Do I need to want something walking around in my house?’

You observed the two, their banter making it clear that he too must be one of the ‘too many’ brothers she had talked about.

Feeling queasy, you quickly said goodbye to Rebekah and Elijah, telling them you weren’t feeling too well, a perk when being the teenager with cancer. Everyone at all times will believe it.

You had to get away from Rebekah. She was clouding your mind and falling for a girl wasn’t supposed to happen. You’ve been with a guy or two and those feelings you felt when you were around them, you recognised as the image of her resurrected itself in your mind. You liked her, but you couldn’t like her. At least not right now.

‘I’m home!’ You called into the house, the smell of grilled eel filtering through the air: your favourite.

‘We’re in the kitchen!’

You placed your backpack next to the stairs, ready to take them to your room once you were done with dinner. Entering the kitchen you saw your mother plate the last of the cut up eel pieces onto the plate, placing it on the table with some salads and rice. Your father stood by the kitchen aisle making some mocktails from his newly purchased mocktail cookbook thing you got him recently.

After dinner you went up to your room, putting the oxygen tube on your face as today’s exhaustion came running to you. Thinking back on the moments that increased your heartbeat.

‘Honey, are you okay?’ You heard your father’s footsteps approaching your room, leaning against the door frame.

‘Yeah,’ you nodded, glancing at your oxygen tank. ‘Hard day. Have to catch my breath. Literally.’

He chuckled, coming in to hug you. ‘Just make sure to tell us once you’ve reached your limit, okay? I know you like to act tough and pretend that you can still keep up but you need to have a reality check. You’re not the same as before and that’s okay. No one is trying to put you in a box. You just need to accept that certain limits cannot be reached anymore…’

‘Yeah I know, dad. I know. It’s just hard having to turn my back on my past life.

The next few weeks Rebekah and you pretended like the moment back at her house didn’t happen. Continuing to sit next to each other in class, meeting at each other’s houses or going out in town.

It was easier ignoring the moment than trying to talk about it because if you were being honest, what would you even say? You liked her as a friend. Nothing more. You’ve known her for less than a month so how could your heart possibly flutter at the thought of her touch on your skin.

Then you were invited to the Mikaelson ball, a card delivered to your doorstep. On the back Rebekah’s writing said, to meet her there to clear stuff up.

So when Friday came, you managed to find a dress and head towards the mansion you had previously entered before. Only this time you were hooked to oxygen after a water build up episode that caused your lungs to fill with water.

Arriving at the mansion you were greeted by servants who took your coat, without looking, wanting to grab your tank thinking it was luggage. ‘I’ll be needing this…’

‘Hi.’

You turned around, already knowing whose soft voice it belonged to.

‘Hi.’

‘You look gorgeous.’ She awed in amazement.

‘You too.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ you noticed her lingering stare on your tank. ‘Lungs filled with water. Nothing crazy.’

‘We need to talk. I’m sorry.’

‘No I’m sorry.’ You said.

‘For what.?’

Compelled in the moment you pulled the last of your confidence together and stepped closer to Rebekah, who looked unsure of what you were about to do. ‘For this.’ You placed your lips on Rebekah’s, gently kissing her lips as a thousand thoughts filled your mind, all screaming to stop, but you didn’t want to.

Rebekah’s hand found your face as she deepened the kiss,careful not to tangle the oxygen tube.

You’ve never felt this way before. You thought Rebekah was just the type of pretty you wanted to be, not knowing that she was just someone you wanted to be with. And with dying time there wasn’t another person you would rather kiss other than her.

The start of a short love story; the dead and dying.

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navybrat817 · 11 months

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𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and @sgt-seabass

Stay reformed. Erase this perfect world. Hate left below. The dark stray dog of war. (x)

Pairing — Bucky Barnes x Reader W/C — Almost 5k This is a dark fic. 18+ only. Listening to - Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea Previous part - A Tide of War and Broken Dreams

Warnings — angst, kidnapping, aftermath of attack, injuries, threat of violence against reader, Hydra exists, Bucky whump A/N — Welcome to the next part of our Vengeance AU! Quick reminder that this is a dark fic and things are going to be extremely rough for our reader (and Bucky) in the upcoming parts. Please heed the warnings and we hope you enjoy the ride!

Coming home to you was the thing Bucky looked forward to the most after a mission. Whether you were wide awake to greet him with a smile or curled up in bed sound asleep, the sight of you was like coming home every time. The love of his life, you taught him to believe in dreams again when he lived in a nightmare for so long. While he was darkness and pain, you were light and warmth and hope. You were part of his redemption, his dream he had long forgotten come true.

In hindsight, he should've thanked you more for loving him.

Even as his shoulders sagged from exhaustion, he smiled to himself as he took his keys from his pocket. You drew interlocking hearts with a red marker on the apartment key after his last mission. It was a reminder that the two of you had a home made with love. And that he had someone to come back to.

In hindsight, he should've shown more appreciation for the small things you did for him.

When Bucky got to the door, he wondered if you were awake or asleep since it was still early. Would you wake up if he joined you in bed? He hoped you got enough rest without him, remembering how you tried to get him to stay home. You seemed more nervous than normal for him to leave and it wasn't easy for him to shake, but you were safe there. And once he kicked his boots off and greeted Alpine, he'd wrap himself up in you as he put the mission behind him. He refused to let his work, or past, taint the beautiful space you created together.

In hindsight, he should've listened when you asked him to stay.

Darkness greeted him as he undid the multiple locks and pushed the door open, his senses on high alert when he noticed objects strewn along the floor in the dark. Alpine knocked things over when she had her zoomies, but this was something different. The aura of the room was heavy, and when Bucky stepped inside he could feel the air thicken suffocatingly. He reached for his gun as he listened for any sign of someone in the apartment. When he didn't hear any voices, or heartbeats, he turned on the light switch. He nearly got sick when the smell drifted to his nostrils.

Blood.

It was quickly becoming apparent that something was very, very wrong. Bucky’s heart spiked in a flurry, and while he wanted to freak out, his tactical survival mindset switched on, his emotions temporarily waning. The former assassin and current sergeant trembled as he stepped forward, careful not to track his footsteps through the blood in the hall. If this was a crime scene… He pushed the thought away as he glanced down at a photo of the two of you, the red fluid staining the beautiful memory and drowning out the happiness.

He experienced hell, but it still didn't prepare him for the sight of your living room as he kept his gun trained. Everything from the table to your hard work lay in scattered pieces. The sight of destruction made his stomach turn. It was as if someone wanted to ruin the care put into this place. Even the air was colder, shadows taking over the normally bright space.

It was pure destruction.

Why didn't he get an alert of a break-in? His security wasn't as good as Stark's system, but he should've received something. He knew the signs of a robbery, but this was something else entirely. Whoever did this knew what they were doing and he feared what that meant for you.

"What is that?" he muttered, stepping over broken dishes as he saw something written in blood.

BLONDE

His brilliant and amazing other half tried to leave him a clue.

All his training and thought went out the window as he spotted the knife normally hidden under the couch soaked with blood feet away, screaming your name as he frantically searched for you. He choked on a sob as glass crunched under the boots, the bathroom in the same disarray as the rest of the apartment. The bloody footprints led away from the room. Was this where it started?

You put up a fight, didn't you, doll?

Fury surged through him at the thought of someone hurting and scaring you, for daring to put their hands on you. You weren't trained to fight and you didn't deal with pain well, but you had spirit. You had heart. But he wasn't here to defend you.

In hindsight, he should've been there to protect you.

"Meow."

Bucky pointed his gun at the ground as he spun around, a tear sliding down his cheek when he saw Alpine's normally white fur darkened red. He holstered his weapon before he crouched down to check her. Physically, she was fine, but he knew she was shaken up. So was he. "Hey. I've got you," he whispered, trying to soothe her and himself when she nuzzled his chest.

Keeping her close, he finally made his way to the bedroom. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were there, stretched out and smiling as you welcomed him home. He could join you, hold you, and know he was home. But all he saw was an empty bed.

You were gone.

In hindsight, he never should've gone on that mission.

"Who did this, Al? Where is she?" he asked, wishing his cat could tell him what happened. You were kind to everyone. You had no enemies. Everyone loved you.

I love you so much, doll.

Trying one last thing, he got his phone out to call you and hoped by some miracle you'd answer.

You didn't.

"Hi! You've reached the voicemail of…"

Hearing your cheerful voicemail unleashed his tears as he hung up and collapsed on the bed. The scent of your perfume lingered on the sheets as Alpine curled up in his lap and for a moment it was as if you were there to assure him you were hanging on. To not give up on you.

Never. I'd fight for you 'til my last breath.

It took him a moment to dial Steve's number, trying his best to keep it together as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. This was his fault. It had to be. He could blame himself later. For now, he had to find you. He had to bring you home. And he tear apart the blonde monster who dared to lay a hand on you.

"Hey, Bucky. What's going on?" Steve asked as he answered.

There was a beat of silence before Bucky let out a choked sob. He placed his hand over his mouth for a moment, whimpers slipping past his fingers before he got the words out.

"She's gone," he whispered, a tear falling on Alpine's head.

"What?"

"She's gone," he repeated as he cried, the sound drowning out Steve's voice. The last time he broke down like this was in Wakanda, the day he was free of Hydra's hold over him. That was the beginning of a new dawn, like when you entered his life.

But today was the beginning of a brand new nightmare.

Wherever you are, please, hold on.

Pain, by definition, is an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage. What you felt as you tried to open your eyes went beyond unpleasant, the physical anguish drawing a groan from you began to sit up. Your body screamed at your mind to lay back down as your vision slowly adjusted to the light, immediately recognizing that you weren’t in your home by the look of the dirty ceiling.

Where am I?

The last thing you remembered were the three strangers, your attackers, standing over your weakened body. You had no clue what shape you were in, but it couldn’t be great judging by the ache you felt just from waking up. You didn't know what you had done to receive their wrath, but they miraculously listened to your plea and didn't kill you. For a moment, you thought the men were going to leave your lifeless body for Bucky to find.

Bucky.

The physical pain shifted to your heart as you imagined him getting back to the apartment only to find it in ruin. You didn’t know when he would return from his mission or how long you were unconscious, but you had to get back to him. He needed to know you survived and he sure as hell wouldn’t just lay there if he were in your shoes. You had to be strong for him, even if you felt weak.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to push yourself up. The left side of your body protested, but you managed to get in a sitting position after a few seconds. Glancing down, you pulled the flimsy sheet away and expected to see random splotches of dried blood on your naked body. You found none because someone took the liberty of cleaning you and putting an oversized shirt on you.

Who did that?

The only relief you felt was there was no soreness between your legs. They kept your dignity intact and didn't taint that part of your soul. You would take the pain over that.

You gingerly touched your left shoulder, wincing as you felt the wrapping under the fabric. The brunette stabbed you, the flash of the memory in your mind making your stomach lurch. But was he the one who patched up your wound? There were bandages around your feet, too. Who removed the shards of glass? Or were they cruel enough to leave them there?

You fought the urge not to cry when you noticed the cuff around your left ankle attached to a chain. Sniffling, you slowly swung your legs to the side of the bed, the clinking sound momentarily distracting you from the ache as you set your feet on the ground. The musky smell of the filthy room filled your nostrils as you looked around. It reminded you of a basement, but worse. The average size room had no windows. A lone light in the ceiling. A toilet. A sink. And a bucket beside the bed.

The one someone chained you to.

Like a prisoner.

You braced your hands on your knees to keep your breathing even, but it didn’t stop your stomach from lurching again at the reality and stress of your situation. Combined with the ache of your body and the smell on your cell, you managed to grab the bucket just in time before you wretched. You hated throwing up, almost as much as you hated being in pain. You could never put your finger on why you couldn't handle it well. Maybe it was because you had little experience in dealing with it in comparison to someone like Bucky.

"Ouch!" you hissed, shoving the paper away on your desk. "Damn."

"You okay?" Bucky called from the kitchen, his footsteps already heading toward you.

"Paper cut," you pouted, showing him. His look of concern made your heart swell. "Will you kiss it better?

"Poor thing," he said, his tone sympathetic and not chastising as he helped you up. "I'll kiss it once I put a bandaid on it."

"Why do they hurt so much?" you asked as he led you to the bathroom, feeling silly for saying that. It was just a paper cut.

"Because paper is actually jagged and acts more like a saw than a knife blade," Bucky explained, giving your finger a kiss once he cleaned and wrapped a bandage around it. "And there are a lot of pain receptors in your fingers. Cutting through those nerve endings hurts."

"You're so smart," you smiled, your finger tingling as he gave it one more kiss. "I'm just a baby."

"You're not a baby. You're allowed to feel what you feel," he assured you, pressing his lips against yours. "Just be glad it wasn't your foot."

"How would someone get a paper cut on their foot?" you giggled when he smiled.

"It could happen. And if it does, I'll kiss it better."

“I’m okay,” you whispered again after you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stood up and you couldn’t stop the whimper as you took a step forward. While you didn’t think they left any glass in your feet, it sure as hell hurt to put your weight on them. Your legs shook as you moved toward the sink, which was far from the door. It was slow going, but you put one foot in front of the other. You longed to feel Alpine rub her fur against your leg as you rinsed your mouth out with surprisingly clean water.

At least those bastards didn’t hurt her. Or did they?

You didn’t make a mad dash for the door, not wanting to do more damage to yourself, but you tried to move a little faster. Each step was more painful than the last and you nearly collapsed when the chain couldn’t give any further. You whined as you tried to stretch and touch the door. Of course, you couldn’t reach it, but you were so close.

Yet so far away.

"Come on," you whispered, unable to hold back a sob when you yanked on the chain.

For some reason, maybe it was fear or thinking no one would help, you didn’t scream. It wouldn’t do you any good when you didn’t have much energy to spare. You tried to think of what Bucky or any of the other Avengers would do in this situation as you wiped the tears away. Not like they’d let something like this happen to them. No, you couldn’t think like that. This wasn’t your fault.

The only ones to blame were the ones who took you.

You didn't get a chance to feel along the walls or look around any further when you heard three sharp bangs on the door. Stumbling backwards, you winced as you fell against the mattress and watched the door swing open. You couldn't stop your heart from pounding at the sight of the three men casually entering the room. The ones who ruined your home.

And took you from Bucky.

Your attackers stared you down as you cowered on the bed. They no longer wore the hoodies with the green symbols, each of them clad in black t-shirts and tactical pants. The brunette crossed his arms and looked all too pleased at your present state. The dirty blonde glanced around the room with a sneer, like he was too good to be inside of a dirty cell. The blonde who attacked you first showed no emotion as you hugged your knees to your chest.

Up close, and from your sitting position, the men were large and intimidating in stature. The room felt smaller from the space they took up, threatening to suffocate you. They easily tossed you around your home and you didn't want to imagine the damage they would do to you here. You were a doe in a den of wolves.

Would you manage to get out of the woods?

“About time you woke up, toy,” the brunette said, checking the chain to make sure it was still secure. "I was about three seconds away from dumping water on you."

“She looks like shit,” the dirty blonde commented with a small chuckle.

Heat filled your cheeks. You hadn't looked in a mirror, but of course, you looked awful. Felt like it, too. What did they expect when they nearly beat you to death?

"I guess we didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves, did we? I’m Maddox. That’s Damien. And that’s Kage. We already know who you are, but your name doesn’t really matter.”

You remembered them referencing each other as they attacked you, but you didn’t recognize them from anywhere. Bucky never mentioned them. They were distinct enough to stand out if he had.

Kage didn't acknowledge how you stiffened as he got close to you. Gently pulling on the sleeve of the shirt, he checked your shoulder and glided a warm hand down the other side of your body. Was he going to hurt you again? What about the others? You didn’t see any obvious weapons on them, but that didn’t mean anything. They were strong enough to beat you if you tried to fight. The thought had you hugging yourself tighter when you felt the blonde's breath on your neck.

“Told you the little bitch would puke,” Maddox said, nodding toward the bucket when Kage finally pulled away. You woke up chained to a bed in an unfamiliar place. How were you supposed to react? "You’re not much of a conversationalist,” he added, making you move back against the wall as he stepped closer this time.

There were plenty of things you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You’re really not going to say anything? That’s rude,” Damien said, nudging Kage with his elbow. “Why isn’t she talking?”

“Ask her,” the blonde replied.

“Why aren’t you talking to us?” Damien asked, crouching down and patting your cheek harder than necessary. You didn't want any of them touching you. “We know you’re not deaf, so speak.”

You didn't know much about him, but his tone came across as entitled. Like he expected people to jump at his word. "I’m scared," you admitted.

“You should be,” Maddox mocked, pulling Damien back a little. "But I don’t see what being scared has to do with you not talking. You were pretty mouthy with your whole ‘I’m still winning’ bullshit.”

"I’m scared because you almost killed me," you told them, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. Had they really forgotten that or did they not care?

"But we didn't. We let you live,” Damien said, like you should’ve thanked him for allowing you to still breathe. “Your vocal chords still work. Use them."

"I don’t want to," you whispered. All you wanted to do was go home and let Bucky know you were okay. “I don’t want to talk to any of you.”

The humor left Maddox’s face at your answer. "You say that like we give a shit about what you want. Talk, or we'll cut your tongue out if you refuse to use it."

Fear spiked at the threat, knowing it wasn't an empty one. The man stabbed you in the shoulder simply because you tried to fight back. "Okay, I will," you promised, though you weren’t sure what they wanted you to say. "Thank you for patching me up."

Even though they were the ones who inflicted the wounds, they could've easily let infection set in or not tend to them at all. Your statement didn't get much of a reaction from them though, minus the slight look of surprise on Damien's face. "You should be thankful. Put this roof over your head, too."

"Thanks," you said again. At least you had a bed. "Where are we?"

He burst out laughing. What was so funny? "We're in a room. And here we thought you were smart being a graphic designer and all."

"How did you know that?" you asked when his laughter died down. Did they discover that when they wrecked your place or did they do their research on you?

"Dami's great with computers and systems," Maddox smirked, clapping him proudly on the shoulder. The younger man preened at the compliment. "Your security system's lacking, but the camera loves you."

These monsters hacked your apartment cameras? Invaded your privacy? It was a violation that neither of you deserved. It was how they likely knew Bucky wouldn't be home to help you. "Why were you watching my place?"

"We have our reasons," Kage replied, not expanding on the topic.

Maybe, by some miracle, the cameras picked up on what happened to you. As much as you didn't want Bucky to witness your attack and kidnapping, it could give him clues to your whereabouts since you were only able to write one word in blood. "Are you going to let me go?”

"Kage, I think that hit to the head did more damage than we thought," Damien joked.

"Let's clarify for that baby brain of yours: We're not letting you go, so don't fucking ask,” Maddox stated.

Your heart sank the longer you sat there. "Is it money that you want?" you asked. Had they demanded a ransom from Bucky or anyone else for your release?

"Oh, please," Maddox rolled his eyes, as if you asked a stupid question. "Didn’t we already tell you this isn’t about money? Damien has more than he knows what to do with."

“Then what is it about? I haven’t done anything to you. To any of you,” you pleaded, wishing you were stronger. But was it weak to beg? To want to go free? “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

"How self centered to think this is about you."

"I-I'm not self centered,” you gently argued. You weren’t a perfect person, but you had a good heart and wouldn’t hurt anyone for the world. “I'm just trying to understand."

"Aww. Of course, you are. Because that's the kind of person you are, aren't you?” The brunette grabbed your chin with an iron grip, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper before he let you go. “So kind and understanding and willing to look past flaws? Living in your happy little bubble where nothing can touch you?"

Maybe, in some ways, you did live in a rose colored world. Your life was a happy one overall. Bucky shielded you from some of the things he did and the horrors he went through. Was it a means to keep you safe or to keep you blissfully unaware of the darkness of the world?

“Why did you attack me? You mentioned Bucky-”

You shrieked when Maddox kicked the bucket against the wall, his fingers flexing like he wanted to hit something. Damien had a similar look of fury on his face. Kage was the only one who didn’t physically react, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. “Don’t say his fucking name,” he spoke above a whisper, something dangerous in his voice making you shudder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not wanting to anger them any further. Bucky worked hard to make amends for the actions he was forced to carry out, at least the ones you knew about. What was the history with these men? The green octopus on their hoodies briefly flashed in your mind. "If you won't let me go and you don't want money, why bring me here? Why didn't you kill me?"

"Because it isn't your time to die yet,” Damien shrugged.

It was both comforting and fearful that they didn't kill you. By bringing you here, they had some sort of plan. Besides violence, what else were they capable of and what would they do to you in the process?

"Death is a privilege earned through pain. And you need a hell of a lot more before you get there," Maddox chastised as you put on what you hoped was a brave face. Were they going to try and break you? No, you wouldn't let them. "Plus, you’re Damien’s first girlfriend, so we can’t get rid of you just yet."

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, his cheeks red as he glanced at his friend. "I’ve had plenty of girlfriends."

You wondered if he chained them up in dirty rooms like this, but chose not to ask.

"What, in high school?" Maddox chuckled.

"Fuck off. I’m not a teenager!"

As the two of them bickered, Kage continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression on his face. And his eyes? They took on an unnatural shade of blue that sent another shiver down your spine before you blinked, the irises going back to normal. Maybe the light in the cell was playing tricks on you.

His eyes lingered on you still as he addressed the others. "That's enough. Go over the rules."

Damien huffed, but conceded. Kage's words seemed to hold weight for him. "Since we're kind enough to let you stay here until we decide to get rid of you, you’ll do what we tell you."

Meaning, until they decided to kill you. Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you nodded. Maybe if you behaved, you could bide your time and find a way out of this. Or at least hold on until Bucky found you. “What are the rules?”

“So glad you asked,” Maddox smiled. “First rule. You’ll eat three meals a day, whatever we give you, without complaint. You don’t eat it, we’ll shove a fucking tube down your throat. Is that understood?”

You nodded again. You’d eat so you could keep up your strength. It was also better than starving.

“A nod isn’t a good enough answer. Say, ‘yes, Maddox',” he said slowly.

The urge to snap was quickly smothered by fear and uncertainty. “Yes, Maddox.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, a darkness in his eyes that made your skin crawl. “Next rule. You’ll brush your teeth after each meal, but you’re not allowed to keep your toothbrush. Don’t want you trying to use it as a weapon.”

“Why do you want me to brush my teeth?” you couldn’t help but ask. They harmed you and kept chained you in a cell, but cared about your hygiene?

“Because we don’t want your teeth to rot," Damien answered, a wide smile on his face. "If you lose them, it'll be because we knocked them out or pulled them out.”

You refused to throw up in front of them, but you were pretty close as your stomach lurched. These men were sick, but they wouldn't have those smiles on their faces once Bucky got his hands on them. "Brush my teeth after each meal and give the toothbrush back when I'm done."

"Like a fucking parrot. So proud," Maddox muttered, holding up three fingers as you hung your head. Did they have to be so rude? "Rule three. Don't lay in bed all day, Get up, walk around, stretch. Just because you aren’t allowed to leave this room doesn’t mean you can be lazy while we work.”

You wished you were working. You longed to be at your computer, bringing your visions to life. Maybe you could piece together the damage they had done once you were free and pick up where you left off.

"I'll walk around," you said, wondering how long your feet would take to heal.

“And rule four. You don’t give us the silent treatment," Damien said, narrowing his eyes. "If we ask you a question or initiate a conversation, you're expected to answer. You don't get to ignore us after we let you live."

Did they think you owed them something for not killing you? That it was a privilege for you to live? "I'll talk," you said, only if you had to. "What happens if I break a rule?"

"We'll punish you," Maddox smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement as you shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Please, break a rule."

"We'll go over punishments later," Kage said, checking the time on his watch. "We need to feed her. Let's go."

You got unsteadily to your feet as they moved toward the door, attempting one last plea. "Please, let me go," you begged, immediately regretting your words when three pairs of eyes glared in your direction. You couldn't take it back, but you couldn’t stop either. “Bu- My boyfriend will come looking for me if you don’t. He'll get me out of here.”

All you wanted to do was go home.

“We’re counting on him to look for you,” Damien smiled.

“One last rule for now,” Kage added as Maddox walked toward you with a scowl. “Don’t say his name or ever ask to go back to him.”

Before you could back away, the brunette deliberately stepped on your foot. If that wasn't bad enough, he pushed a finger against your stitched shoulder. A wounded sound left your mouth as searing pain shot up and down your arm and leg. You were barely able to make out his face as black spots danced in front of your eyes.

"Order comes through pain," he said, pressing his boot in more as you sucked in a breath. He released your foot seconds later and harshly shoved you to the bed as your chest heaved. "You better get used to it."

"Kage just changed her bandages before she woke up," Damian snapped when you gripped your shoulder, your body still shaking a little.

"Oh, boohoo. She can lick up any of the blood she spills. She'll need the hydration," Maddox said before the cell door slammed shut, their footsteps fading into nothing.

Reaching for Bucky's dog tags around your neck for comfort, something to remind you that you weren't alone, you remembered they were gone. They took them from you. The floodgates opened, soaking the sheet with your tears. Your captors terrified you and you couldn't figure out their angle. They had an issue with Bucky, but hadn't asked any questions about him or the Avengers. They hadn't tortured you for any kind of information. What could you as a civilian tell them anyway?

What did they want?

I'll hold on, Bucky. I'll try and be strong for you.

Your boyfriend would find you. He wouldn't give up until he did. But it didn't stop you from crying in your cold cell. And it didn't stop the blinking red light in the corner capturing it all, documenting the next chapter of your nightmare.

Our poor reader. More to come soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

#navybrat writes #ambswrites #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #omc x reader #omc x female reader #omc x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #collaborative writing #dark fic #james buchanan barnes

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sweetestdesire · 1 year

Note

Reader on her knees for Rafe please and thank you.

I know it will ruin us in the best ways!

ENVY’S A BITCH

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, degrading speech, mentions of cheating, spit kink, face slapping. possessive behavior, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Kook!Reader’s flirtations with a certain Pogue angers her boyfriend, Rafe Cameron.

Y/N knew that Rafe was angry even before he spoke. Even before he looked at her. The muscles in his jaw flexed and he seethed, his energy washing over her like a bucket of hot water. The silence in the room was so complete that it hummed, where normally the home was filled with joyful noise when her man walked in.

She stood and crossed over to him, gently resting her fingers across his warm chest, feeling his angry, pounding heartbeat as she rose onto her toes to press a cautious kiss to his tense jaw.

"Welcome home, baby. How was your day?" She asked in as casual a voice as she could muster.

"I spoke with JJ at the Island Club today." Rafe said, turning away and sliding his jacket off his shoulders.

In that moment, when fear and dread climbed like bile in her throat, she noticed that he had never looked so beautiful. He loomed over her, fingertips barely brushing over her inner wrists, and she took a step back with a nervous stammer.

JJ Maybank had been in love with her for years. Constantly, she denied him, over and over again. Her feelings were strong towards Rafe and those feelings would never fade away, especially over somebody like JJ. But he was always there, flattering her, flirting with her. Some might go to an extent to say that he's completely obsessed with her. Everybody in the Outer Banks knew that Y/N was completely off limits, Rafe made sure of that. But JJ turned a blind eye over the fact that she was taken and continued to be absolutely relentless.

"Oh." Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She took another step back and Rafe followed, guiding her until she reached the corner and could no longer escape.

"Going somewhere?" He teased and moved in close, tenderly taking her left wrist in his right hand and gently lifting it over her head to pin it against the wall, eliciting a soft sound from Y/N. He held her there and gazed into her eyes for a moment, and her heart skipped another beat.

"What did he say?" Y/N asked, her voice small.

“I think you know." Rafe said. His voice was quiet, almost tremulous.

"I love you." Y/N whispered.

"You kissed him."

"He was being so insistent, Rafe. I thought it might satisfy him enough to let it go for a while."

The pain in his eyes hardened into anger. "Don't lie to me. Everyone saw you. Making a damn fool out of me, flirting with that filthy Pogue for the whole fucking island to see. You think I don't know what a tease you are? I, of all people, should know how much you love to get guys hard just to laugh it off like a joke."

Y/N shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. He had never been angry at her before, and the ice in his words frightened her to the bone.

"Did you enjoy kissing him?"

"No."

Suddenly, she felt a stinging slap against her cheek and the sound of it rang through the silent room. She raised a hand to her cheek, in shock more than pain.

"How can I touch you now? Knowing he's had his hands on you. Knowing you let him put his filthy hands on you?"

"I'm so sorry, Rafe." She whispered, shakily.

"That doesn't answer my question. How can I touch you? You know how much I fucking hate JJ, and yet you let yourself be flattered by him. Him of all people, Y/N. He should be thanking whatever God he believes in that he's even alive after the shit he told me today."

She was silent for a moment, as she feared that he might leave her over this. Rafe took a sharp, deep breath before speaking again.

"You were so pleased about being wanted that you let it go on. Have I failed to make you feel wanted? Have you ever doubted me?"

Y/N looked down to the floor, avoiding eye contact. It was true. What he said was true. She couldn't bear the betrayal in his voice. He grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. His own eyes were a shade darker, shimmering with restrained tears.

"Well?" Rafe whispered, his grip on her chin still so fierce. She always knew he was strong, but she had never felt it first hand before.

Her cheeks burned where he had struck her and she was surprised by the growing heat low in her stomach and between her legs. Rafe was dangerous, blind with jealousy and possessive anger. He was driven to madness over his love of her. Her heart swelled.

"Rafe, I was just…" Y/N tried to muster, but she got caught on her own tongue.

"Just remembering that you're mine." Rafe answered for her and pressed his lips to her exposed neck. He kept the kiss soft and breathed in her intoxicating scent as she shuddered again and arched a little toward him.

"Yes." Y/N breathed out softly, eyes wide and slightly glazed.

Rafe smirked and traced his fingertips down her left arm to caress her cheek, raising up to loom over her and stare down into her beautiful eyes.

“You’re mine.” He whispered. "You can't escape me, sweetheart."

Y/N’s cheeks burned and she knew that they must be completely red now. Her eyes widened again and she could feel that her pulse hammered visibly in her neck.

Rafe swallowed his growing hunger and took a half step back. She struggled to breathe as he stared down into her eyes and slowly unbuttoned her blouse from the top down, exposing more and more of her skin. Her body tensed with each button and her breasts quivered in anticipation.

As the last button slipped free, Rafe guided the blouse open to bare her stomach and black lace bra to the cool air. His eyes never left hers until he took a step back and purposefully dragged his gaze down her body, drinking in the luscious sight. He smiled and nodded in approval as she remained still while he looked upon her.

Finally, Rafe stepped forward once more and reached up to take her wrists in his hands again, slowly lowering them to her sides as he leaned in to softly press his lips to hers in the smallest hint of a kiss. Y/N shivered lightly as he loomed over her again.

"Open your mouth, and keep it open until I say so.” He commanded. “Keep your eyes on me."

Catching her by surprise, Rafe spit right into her open mouth. Her eyes widened in shock when the warmth of his spit hit her tongue, the sweet, salty taste triggering the faintest, but definitely noticed moan.

“If you want to act like a whore, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." Rafe hissed, tightening his grip on her wrists, causing Y/N to shudder and whimper.

The vulnerable sound shifted to a gasp when he stepped back once more and spun her around to face the corner. He lifted his hands to her shoulders and guided her blouse down her arms, stopping with it at the small of her back, keeping her wrists bound to her side.

“Tonight, I’m in control." Rafe said, and pressed his lips to the bared flesh of her shoulder and neck. A light nip sent her head falling back and she mewled again.

"I want to touch you.” Y/N somehow made out, but instinctively kept her wrists at her side.

"You’re being punished, remember? I don't like sharing what's mine." He growled.

Rafe continued to kiss her, his lips moving back down her neck and over her shoulder as he dropped the blouse to the floor and lifted her wrists once again. She pressed her wrists against the wall and moaned as Rafe’s lips moved back and forth over her sensitive skin.

Y/N shuddered when he traced back down her arms and sides to stop on her waist. His hands slid around to the front to unbutton and unzipped her jeans, causing her eyes to widen again as he casually pushed them over her hips and down to join her blouse on the floor.

"Rafe." She breathed.

He stepped back to eye her again, eager to imprint the sight of her body on his mind. He took special note of the lacy, black boyshorts, silky and tight against curves of her hips and ass. Eyes never leaving that amazing view, Rafe reached out and unclasped her bra.

"Turn around."

Y/N could feel the pounding of her heart and flushed an even deeper red. She turned slowly, keenly aware of how precariously her bra draped over her breasts. Rafe looked down into her eyes and met her gaze with a smile. Reaching up to her shoulders, he slowly guided the bra straps down her arms. He leaned forward as he did, kissing her neck and softly sucking on the tender flesh.

Her heart pounded furiously and she couldn't help but arch her hips toward him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed her head falling back. Rafe took full advantage of her offering and nuzzled deeply into her neck. Reaching down, he took her hands in his and pinned them to the wall above her head.

"You belong to me, Y/N." Rafe whispered and pressed his teeth to her skin, slowly biting down as his hips met hers and pinned them to the wall.

The words made Y/N shudder, and she ached to arch her hips again. Her heart raced. Her body writhed as much as the press of his against hers would allow. She grew more and more needy by the second, and the touch of his teeth to her tender neck made her mewl and breathe harshly.

Rafe met her desperate sound with a low growl and rolled his hips into her. He dragged his tongue over her flesh, tasting her surrender, and clenched his jaw. His teeth sunk into her neck, marking his territory.

Y/N moaned and bucked into his body, gasping and writhing against him, the sensation so intense. She could feel her panties becoming soaked. He flinched at her moan, the sound loud but delicious in his ear, and relaxed his jaw. He nuzzled into her neck, softly kissing the pained flesh as the blood rushed back to her skin.

A memory flashed before her eyes of how she'd felt when JJ flirted with her. Beautiful and desired. She remembered how she had liked it. What an idiot she had been. No other man in the world could know her like Rafe did. No one knew how and where and when to touch her to send her into ecstasy.

Rafe began to walk backwards, pulling her with him by her hands. She stumbled with him as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Staring up into her eyes, he kissed all around her navel and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties. She shivered and bit her lower lip, gripping his shoulders tightly, as he slid the panties to the floor.

As soon as the panties dropped, Rafe reached for her wrists, guiding them back to her sides. “I'm not done.” He spoke softly, but the words were heavy with force.

Still looking into her eyes, he bent lower and began kissing over her mound, causing Y/N to whimper and then sharply cry out his name when the tip of his tongue traced down her slit.

"Hands above your head.” Rafe breathed out against her skin, and she instantly complied, raising her hands and lacing her fingers together.

"Shit.” She whimpered again as his tongue stretched lower, dragging over her clit.

Rafe gripped her hips tightly as she cried out his name once more and jerked toward his mouth. He alternated between kissing over her mound and flicking his tongue over her clit, never letting her focus on one sensation for long.

Trusting her to keep her hands above her head as she was told, Rafe slid one hand around to sink strong fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. His other hand moved up her chest, closing over her right breast to knead softly. Y/N gasped and trembled against his hold.

"You’re so fucking wet for me, baby. Isn't this all you need?" Her heart leapt at the hint of a satisfied smile in Rafe's tone. Yes, she was. Her body was his, it belonged to him.

"Yes." Y/N breathed.

Rafe’s nostrils flared as her scent flooded the room. He ducked his head lower, lapping at the juices coating her lips, moaning hungrily.

"Please, Rafe. I need you so bad." She cried.

He jerked at her cry and pushed her back away from him. Taking a calming breath, he stood before her, body so impossibly close to hers. Rafe stared down into her eyes with barely contained hunger and she stumbled back a step, breathing harshly and mewling almost steadily now. Y/N trembled as he walked around her, his eyes raking over her naked, vulnerable body.

"Get down on your knees." Rafe demanded.

A dangerous smirk danced across his lips. His hand motioned towards her face where it gently caressed her cheek, allowing his thumb to venture into the warm spot between her soft lips.

"You're my devoted little whore, and you do anything I say with a smile on those sweet cock-sucking lips, don't you?"

Y/N nodded, feverishly and with zero hesitation. Her eyes looked up adoringly, and her tongue flicked against the thumb he held between her lips, fighting the urge to completely envelop it with the wetness of her mouth, and suck on it like she wanted to suck on something else.

"On the bed. Now.” Rafe commanded, swiftly removing his thumb away from her quivering mouth. She obeyed, immediately crawling backward onto it.

He watched her go, and began to strip. Down went his shirt, jeans, and finally his boxers. She watched with open lust, her breath catching as each peace of clothing hit the floor.

"I need to touch you.” Y/N whined.

Rafe smiled and walked to the bed. He stood towering over her naked body and she could see the throbbing of his erect cock. She moaned loudly as he took her hand in his and guided it to his thick shaft.

“Go on, then.”

Her fingers instantly wrapped around him and squeezed lightly, stroking along his length up and down, watching Rafe with wide eyes. Her touch was magic, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response. His head rolled back and his hips rocked forward. A surge of pre-cum wet the tip of his cock, dripping over her fingers.

"Fuck, Y/N.” Rafe breathed out.

She couldn't wait any longer. "I need you inside me.” Y/N whispered and rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock. She tightened her grip and stroked faster, the action making her shudder just as much Rafe was. Her hips shifted restlessly on the bed in anticipation.

"And I need inside you.” came the growled reply.

Rafe gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her hand away. In a flash he was on her, pushing her back onto the bed, climbing over her. He dipped his hips between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him, and he locked gazes with her.

"I need inside you," Rafe whispered again, "because you’re mine.” He pinned her hands above her head. "Only mine."

Y/N gasped in shock and bucked her hips up toward his, willing him to enter her. His words made her mewl again and again, and she nodded emphatically, meeting his gaze with wide eyes.

"I'm yours, Rafe.” She murmured and writhed, her heart racing so fast that she could feel her entire body pulsing.

"Again." Rafe adjusted his hips and shifted them forward. His bulbous head parted her lips and began sinking into her, causing her to cry out in shock. He moaned and shuddered, but refused to relent. "Tell me again."

Y/N threw her head back, clenching and arching into him desperately. He filled her so deeply already and she was absolutely gushing with wetness.

“I'm yours.” She exclaimed. "You own me, and I belong to you."

"So sweet." Rafe bucked the last little distance, slamming his cock fully into her and rotating his hips. "So tender." He pulled back slowly and slammed in again. "So utterly and completely mine."

When his hand settled down onto her neck and his thick cock pushed inside of her, she couldn't contain a sob of relief. She felt thoroughly owned, glowing with the thrill of being possessed by a man such as Rafe. He squeezed her neck as he slowly and persistently drove his cock in and out of her.

"You're so tight, so fucking good." Rafe groaned into her ear as he let the pleasure over take him. "JJ only wishes he could fuck you like this, but no one knows how to fuck you the way I can. No one can pleasure you the way I can."

Y/N's legs started to tremble and shake as nothing but whimpers left her lips. She was nearing her release at his words. Her eyes closed, taking in all the pleasure, his touch overpowering her whole body. Her mouth could only form whimpers and moans and she knew this was music to Rafe's ears.

His forehead rested against her temple and he rasped into her ear, his voice gravelly and dark. "Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

"You, Rafe." She repeated the word with every deep thrust that brought her closer to her orgasm.

"That's my girl. You're mine. No one else's. Only I can touch you like this. I'm the only one who can touch you, and fuck you until you only know my name. Do you understand?" Rafe slammed into her, fucking her mercilessly and tightening his grip around her throat.

"Yes." Y/N nodded as her body began trembling as he quickened his pace. Rafe buried his face in her neck, biting again and again, intent on marking her once more.

His teeth were just too much. She couldn't bear any more. Unable to stop the sensations from ripping through her, she screamed out his name again, cumming for him. Rafe tightened his grip on her throat and stared down at her body, wracked in pleasure.

"Good girl." His voice sounded far in the distance despite their closeness, his praise only heightening her climax.

Rafe pressed his forehead to hers, slamming his cock hard into her pussy once more. He planted his full length deep inside her, grinding, and suddenly arched his back with a primal shout, cumming hard and leaving his mark on her cunt. As the near painful pleasure began to subside, he breathlessly found her mouth with his, kissing her hard. His sweat dripped down to her body, leaving yet another mark of his claim upon her.

Pulling away, Rafe rested his head on her breast and she toyed her fingers through his hair. Y/N didn't know what to say. He was always such a gentle lover. She had never known this side of him. When he rolled off of her, but then clutched her to his side in a tight embrace, she began to recognize him again. She nuzzled into his chest, feeling as luxurious and content as a purring cat.

"Never leave me." Rafe whispered against her hair, smoothing a hand over the line of her spine. She was flushed and sweaty, but still so beautiful when she glanced over her bare shoulder at him.

"I'm yours." Y/N said. "Always."

TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @onmykneesforrafe @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @tee-swizzle @pankowperfection @blueicequeen19 @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @infatuatedharleys

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atinystaypixie · 10 months

Note

Can we get more geto!! I love the sweet boyfie geto!! I was wondering if you’d be able to write something with him and reader getting her first tattoo? No pressure if you don’t want to, I just wanted to let you know that I loved the two you have written!! 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you for sending in the ask🥰 I'm really happy to hear you are enjoying💜 I hope you enjoy this i tried my best🧚🏽‍♀️

Y/n would be the one to bring up getting her first tattoo. She'd be laying on Geto's chest for their daily cuddle session, softly tracing his tattoos. She was in love with how the complimented her boyfriend's arm. The work of art mesmerizes her no matter how many times she saw it.

She'd pause in the middle of the pattern she is tracing and quietly speak out, "Sugu, I want one too."

Her soft voice drew his attention but caused him to question what she suddenly wanted. "What's that, doll? What do you want? I'll go get it for you, baby." Him being the boyfriend he is, it caused him to go into alert, ready to go get his girl anything she wanted even if it was the dead of the night.

She smiled at him, heart swelling because her boy was always so sweet to her, "a tattoo, Sugu. I want a tattoo. Your's are so pretty, I want one to match."

Hearing this caused Geto to get happy. He has several tattoos for her already. Her birthday was near his shoulder, the day they met in an infinity sign, and a tiny small bear was hidden in his sleeve that was placed so only his girl could see it when she was close up to him. The bear being the one he gave her when he asked her out and she accepted.

"Are you sure, baby? I'll take you, just want to make sure you really want it. They can hurt, doll." He wanted the best for his girl and didn't want her getting into something she wasn't set on.

"I'm positive, Sugu". He nodded at her words. "Okay, sweet girl. I'll take you. We can go now actually. My friend has a shop and he'll do it."

Y/n knew he had friends, just not exactly what they did with their lives. She got happy at the thought of meeting more of them. Once both of them were ready, they headed to the shop.

The vibe of the building was dark, but welcoming. Holding on to him, the couple walked in to be greeted by a man covered in interesting tattoos. Long hair, silly smile, and eyes brightening at the sight of Geto. "Geto! My friend, have you come to see me finally? It's almost as if you don't love me." The man pouts causing Geto to sigh and ignore his dramatics.

"That's because I don't. This is my girlfriend. She wants a tattoo and you're going to do it." Y/n tugs at his arm silently telling him to not be so rude. Something that has happened before. "Please," he adds with an unsettling smile causing the friend's skin to crawl.

"Of course, Geto. Hi, Geto's girlfriend. I'm Mahito and will do your tattoo." After the awkward exchange, Y/n reveals she wants to surprise Geto and writes her request down on a piece of paper knowing Geto is always in listening range.

Mahito applies numbing cream to her desired area after Y/n convinces Geto to sit right outside the door they left cracked so he can still be close and she can reveal it when finished.

Mahito was precise and finished the work without causing Y/n too much pain. He feared for his life at every wince and sharp breath she took. Geto always checked to make sure his girl wasn't hurt making his heart falter but the girl confirming she was fine made it beat slightly normal again.

After a couple of hours, he was finished. He cleaned the work once more and gave her all the instructions on caring for it. Y/n thanked the man and for doing her work without an appointment. She didn't take note of how the building was eerily tucked away in a dark corner or how they happened to arrive when there were no other clients.

Geto took her home and that's where she revealed the tattoo. It was closer to her left side, near her heartbeat. A heart with needles and thread running threw it sewing his name into it. Geto grinned ear to ear upon seeing the ink on his girl. Heart beaming as he looked upon the tattoo that was the exact same as the one he had on his chest, close to his heartbeat as well.

“I love you, sweet girl”

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

Pixie's Masterlist

Boyfriend! Geto Masterlist

#pixie.sparkly answers #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk geto #geto fluff #geto scenarios #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios

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madhatterbri · 5 months

Text

Knight in Jeans | Hangman A.P.

Summary: Adam comes home after Full Gear.

Author's Note: It's cheesy and I don't care. Lol.

Adam laid on his back in the arena. The bright lights shining on him as if they were exposing him. Exposing the man that she decided to marry for what he really was. A man that couldn't even get revenge for his wife. The very man that lost.

He lost.

Lost to the man that broke into his house and terrorized you. Lost to the man that showed no remorse as you felt unsafe in the place you two built to call home. He tried to piece together what he could have done differently to win. Adam gave it his all. What else could he have possibly done?

🐎

Plane rides home usually lifted his spirits. Flying on an airplane meant he was almost home to see his wife. The very woman that always stood by the door to greet him home. Now he was left with his broken thoughts.

He remembered the way she cried when Adam came home after Swerve broke in. His wife's face crumpled at the sight of him. Fresh tears stained her cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his neck never wanting to let go.

She invited friends to help her sleep at night. A sleepover, she assured him, no one is ever too old for a sleepover. Jealousy gripped him. How he wished he could have been there to comfort her.

He could feel the tears in his eyes. The way his throat closed as he tried to swallow his emotions. He was on the fastest way to travel, but he felt like they were going at a snail's pace.

🐎

Adam wasn't sure what to expect when he unlocked the door. Would she even love him anymore? Love the man that can't keep her safe. Doubts filled his mind. Maybe he shouldn't have come home. The door opened before him.

"Oh, sweetheart," you smiled and cupped his cheeks in your hands. Your eyes shined as they took all of him in. Constant reminders to be gentle with him after his brutal match once you saw his wounds. "I missed you. I am just so afraid to hug you,"

Adam cleared his throat and chuckled dryly. He stepped inside and placed his belongings down. All the pain he felt washed away once you acted the same.

"Come on, I have dinner," you smiled and grabbed his hand. He happily followed you like a puppy.

🐎

The normal routine once he was home drove him mad. You were so normal as if he wasn't the biggest failure on the planet.

"I don't know how you can want me anymore," he whispered. Tensions in the room almost tripled. You figured something was wrong when he barely spoke at dinner and the rest of the evening.

"I think you take care of me fine. Did I say or do something to make you feel that way?" You asked worried you caused him distress. After that match you wanted him as comfortable and happy as possibly. He shook his head.

"No, no, no. It's me," he sighed and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. He winced feeling the effects from Saturday night. "I left you all alone and he came in our house. I lost to him and I couldn't get revenge for what he did to you,"

"You did everything you could. You bled in front of thousands of people. No matter what you are still my knight in jeans," you whispered and cuddled into him. You placed your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. His fingers played with your hair as a smile appeared on his face.

#fanfiction #imagine #aew #angst #hurt/comfort #hangman adam page #adam page x reader #adam page x you

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alexa-fika · 3 months

Note

hey so i really liked your revenge and teasings story and wanted to ask if you could do a part 2 on that. Like when enel finally gets his karma etc

Revenge and policing ( ASL x sister!reader)

A/N Yall this is not a cook, I don’t like it but I had to answer I would delete it within the hour but Lee would have my head if I put a timer on a fic ever again, Im sorry yall, I will do better for you guys

Part 1 y’all listen I COOKED in part one so go check it out

Dividers by @/saradika

The Brothers had wasted no time planning a way to bring Enel his come-upping, as they now found themselves in the park going over the plan once again

Reader Leans against Ace as he tries his best to put a microphoned belt on her from the awkward position

Ace is struggling to put the belt on her, trying his best to get her to stop leaning on him

“You’re making this so much harder,” he grunts

“Im scared,” she mutters

"I know you are, but this is important, okay?" Sabo whispers giving her a quick kiss on the Temple

"Once the belt is on, you just have to make sure Enel confessed to what he did," Zoro, a friend of Luffy from the police force, explained

“That should be easy; he always gloats about it.”

Ace nods in agreement; they were sure to get the confession

"All we have to do is stay calm," he whispers to her

Ace finally manages to secure the belt to her hip and pulls her into his body, rubbing her back to reassure her that everything will turn out fine.

“That applies to you guys. Please don’t jump on the guy, even after we get him. I will not have you guys thrown in jail because of that bastard.”

Luffy and Ace exchange a look as Ace replies,

"No promises."

"Don't worry, we won't; we just want to make him confess his crimes in a normal manner first," Sabo adds

She sighs, knowing that was as close as she would get to a comprise

“Okay, it’s almost two… I think it’s time you guys head out; he should be here any minute.”

“We’ll be in the car, okay? If something happens, we are but a few minutes away,” Sabo says, gently holding her hand as he tells her

She nods, smiling at him as they walk away

Reader waits by the tree near the entrance to the park, waiting for Enel to arrive, the cold wind of winter was already making her shiver a little

Her shivers increase as the man of the hour slowly approaches her

She feels her heartbeat rise as he neared her, doing her best to avoid his gaze and stand as strong and straight as possible to prevent him from picking out how truly nervous she actually was.

“Finally showed your face? you ran away yesterday you damn bitch; you dare run away from your me?”

“I -I’m sorry you told me you didn’t want me there…”

He just laughed at her excuse

“Don’t you dare tell me bullshit like that. I expect you to stay beside me like a good little follower.”

He continues walking towards her

“Besides, I wasn’t done talking to you yet before you cowardly left.”

“You hit me…again”

He just smirks as he reaches her

“And I will do it again; maybe this time I won’t stop until I break every bone in your pathetic little body,” he said, smirking and raising his hand to hit her

She closes her eyes, waiting for the hit, only for her to hear a scream of pain coming from Enel instead and a familiar warmth on her face

She opens her eyes seeing a wall of fire in front of her, quickly recognizing the wall of fire from Ace’s and Sabo’s Mera-Mera fruit

Enel is stunned; Ace is standing in front of her, with Sabo being right behind him with a cold smile on his face.

“Do not touch a single strand of her hair again,” Ace says sternly

“Or what he growls, you can’t touch a hair on me, lest you want that school of yours to pay the price; you think they will believe a bunch of nobodies over me?”

“Are you okay, Reader?” Luffy asks, glancing at her slightly behind his brothers

“Im okay,” she said, taking off her belt

“Hey Enel”

Enel eyes narrow as he tries to calm his raging fury

“What?… What the hell do you want now?”

“Maybe they won’t believe some ‘nobodies,’ but maybe they will believe you,” she said, showing him the hidden mic with a grin

“you fucking bitch… he mutters, his electricity sparking” only to pause at the feel of something touching his head

“Enel, you are under arrest for battery and domestic abuse,” Zoro growls

Once he heard what Zoro said, he burst into laughter

“You have no evidence!”

“I witnessed everything, including you trying to hit her, and she has audio proof of your abuse,” Zoro snaps back, cuffing the self-proclaimed God

“You little who-

His words are quickly interrupted as the oldest of the brothers delivers a swift punch to his face

“Shut up, you’re done for, asshole,” Ace growls

“Hey, he just assaulted me. Are you not going to do anything?! I want to press charges,” Enel screams, glaring at Zoro

“I didn’t see anything,” he says with a smirk, pulling him along to the police car and saying his goodbyes to Luffy on the way

“It’s over…” Reader mutters, letting out a sigh of relief as she throws herself on one of the park’s benches

“you guys actually pulled it off.”

"Yeah, we did," Luffy replies happily with a proud grin

"Enel won't be causing trouble for you anymore, not when he's in jail," Ace adds with a smirk

"Are you sure you're alright?" Sabo asks, concerned, as he joins them

"You're shivering.”

She sniffles, tears flowing down her cheeks

“hah?? Reader?!” Sabo fusses confused

“ I love you guys so much,” she says, pulling them into a hug

“We love you too, baby sis,” Ace replies, hugging back tightly

“You’re family; we’ll do anything for you,” Sabo comments as he joins in the hug with Ace

“We’re happy we were able to help; we only wish we could have done it sooner,” comments Luffy

“No..you were just in time.”

Im sorry y’all, but look forward to more Rayleigh and shakky action, got a request for them, anyone has any suggestions in what the fic could be about?

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #asl x sister!reader #asl trio #asl brothers

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wolven91 · 8 days

Text

Drifting - Part 8

Casper knew there was something wrong straight away, albeit he didn't know what exactly had just happened. He had felt a flare of pain and suddenly his entire chest felt heavy, it didn't feel right. That alone was enough to set his mind racing.

His mind, supported by the software, warned him of the horrific damaged caused by the over-penetrating strike. There was shock, his brain dumped as many chemicals as it thought would help immediately into his own system, but the software listed his problems very neatly, allowing him to prioritise.

His optics clicked as he struggled, it was as if someone had strapped a thick, unyielding, belt across and around his torso, before heaving it as tight as they could possibly make it. His arm lowered, still holding the sword aloft in his victory pose, it's spout of intense heat dying and going out. His hand, still grasping the hilt, touched at his chest, he was still intact, he could see the metal, it's paint was scratched and marred, but he wasn't destroyed.

He wanted to sigh in relief, to breathe, to take in a steadying breath and clear this tightness.

Casper did what he had always done, and breathed deep, only for the vents across his chest, to remain closed. They twitched and sparked, but unlike every time before, where they had opened and flooded his heart with the rich oxygen of the training fields, this time they stayed closed. If Casper's face could contort, show worry, or perhaps fear, it would have. Instead, his optics clicked and whirred, the camera apertures dilating in panic.

He stumbled forward and tried again. 'Steady. Breathe in through the nose.'

The giant pair of intake turbines that sat within his chest, sputtered, and sparked. The connection to the main unit meant they received the order to spin up, to feed the furnace that was sat at the centre of his chest, but they couldn't comply. One of the turbines was outright gone. The majority of it was now scattered in a straight line leading away from the rig, following the path of the super dense round.

The other turbine tried it's best and the blades began to move, but they were sluggish. The metal blades caught and screeched as they scratched debris into the housing of the intake. The devastation of the round hadn't just destroyed internal systems, it had peppered the untouched areas with super-heated fragments that melted and burn holes in a sea of critical parts.

Qik's shot was perfectly landed, exactly right, to cause the whole machine to shutdown safely and eject the pilot. A kill shot. The average machine would be completely disabled. The machine that had just taken her shot, weeks before, was a mere object. It was inert as a rock, simply complicated in makeup. It too, would have fallen over with any other pilot.

But the spirit that drove this thing, that worked as the masterful conductor that led the collection of lifeless parts into movement and action had willed his mind and personality into all things. The amps in the wires pulsed like a heartbeat. The ones and zeros that may have made up the many layers of software may have begun as cold, unfeeling systems, now in fact; *desired* to work as intended. Emotion drove this machine as much as logic did.

The batteries sprung awake, switching from charging to output; the reactor was without O2! 'Turbines! To life!' They screamed.

Turbine Two was KIA and remained silent. The machine would mourn its loss later.

Turbine One was severely wounded, but it's fans could move. It could do its job. The turbine added as much torque to its fans as it could to push past the debris and get the airflow back!

The batteries, working in tandem, broke protocol and devoted more power than normal to the last remaining lifeline. The computerised systems, guided by the pilot's will to live, instantly stepped in and disconnected all the hard locked safety features, overclocking its systems beyond any recommended redline. Dying was not merely turning off, it was the great oblivion. The machine had no desire to turn to off for the final time. It wasn't ready to go yet.

Geckin engineers would be baffled later reading the reports. This machine should have seen the danger in still going and ejected the pilot to safety; away from the potential explosion of a reactor that was online, but without oxygen. But unbeknownst to them, the software was faced with a millennia of survival instincts of the pilot's layered mind. A thousand computer specialists, backed by an army of wet work AIs; couldn't have resisted the sheer force of will from Casper as his mind, dropping into survival instincts and, the lizard, the mammal, and the ape, all demanding his body to live.

His body was the machine, the machine would comply. It *would* live.

Turbine One's fan blades completed a rotation, then a second, and a third before it's RPM began to sore once more! One fan blade was sparking as it caught the casing, but it didn't matter; the 02 intake was climbing!

The vents across the mech's chest slapped open and the exhausts at the back belched an unhealthy-looking plume of black smoke. Casper had power, one lung was collapsed, but he could breathe. He could fight. He turned to the threat he felt like heat across the side of his face. His sensor suite was untouched and knew the exact point of danger.

Qik rose her rig's 'head' up to observe the human's rig stumble forward after taking the hit, just like he was supposed to. But then he straightened, black smoke rising from him, and looked her way. He wasn't supposed to do that. Qik's rig ducked its head and lined up another shot. She'd taken out hundreds of geckin pilots with that exact same shot, the pilot's will to go on didn't matter; the mech should have deactivated and ejected him away. This was the final lesson, this was supposed to be routine.

'Tough bastard.' But Qik kept that thought to herself.

Casper wasn't even thinking at this point, all he could see was red. He was hurt! Injured! There was danger! Run! Fight! Hide! Run! Fight! Hide!

The optics instantly clicked, focusing, and seeing the former ally crouched in the mouth of the hangers, with a giant weapon pointed his way. Red targeting highlights marked her.

Unbidden, the software told his animalistic mind that Qik was pointing a Maestrik 120mm/L61 cannon his way. Despite never seeing this weapon before, Casper knew it was unwieldy, unsuitable for active warzones, with the exception of fortified positions and overwatch operations. She had advantage, side to side movement wouldn't help. It was fully capable of destroying him with a single round, regardless of the ammunition loaded. There was no hiding, not even going to ground could protect him from what was pointed at him. There was no retreat. There was no hiding.

All this information was instantly provided and understood by the three layers of the human's brain before the lopeljack could prepare the next shot.

"Fight!" The Ape, The Mammal and The Lizard, all screamed in unison. The machine obeyed.

His mech launched forwards at the threat.

Turbine One on its own couldn't feed enough O2 into the boosters to bring him closer to the danger in time, the calculations all declared he would fail. With the safeguards gone however, the software whispered that he had a chance... The reactor was willed into overdrive, spinning it up to maximum output, damning the consequences. The rods inside would eventually melt through the metal housing, but it would give him the edge! The boosters on Casper's back, usually gave off a lovey blue and white jet that burnt clean when it activated, but the flames that spewed out now, pushing his speed past what was possible on his own, was a dirty yellow, smoke and smog billowing out as a trail before it began to slowly change to blue in colour as the core temperature began to cascade upwards.

Qik was ready now, as Casper closed the distance. His rig raised the metal shield still bolted to his arm up, to protect his body, all the while the top of his recon unit's casing poked over the top; his optics never once leaving her.

'A good hunter's eyes never wander...' She mused.

The barrel roared and the entire atmosphere in the hanger warped and hiccupped as the force and concussive blast of the gun sent anything not firmly nailed down, flying. The round travelled the short distance in less than a blink. The world was moving in slow motion for Casper, so his optics saw the point of the spinning round as it destroyed one half of his reconnaissance unit. The round whistled into the distance, destroying several banks of dirt before eventually burying itself into the dirt. The rig flinched with the force of the shot, turning with the resulting air vortex of the round, but it was only a moment's distraction before the tiny red dot in the centre of the optic's aperture locked onto to Qik once more.

Cold. Dispassionate. Casper kept going.

Catastrophic damage was registered across his face, he'd lost radio, sensors and lidar, but the enemy was in front of him, he had committed and considered nothing else now. He cocked his arm, aligning the sword's hilt over the top of his shield to plunge it into the enemy's chest as soon as she was in range. He just needed a few more seconds.

The third and final shell tore Casper in half.

The vortex the shell created, added to the damage done by the round to the mech's midsection, disconnected both legs and sent the torso falling forwards, rolling into the dirt. A moment later, a small armoured circular aperture opened, and a tiny, human sized sarcophagus was fired into the sky, away from the unit's corpse. The reactor ignited and the mech began to burn and melt. It would continue to do so for several hours before it eventually laid there as a ruined husk into the night.

To Casper, he didn't feel the damage that 'killed' him, but he felt what it was like for his soul to be torn from his body. Like a crustation or arachnid, he felt his arms and legs be pulled from within the mech's limbs, shedding them like an old moult. He was pulled up, gathered into a tiny pathetic ball, and thrown from the back of the mech into the sky before he was deadened to the sensations of the world once more and thrust into the void. It was a mental trauma unlike anything else, Casper *knew* what it was like to die in violence now and for his very soul to be ripped from its home.

In the void, Casper wailed. Screaming into the nothingness at the awful sensations that he had just been forced through. He only stopped when he felt the exhaustion of the recent events catch up to him.

== 0 ==

Wren watched the pilot sarcophagus with disconnected professionalism. The engineering crew were well trained and moved with purpose and fluidity. The seal popped and the biological team stepped up. One of theirs stepped down into the casket and hooked two fabric loops under something out of Wren's sight. The geckin doctor knew it would be the human's arms.

At a curt hand signal to the crane operator, the human was lifted from the coffin-like structure, limp and unmoving. His body was slick with sweat and the room stank of his odour. It always did. Wren had hidden her disgust the first few times, but once she realised that the human was barely even conscious when he was retrieved from the mech, she'd stopped trying. He was lowered and gracelessly placed onto a gurney next to her. At least he hadn't vomited on himself this time. It wasn't that she cared for him, it just smelt even worse.

Wren knew other species felt emotions differently to geckins, she was a biologist after all, knowing how they thought was how they were winning the ongoing war with the ssypno. So, with 'Casper', she had adopted the persona of a care giver. It was a fairly easy act to pull off, she 'cooed' and 'fussed' over the human to ensure his cooperation, but that was no longer needed. He was obviously addicted to the Full Submersion Control, but its effects were lasting for the human. It took him time to recover where he was disoriented. Not to mention he was no longer property under the control of the geckin people. Damn that lopel for poisoning her hard work. Zeet had genuinely cared for the creature, thrilled to have found a worthy pilot for his life's work. Wren just wanted to peel back his skull and see how to recreate his strengths.

Now she was frustratingly obligated to tick the boxes to protect the geckin people. Mostly from the ire of the GC, should they ask what welfare checks they had put in place and attempt to accuse them of damaging the rarest species if all this went the way they expected. For all their faults, they would claim their tails should the geckins be found wanting in this regard. Falling out of their graces would do no good for keeping ssypno aggression in check.

"Sit him up." She ordered, stepping up the creature. Her research had come on leaps and bounds. The idea of near zero drift was unheard of and very, very interesting to the geckin private sector that paid for Wren's research. The geckin government had stepped away and had stopped protecting him now that the human was destined to no longer be their problem.

Wren sneered in uncovered disgust as she looked him over. Its flesh was clammy and pale, lacking the protection or brilliance of scales. When it had arrived, its flesh was pinkish brown. There were sections and areas where he was outright pale, obviously the skin was always covered by clothing in these areas, but now his skin was uniformly ashen, nearly grey throughout.

"Touch your fingers." She ordered curtly, raising her voice and getting a reaction from the creature. More of a flinch than acknowledgment. He didn't comply at first, his eyes, dull now, searching the room before finding her. She raised her arms and effortlessly touched her fingertips to her thumbs in a series, prompting him. She didn't like how his lips looked damaged, as if he'd been chewing them. Normal? Or a side effect?

"Touch your fingers." She instructed again, bored of this already. Her claws clacked against each other, giving a 'tik, tik, tik' sound that felt loud in the hanger bay.

The human complied, slowly raising his hands which both shook violently, as if he were shivering. It was slow at first. The task was to touch his thumb to the tips of each of his fingertips in a row, then back. He missed or made a fist at first before slowly coming back to his real body. It was as if they were training a pilot inside a mech, but the other way around. After a minute or so, he succeeded, Wren wasted no time.

"Touch your toes."

This one he did right away. She used to make him stand up and stretch, without bending his knees to touch his toes. Now he merely folded them at the knee while he sat there and brushed his hand against any part of his foot that he could reach. Good enough to her; instructions didn't say not to bend his knees.

"You're fine, get food and rest. No piloting tomorrow." More than enough medical care to appease a board. How 'kind' of her to prevent him from piloting for his welfare.

The human nodded, before shuffling towards the edge of the gurney and gingerly touching his toes to the floor. As he left, his gait was like a corpse that had come back to life, shuffling and lurching from one leg to the other. He wrapped his arms around himself and almost fell forwards, away from the geckins. He now walked as the geckin biological community had expected his gait when they had heard there was a biped species without a tail. Wren had turned back to her notes before Casper had left the hanger, before eventually disappearing from sight.

Wren merely sighed, already dismissing him from her mind. She'd like to get access to his brain before any long-term damage or even sudden damage occurred to it. But she'd settle for the plan offered by her benefactors. Either way, she'd get to play with that brain once it was in her lab, she often won these games if she just remained patient.

== 0 ==

"Casper?" Asked a voice, causing the formley lone occupant of the corridor to blink. He had been slumped against a wall, still standing, but gathering his strength. The haggard young man turned and looked back the way he had come, to now find the lopel mercenary, Qik standing there. He frowned, unsure if she was actually in the corridor with him, and reached out a hand to ensure she was real. She raised her own hand and caught his with ease.

"Hey Qik, sorry, I was daydreaming." Casper murmured before pulling his hand back before she caught the tremor that wouldn't stop. His skin physically ached where the soft pads of her hands had touched him.

"Sounds fun. Shall we get you to your quarters?" She asked, tilting her head, and watching him curiously. Casper merely nodded and made a concerted effort to walk with his back straight and steady rhythm to where his door waited for him. He touched the back of his hand to the sensor and the door slid aside with a hiss.

He stepped in, holding back a sigh until he was alone but was surprised when Qik followed without waiting for an invitation. He released his sigh and merely keyed the door shut behind her, too tired to protest. Ignoring her, he began to walk over to his bed, fully intending on falling into it until he woke up again. Qik's words caused him to pause and turn to look at her.

"I'm sorry I shot you." Qik started, feeling oddly guilty. "I'm sorry I shot you multiple times..." She added after a moment's consideration. She was a mercenary; he was hardly the first person she had shot. She hadn't even hurt him. But she felt... guilt. She knew that he felt truly connected to his rigs, whatever configuration they were. She didn't like to think whether he felt anything more than damage reports.

The human shrugged, his eyes were sunken, darkened and bruised as if he'd been hit in the face. He looked bone tired, smelt ill and his clothes, the human made tshirt he had arrived in that he wore now, hung off him. He'd lost weight. More then that, he'd stopped caring for himself and the geckin were obviously not offering that support either. They wouldn't now he'd played his hand and burnt bridges to leave.

"You're not having something to eat?" She asked, noting the pile of mess in his kitchen area.

"I'm not hungry." Casper explained simply, before going silent. With nothing more to say, he merely turned, shuffled again towards the oversized bed and physically collapsed into it. Clothes and all.

Qik blinked.

She was a mercenary of renown. The only reason she'd been stuck here for so long was because she was a lopel of her word, she'd signed a contract and would not leave until she completed that. It was a lifetime of work to gain a reputation of professionalism, but all it took was one bad contract and all that could be shaken. For her to be free once more, she just needed the next fight. She didn't *need* the human.

However.

In all her time as a mercenary, she'd seen many different types of pilots. Some were disconnected and professional about their work. Others were passionate, taking each contract as a bet against their own pride or skill. Not to mention the whole spectrum between.

So Qik had seen pilots like Casper before, they were the ones who had got into the trade for the wrong reasons. Money, Fear, Fleeing justice. It didn't matter, they were without hope and slowly wasted away. The lopel wasn't blind, she could see and hear just how animated the human became inside his rig. How withdrawn he was without it. He was addicted. It was obvious and should be obvious to him too.

But no one had explained about the seduction of the machine to him. No one had taken them under their wing, to explain that he had to care for himself. To know there was more than just the machine or eventually he wouldn't be able to pilot anything again. She was training him, yes, but did that mean that he was her responsibility? She didn't want an apprentice. She had just needed a way of salvaging her reputation from when he had first piloted a mech and fluked a draw.

She closed her eyes and sighed, turning her arm over and running two fingers over the bald circle on her inner forearm. It was one of the ports where she connected to her own rig. No one had taught her anything, she'd learnt it all the hard way.

But... she had to admit... She would have liked it if someone to have given a shit about her when she had started out...

Without a word, she left the main room to find the bathroom unit off to one side. As she fiddled with the dials, the large tub began to fill with hot water that steamed in the cold air of the living space. The console would handle the filling and dispensing of cleaning products into the fresh water.

As she watched the water rise, Qik considered how ace pilots often felt powerful inside a mech. They felt invincible. It *was* addictive. With their low drift, it meant there were very few reminders that the machine was not the ace's body. It was only the hiccups and delayed orders that brought pilots back to reality. The rigs were as dangerous to the enemy as they were to themselves.

As the tub filled, Qik strode over to the kitchen, where a pile of half-eaten high-nutrient slurry trays lay discarded. It only took her a few minutes, but she binned it all and filled a fresh bowl, warming it until it was piping hot. The slurry wasn't great, the appearance was of a lumpy mush and the taste was about the same. But if Casper ate two trays per day, he'd maintain his weight. If she could get three in him, he might actually gain something back onto his bones. The human was far too thin, no way was he an example of a 'healthy' human right now.

The bathroom unit pinged and one of the lopeljack's ears twitched. The bath was ready and an appropriate temperature.

Casper was so far gone that he barely woke as Qik rolled him gently onto his back. She removed his clothes with careful, respectful hands before slipping her arms beneath his knees and around his shoulders. He weighed nothing to her. He wasn't as small as a geckin, far from it, but even with her limited knowledge, he shouldn't be this light.

Walking the short distance, without his shirt, she paid attention to his body. She analysed it, like a doctor or field medic, dispassionate to his nudity. His ribs were well defined through the skin, and his collarbone stretched the thin looking skin taut. He looked like a refugee.

She shook her head as she gently lowered him into the steaming water, careful not to shock him or jostle him too much. His body jerked at the touch of water, and pale blue eyes cracked open, his head lolling limply against her arm as she settled him in the water. One hand never left him as she grabbed a washcloth and applied soap, before beginning to gently wash his body.

"...What... What are you doing?"

"I'm looking after you." She explained carefully. She used short, clear sentences, loud and curt enough to hear him, but softened the usual edge to her voice.

"I'm.. f-fine." He mumbled, trying to assure her he didn't need effort on his part.

"You don't look fine Casper, does anything hurt?" She asked, paying attention to dark splotches that created odd patches on his back. It could be bruising from when the pilot sarcophagus came back down to earth after being ejected from the rig. She asked her question and deliberately ran the cloth over these patches, noticing the flinch in the human's body.

"That... that uh..." He murmured, still very much confused and muddled, his voice went up an octave, wincing again. If Qik didn't miss her guess, she suspected he was in shock.

"A bit tender?" She asked softly.

"Uh huh." He mumbled, nodding his head jerkily. She let him sit back against the edge of the bath and began washing down his arms.

"Is there anything else that's bothering you? Anything else you can tell me about Casper?" She asked again, using his name to bring him back.

"My skin... hurts..." He admitted, blinking back tears, his eyes, already bloodshot, now swimming.

"It's the Nerve-Suit, the water will help it pass Casper, you're doing great. We just need to get you clean, okay?" She assured him, gently wiping over his chest, then continuing down his other arm.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"You shot me... I... Don't... Didn't..." He was confused, in shock, did he think she had hit him because he had angered her?

"It's okay Casper. It wasn't your fault; you did everything correctly. It was just the final lesson, to teach you the limits of your mech, to know that you can't let your guard down. To know..." She looked into his eyes before she finished her sentence. She was gladdened to see that his eyes were awake... and aware. She blinked and gave him a rueful smile.

"To know you're not invincible." She finished, touching a warm, wet paw to his cheek. Touching him, reminding him that he could feel things. Casper sighed and closed his eyes, his hand reaching up and gingerly hold the back of her hand. They stayed there for a moment, Qik not rushing him in any way.

Eventually, he reached for the cloth.

"I'll... finish..." He explained, before adding "I needed this I think."

Qik just gave a knowing smirk.

"'You think'?" She snorted. "Don't doubt me if I tell you to do something. Deal?" Demanded the lopel as she relinquished the cloth to the human's hands. In the brief moment that they touched her hand, she felt the warmth in his skin again. The cold clammy feeling of his skin, no more. He still looked sickly however, and the cheekbones that dominated his face told her of what else he needed.

"Deal." The human said, squeezing the cloth and began washing himself, seemingly losing the self-conscious taboo that had held sway over him whenever they got changed together. Qik stood and left the bathroom, striding over to the kitchen and retrieving the slurry bowl. She picked up a spoon and returned. The human glanced up, his eyes flicking to the bowl and grimaced.

"Oh, come o-..." He began, but the merc was having none of it.

"You will eat." Qik declared. The young man's shoulders sagged, and he nodded, briefly running the wash cloth down his legs.

Qik folded herself down, dipping the spoon into the white and pinkish goop, before offering it to him.

"This is embarrassing." Casper bemoaned before having the spoon ladle the mixture onto his tongue where he didn't need to chew before swallowing. They repeated these three or four times whilst Qik replied.

"Then it's a lesson. Feed yourself after each deployment and I don't need to do this. Every time you don't; either me or someone from our company will do it." She grinned wickedly. "Can't wait to see some of the guys playing 'here comes the draconian' with you." She teased, knowing that it was not an idle threat, even if he didn't know yet.

"I'll eat. I promise I'll eat." Casper swore around a mouthful before swallowing again. "How come I've... wasted away like this?" His hands gestured to himself, the tendons standing proud. She considered her words before explaining.

"Ignoring you not eating, FSC is intensive. Your brain is working full time to control every single subsystem of the rig. Brains are hungry. Lack of any food and it'll eat away at you instead." Qik pointed out succinctly.

"How come you don't look like this then?" Casper asked, while Qik noticed his wandering eyes. She wasn't annoyed.

"I'm a career girl. I look after myself. I exercise, I eat, I get sunlight. All mechs, all the time? That's a fast track to being a husk. Plus, it's a shallower slope for us lopels to slip down." She added at the end, spoon finally hitting the bottom of the bowl as she continued to feed Casper, despite him having both hands free again. The water was a different colour now... The filth and grime finally removed from him.

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"It's all about your drift. You could out manoeuvre me, quite easily. Sure, my training might give me an edge, but you've got that beginner's chaos, trained pilots won't know how to handle you, you make choices that aren't normal. The lack of drift means your brain is handling more, however. Less drift, more intense the usage. I have about one, maybe two percent drift. As long as I take breaks, look after myself, eat my veggies; I'll keep myself looking fine." She said, putting the empty bowl to one side. It was only mild, but she felt that he had gained a bit of colour in his cheeks.

Casper sloshed the water as he brought his hand up to look at his fingers. The water was beginning to prune them. He touched his thumb to his fingertips in series, then did it the other way. Perfect each time.

He felt... human again.

"Since you're pretty much done with training now, we need to think of your callsign." The lopel who was still crouched next to him said nonchalantly. She was currently resting her arms on the edge of the bath, still sat on the floor, with her chin resting on her arms as she watched him.

"My callsign?"

"New Guy doesn't really inspire 'fear', does it?" She asked. Casper blinked and realised that she was talking sense, again. He'd need something, a name that connects to him personally. He thought of what he knew of callsigns and decided he needed a 'cool' one.

"Maverick?" He offered.

"*No*." The rabbit-like alien snapped. "There's like a million 'Mavericks' and they're all assholes." Qik immediately retorted, shooting that idea down rather rapidly. Casper sighed and grimaced at the water again, it was actually gross, now that he thought about it.

"I think I need to get out."

"Mm, water's gone bad." Qik agreed, standing and grabbing a towel. The large cut of fabric was designed for larger species than the geckins, the whole living quarters were, but seemingly for something just a bit bigger than a human. Like a lopeljack. The lopel grinned and looked away, holding the towel out as a makeshift curtain as the human stepped from the bath, intending on grabbing the towel from her.

Instead, the lopel grabbed the human into the towel, covering him briefly, spinning him in place, before escaping into the living area, laughing at the human's indignant squawk.

Casper freed himself and glared at the retreating short, stumpy, white fluffy tail of the lopel and had to consider it was a nice view. Turning to the bathroom counter, above the sinks was a mirror that reflected everything. There was a pale monster in the room with him.

Casper, blinking, focused and realised the creature was *him*. He was truly pale and gaunt. He'd known that he'd lost weight over his training, but this was dramatic. He looked sick. He looked *dead*.

"I really do look like a ghost..." He agreed to no one.

"What's a 'ghost'?" Called Qik, doing *something* in the other room. Running water and clinking gave the man hints.

"Uh.. A ghost, a spectre. The dead with unfinished business. They're usually really pale; you can't always see them. They can be friendly, or they can be pretty nasty. We got kid's tales and horror stories of all kinds with ghosts." He explained, leaning forwards and pulling the darkened flesh around his eyes taut, feeling how thin it felt.

Qik's head appeared around the doorframe in the mirror, pulling his attention.

"Perfect. You're 'Spectre' then." The head disappeared immediately, leaving Casper frowning before whipping his around to stare at the empty space incredulously.

"Excuse me?" The young man demanded, feeling energy diffuse him like no meal or sleep could.

"Would you prefer the callsign; Ghost?"

"Aw man, that's too on the nose! My name is *Casper* for Christ's sake!"

"And 'Maverick' the single most overused callsign was a better idea? Nah, I'm your sponsor into the company, I'm registering you as either 'Spectre' or 'Ghost'."

"For fucks sake." Casper groaned, leaving the bathroom to find the lopel had tided the kitchen very neatly, and was now flicking the heavy blanket out, neatening it and preparing the bed.

"Come on. Bed. I don't know about you, but I'm tired." She ordered, merely tilting her head..

"Together?" The young man asked, glancing from the bed to the merc.

"Yes. My place is on the other side of the complex because they didn't trust that I wouldn't kill you in your sleep for breaking my mech first time round." She explained as if explaining something simple or obvious. Casper merely blinked and stared.

"Is that true?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, I got bored when they were building your second rig and broke into the offices." She remembered with a grin, placing a fist on her hip. "Read their comments that they were worried I'd end you, but those files prove that they got their dirty little claws into all sorts of devious shit." Qik explained in a false hushed whisper.

Casper walked over and at her urging clambered into the bed first as she continued.

"Honestly, I can't wait to get out of here, I think you'll do better away as well. We just gotta' play smart." She explained, crowding him by swinging a leg under the covers and using her wide hips to bounce him further into the covers. The lopeljack was certainly bottom heavy, whilst her top half was muscled, her hips and thighs were exaggerated, but not unpleasant to look at from Casper's perspective.

Now they shared his bed.

He lay there for a time as the lights winked out and stayed dead still, facing the ceiling with his hands resting on his stomach, over the covers. He wasn't expecting a visitor, nor for the lopel to ever enter his bed. Whilst the young man felt a thousand times better than he did before getting home, he was now more confused than when he had been freshly pulled from the pilot's casket.

There was the sound of movement to his left and he felt the mattress warp as Qik turned over.

"Turn away from me." She instructed. Unthinking, he complied, turning to his right and facing the wall, more confused than embarrassed now.

A silky soft, muscular furry arm, snaked underneath his head, whilst a large warm body shuffled and pressed into his back. A lopeljack was taller than a human, reaching nine feet with ease, and hitting ten or even eleven if one included the ears. Her knees easily pressed into the back of his own as he was scooped into her hug and her other arm came round and over to hold him in place.

"What are-" He started, but Qik was ready.

"I can't sleep unless im hugging a pillow. Yours are too small, and I left mine at mine, so you'll have to do." She explained, her short muzzle working its way in and against the short, buzz cut of his head. She gently rubbed her face against him before settling.

"We're..." Casper began, but didn't know where the sentence was going. Noticing his hesitance, Qik settled matters.

"We're all snuggled, like two rounds in a mag. Don't think about it... just relax..." She whispered, gently squeezing his middle into her.

He laid there for a time, blinking, feeling her chest rise and fall as she laid there. He wanted to panic, to perhaps ask if she was sure? But... he was tired. His eyelids drooped and despite himself jerking awake once or twice, eventually he settled into a sleep that as so deep, even when Qik unintentionally turned over an hour later, dragging him with her; Casper never stirred even once.

Qik placed a finger under his nose to ensure he was still breathing in that moment, but relaxed when her fur ruffled under his breath and then she too, fell asleep.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry #lopeljack #rabbit

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renn-phrs · 2 years

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[𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺]

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ(s) : Haitani Rindou, Haitani Ran, Imaushi Wakasa

previous | next | aftermath

≣ Haitani Rindou

“Rindou-san, when we grow up, let’s get married.”

That’s what you say or at least was. The incident a few months ago greatly impacts you and your surroundings. Everyone thought you were dead when the doctor informed them that you will be in a coma for a long time. But suddenly on a cold day, your mother saw you sitting on the bed looking at the falling snow from the window which almost make her faint as she quickly hugged you and called your other family member. That’s where your fiance was informed with your consciousness. Running as fast as he can to the hospital, leaving abruptly after the crucial meeting he had with his boss.

The tears formed in his eyes as he rushed to the ER when he gets a glimpse of the memories you shared together before and the thoughts of it will be continued. The sound of his heavy footsteps from the hallway gets closer before stopping infront of the room. His heart-hate dropped when he sees your mother and the rest of your family members crying on their knees from the small window on the door. His hand trembled and his eyes watched in horror as his biggest fear comes to life eating every inch of his sanity he had. Rindou’s trembling hand tried to reach out for the handle before pushing it down to open it. The people in the room looked at him before looking away feeling guilt run down their bodies. Rindou’s eyes scanned across the room as he tried to keep calm from the odd behavior they gave him. He slowly makes his way to your bed before smiling at you,

“Sweetheart?” He speaks, hoping what he was thinking wasn’t real as he reaches out his hand to caress your cheeks. But every inch of his body froze when you suddenly dodge his hand and looked at him as if he was a stranger to you that threatened your presence. A sharp pain followed by unsteady heartbeat tearing his heart as a realization hits him when you say the word he never wanted to hear coming from your lips,

“Who are you?”

≣ Haitani Ran

The weather was bad. It’s been raining for the past two days non-stop in the area. No one in Tokyo would go outside, unless for one man who could be seen squatting down as he put the flower bouquet nicely infront of him,

“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t visited you for a while, got a lot of stuff going on right now.” He smiled before caressing the large polished stone where your name was engraved there. His grip on the stone becomes tighter as he felt a sharp pain and waves of tears start to blur his vision. The glimpse of him and you being the happiest couple passes through his memories.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you need me the most. I don’t know how you must feel handling all the pain for yourself," He bites his lips, his heaving breathing, and the cold weather makes him shivers, “I- I, f-fuck I can’t turn back time can I?” Ran sniffles, whipping his tears and snots with his drenched dress suit, trying to hold back from screaming desperately under the rain. But it’s to no avail, he is just a normal human with no sort of power or ability to endure the feeling of pain and agony for the past years. 'It wasn’t his fault' that’s what people said to him. Yet, he keeps taking all the blame for it.

He promises your father to bring happiness to you. Making you the happiest individual you would ever be. But the story of both of you isn’t like the fairy tale your mother once read you before going to sleep. A tragedy, that’s what people say. Nobody could help him after that day. Even his brother, the only family member left that always be beside him couldn’t do anything to make his dearest brother back to his old self. As they say, when a parakeet loses their partner or mate, they will be in great pain for almost their lives. Like a swan that is loyal to their others, never seeks a new partner, until death comes to take their life away as they will be reunited in the other life where they will live for eternity. Ran will keep on living until he found himself on his death bed seeing you reaching out for him to bring him in your arms once again in the realm of eternity.

≣ Imaushi Wakasa

The sounds of beeping coming from the machine accompanied the silence from one of the rooms as a sound of footstep getting closer each second before stopping infront of the room with ER written on it. The door opened revealing the tall skinny boy who is draping his long white coat full of written stuff on it paired with a black set. His hair was messier than usual, His eyes tired eyes scanned the room before dragging the chair beside you,

“Good evening, (Name)-san.” He smiled knowing there will no answer from his dearest one. His eyes trailed to the person infront of him sleeping peacefully as if there wasn’t any soul left in there, only an empty vessel displayed infront of him every single day he visited you in hoping someday things would be different,

“Me and Benkei got in a fight again. I’m sorry,” He softly speaks as he looked down at the bag filled with your favorite food, “I know you said friends shouldn’t fight each other. But, Benkei did it first.” He said nonchalantly before scoffing as he crossed his arms, replying to the event a few hours ago where he was arguing with his ‘friend’ over some ice cream left over in Sano’s place.

“How was your day? I hope everything is good,” He started to speak, trying to break out from the silence that only the beeping from the machine accompany him, “I met the nurses that are taking care of you. They said you are doing good keeping up with everything.”

He fiddled his finger as his feet keep bouncing due to the anxiety risen he felt each second he tried to stop overthinking. He moved his chair closer to you before taking your hand to caress it,

“I don’t know if you will be ever to respond to me but I promise you that I will be always here beside you, waiting for you to wake up after a long time,” He said kissing your hand as he move forward to kiss your forehead, caressing it before putting his head down the side rail as his grips tighter when the feeling of his throat closing up followed by tears streamed down his face. A sound of soft sobbing fills in the room within the sound of the EKG machine making a sorrowful melody as the night become darker each second, leaving the other lovers in great pain as he waited for his other heart to wake up from what he felt like the eternity.

“Please come back to me, please.”

RETURN — ©Reblogs are highly appreciated.

#[♡ ; tr]#[♡ ; works]#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers headcanon #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #ran haitani #rindou haitani #wakasa imaushi #ran x you #rindou x you #wakasa x you #ran x reader #rindou x reader #wakasa x reader

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specialagentlokitty · 1 month

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9th doctor x reader - made for each other

Hello! So, I saw that you wanted requests for the 9th doctor and thought I would jump in cause there are not enough fics for 9. I was thinking something where companion reader is injured and 9 nurses her back to health and during that time they admit their feelings for each other. If that's something you would be interested in. - @padawancat97 💜

You couldn’t really remember what had happened, or how you had ended up so badly injured, but you did remember the sounds of the doctor above you, saying you’ll be alright.

You were crying, hand clutching tightly at your side, breathing heavily as you rested your head on the wall behind you.

The doctor was knelt in front of you, one hand pressed over yours on your side, his other on the side of your face.

“I know… I know sweetheart.. I know…” he whispered.

The doctor took his screwdriver out, scanning your side, and he did something that made you scream in pure agony.

“I’m sorry! It’ll help!”

“Make it stop…” you begged weakly.

The doctor looked at you, and he wiped some of your tears away with his hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I will, I promise I’ll make it all go away…”

The doctor looked behind him, then he turned back to you, running his knuckles along the skin of your cheek, offering you a gentle smile.

“You’re going to be good as new, I promise…”

He looked behind him again, down the hallway to where his TARDIS was, and he looked back you.

“Are you ready for one last run?” He asked softly.

You nervously nodded your head, and he gave you a little grin.

“Of course you are… you always are…”

The doctor placed your arm over his shoulder, his hand pressing tightly on your side.

“Ready…”

He gave a small countdown, and hauled you up which made you cry out in pain and he immediately began to apologise to you.

You both made your way to the TARDIS as fast as you possibly could, the doctor could feel your blood running through his fingers.

He threw the door open, helping you inside and slowly sat you down against the other door.

“I need you to stay awake, okay? Stay awake, keeping looking at me.”

You nodded your head a little bit.

“Good, okay, okay I’ll be right back okay?”

You nodded against.

The doctor ran to the console, his eyes flicking to you, making sure that you were still watching him like he told you to.

He saw your head falling just a little bit.

“(Y/N)?”

The doctor glanced over.

“(Y/N)?!”

He slammed his hand into a button to send the TARDIS into flight and ran back over, taking your face between his hands.

“No, no, no, no, (Y/N)?! Hey! Hey look at me!”

He picked you up, running you through the hallways, finding any suitable room he could set you down in and he came across his room first.

He quickly and carefully laid you down on the bed, throwing things out of his wardrobe until he found whatever he could to help you.

Covering your chest with his quilt he tore you shirt, so he could get better access to your side.

The wound wasn’t deep, but it was big, and still bleeding.

The had the TARDIS scan your heartbeat and use the audio system to let him listen to it, making sure that it sounded normal.

Placing a bandage on your side, the doctor was carefully when it came to covering you back up, and he grabbed a bowl and a cloth, cleaning the blood he had gotten on your face and the blood on your hands.

He didn’t even notice the blood on his hands, or on the floor, he was so focused on you.

Making sure to get every speck of blood from your skin.

The he just laid in the bed next to you, head on his arm, gaze solely fixated on you, running his thumb along your cheek, listening to the sound of your heartbeat throughout the room.

After a few hours of laying there he finally got up to clear the blood from everywhere else, shower, and change his clothes.

He ket the TARDIS in flight, that way nothing was able to get to you, and wherever he went in the TARDIS your heartbeat followed him.

It was almost soothing, hearing your heartbeat wherever he went, but he spent most of his time just laid next to you, watching you.

He kept a close log of everything, the healing rate of your wound, your heart rate every few hours, your temperature, whatever he deemed as important.

He eventually brought the TARDIS to a land a few days later, a quiet planet, away from everything and everyone where he could focus on you.

Finally you woke up while he was at the console, the TARDIS let him know that you were awake and he ran straight to the room.

He came to a near crashing halt in front of the door, stumbling through it as he looked at you.

“(Y/N)!”

He rushed over, scanning you with his screwdriver, looking at the results, then back to you.

“Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Do you need anything?”

He kept rambling questions to you, and you reached up, placing your hand on his arm, getting his attention and he quickly stopped.

“I… water…”

“That I can do!” He grinned.

He ran out of the room again, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of water.

The doctor set it on the floor, and he opened it, then placed his hand on the back of your head to lift it up, helping you take a drink.

He set your head back down, putting the lid back on the bottle before turning to you, kneeling next to the bed and resting his arms on it.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked gently.

“I’m okay…”

He nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry I.. I never thought… I didn’t…”

You smiled, reaching your hand out you placed it on his head, running your fingers down to the side of his face.

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“I should have never taken you there (Y/N), never. You got hurt because of me.”

You moved your hand, lightly flicking his forehead which made him frown, rubbing the sore spot.

“I got hurt because I touched something I shouldn’t have… that’s not your fault doctor…”

He sighed a little bit, resting his chin on his arms.

“I’ll take you back home when you’re better.”

“You better not or I’ll kick your ass.”

He laughed a little bit, smiling softly up at you, and you placed your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You thought for a moment.

“Not yet, I’m kind of tired, but then can we have chips?”

“We can have whatever you want.”

The doctor would bring you food and drinks to your bed, he refused to let you get up for the first few days, he changed your bandage regularly and helped you up if you absolutely needed to get up.

After the first few days you could sit up, you couldn’t walk far on your own, and you couldn’t stretch because you’d pull at your wound.

You were sleeping with your head on his chest, he was running a hand up and down your arm.

“I’m hungry…”

“You’re always hungry. What do you want?”

You turned your head to look up at him.

“Can we get burgers?”

“We sure can.”

He kissed your forehead and gently moved you aside so he could head to the console, and you yawned.

Getting up you grabbed a discarded jumper of his, pulling it over your head, slowly walking over to console.

You took the steps one at a time, hand on your side as if that was going to help the pressure.

“Hey, hey you shouldn’t be walking when the TARDIS is moving.”

He walked over, holding his hands out to you, and you took them, letting him help you down the rest of the steps, and he sat you down.

“It’s dangerous and you could get hurt.”

“Everything is dangerous.”

“I know, but you’re already hurt, I don’t want to make it worse.”

The doctor waited until the TARDIS had fully stopped, then he walked over to you, holding out his hand with a bright smile.

You smiled back softly at him.

“Now, let’s go get you a burger.”

You placed your hand in his, letting him lace his fingers with yours as you guys left the TARDIS.

He gestured to the whole area around you both.

“Pick wherever you’d like.”

The doctor kept a watchful eye on you as you looked around, slowly wondering around, looking for somewhere to eat.

You finally found a McDonald’s and you decided to go there, so the doctor sat you down at a table, and he listened as you told him exactly what you wanted.

You were softly kicking your feet back and forth, head resting on your arms as you waited for him to come back.

You were watching him stand in line, and when he glanced over at you you smiled at him which resulted in him smiling back at you.

He brought the food over, you ate, and decided you wanted to go for a walk, which the doctor agreed to under the strict condition that you two didn’t go to far from the TARDIS.

You happily agreed to this, just content with your hand in his, slowly walking around just taking to him about everything.

Eventually the pain in your side came back, and you stopped walking, placing your hand on his chest to stop him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He whispered.

“It’s my side…”

He nodded his head, and crouched down in front of you, letting you climb onto his back and he stood up again.

“So what should we do? Carry on? Or go back?”

“We should go back, you can’t carry me all night. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Oi! Who says I can’t and don’t want to?” He huffed.

You laughed softly, resting your chin on his shoulder.

The doctor tilted his head to the side, resting it on yours.

“You can’t seriously carry me all night.”

“Is that a challenge? I’ll do it, I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again.”

You laughed, and he grinned a little bit.

“Come on, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care, as long as you’re here it’s alright by me.” You said softly.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

You hummed a little and shrugged.

“Because I like you.”

“Course you do! What’s not to like?” He grinned.

You smiled at him, turning your head so you could kiss his cheek and you went back to whatever where ever he was going.

“Thanks for taking care of me…”

“I’ll always take care of you sweetheart, always, above all else you are my first priority.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I’d be pretty lost without you (Y/N).”

You laughed a little bit, wiggling slightly to let him know that you wanted to be put down, so he carefully set you down.

You walked around him, taking his hands in yours.

“My beautiful, amazing, (Y/N)…” he whispered.

He freed one of his hands, placing it on the side of your face, and you leant into his touch.

“I will always be there to save you… no matter where we are… I’ll always come and find you…”

You smiled.

“I know you will…”

The doctor studied you for a moment, the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly.

He remembered everything else as well, the fact you always hugged him, you always kissed his cheek if you were going away somewhere without him.

You looked at him and you just admired him, you looked at him for who he was, you knew him.

“I love you.” He whispered.

You stared at him in shock.

“What?”

A grin slowly spread across his face.

“I love you. I love you!”

You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and he held you gently.

“I love you too…”

The doctor twirled you both around, then he set you back on the ground, quickly leaning down so he could capture you in a kiss.

A kiss that neither of you would admit that you had both been thinking about for a long, long time

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who imagine #doctor who nine #ninth doctor imagine #ninth doctor #ninth doctor x reader #ninth doctor x you

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honeybadgercomeback · 1 year

Text

No Goodbyes

Goodbyes happen. But sometimes when they do they can become something so much better. You didn’t think that hiding from Daniel would cause this, but with his hand in yours and people trusting and believing in both of you, this is going to become something more than a final race week. Part two of Not Yet Goodbye.

AN: I still can’t fully believe the reaction to Not Yet Goodbye, I’m in absolute shock at how wonderful you all are. Thank you for the support and kindness.

Warnings: McLaren folks, Christian Horner (but being nice?). This is mainly fluff tbh.

—

As soon as the fact that Daniel Ricciardo was holding your hand got through to the garage, things got awkward to put it mildly. There was joking around, but as soon as they could get Daniel away for his final debriefing you were pulled into a meeting. That first meeting with Andreas was almost painful. The team principal had rushed you into his office, Zak following close behind. The two men looked at you in surprise as you held their gazes evenly.

“How long as this been going on?” The CEO asked you. You checked your watch and did some mental maths.

“Around twenty two hours, officially. I didn’t hide anything from anyone and after tonight Daniel no longer works for McLaren Racing. I didn’t need to report anything. You stayed calm despite the heartbeat thundering in your ears.

“If there was anything going on, anything you didn’t want…” the words hung in the air as the implication hit you like a ton of bricks. You shook your head fervently in denial.

“Daniel and I made a mutual decision. I wasn’t forced into anything. I spent last night having dinner with his family.” A deep breath centred you before you continued speaking. “While I appreciate that you’re looking out for me because of a potential power imbalance, it couldn’t be further from the truth. There was no coercion or anything inappropriate. Nothing happened between us until last night because we’re both aware of our jobs and what we do, but thank you. Now it’s the end of the season and my boyfriend is waiting for me so we can go for dinner with his family to celebrate that he was in the points today. Do we still have two weeks off before planning for next year starts?”

Your final question was directed to Zak who nodded in response. “It’s Thanksgiving at home next week, I won’t be in the UK until the first full week of December.”

“Perfect. I’ll be working remotely until then. I need to clear my head from the season, you can reach me by email.”

You held yourself together as you left the room, trying not to shake with frustration as you made your way back to the table you’d nabbed for yourself in hospitality. Normally you’d have never spoken like that to either of them. But this was different. You’d been in the room and watched the awkward moments as Danny had lost some of his sparkle because of everything that had happened. You’d been at the MTC when he made that speech. There was a large group of you who didn’t agree with how things had happened and you’d always been in that group. Yes this relationship was new but your loyalty was always going to be to your boyfriend. Jobs came and went but men like Danny didn’t.

It took all of two minutes to pack your tablet and laptop into the grey and papaya bag when your phone buzzed with a text. Holding your breath you opened it.

That was inappropriate. Once the cargo is gone take the time off, you deserve it.

Thank you.

You couldn’t reply with anything more than that, your frustration was still too high and you didn’t want to snap at him.

“Are you leaving?” You looked over at Danny’s sister, Michelle, standing there with her kids. You smiled at the slightly shy children who waved nervously and nodded your head.

“Finishing packing. I don’t need to be here for the tear down so I like to leave pretty soon after.”

“You’re coming for dinner, right? We’re getting pizzas delivered to his suite. None of us want to go out, it’ll be all family.”

“That sounds really good.”

It was quiet between you while you zipped up your branded bag. Your routine stayed the same, triple checking the pass around your neck was firmly in place and you had everything. Michelle walked out with you, the kids holding her hands before grabbing one of yours too.

“He really likes you, y’know. I was telling him for months to man up and ask you out. But then the break happened and…” she trailed off and it was clear what she thought of everything that had happened with her brother’s career.

“I wouldn’t let him say goodbye.” Michelle looked at you as you spoke, but you kept walking and looking straight ahead. “Yesterday. He was saying goodbye to everyone except Lando and the mechanics, but I kept hiding because I didn’t want to say goodbye. So I get it. And I’ve no intention of hurting him.”

She relaxed as you both swiped out and you helped the kids to do it.

“I’m glad. Want a ride to the hotel?”

You ended up in the back of the rented SUV, jammed between two child seats as the kids settled down. There was casual conversation between you, Michelle, and her husband as he drove back and you felt calm. The season was over. You could relax for a little while. Tonight was about dinner and chatting and later on working out when you and Dan could spend time together that wasn’t just filled with work related things. And getting the details on what he’d be doing next year. Milton Keynes wasn’t as far away from Woking as it could have been. Plus he’d be at races so that made things easier to plan. But this was oh so right and you wanted it.

After a shower to wash away the desert heat and sweat and changing into comfy clothes there was a knock on your bedroom door. Dan stood there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a wide smile on his face.

“Long time no see,” you murmured as you reached up to kiss him in hello. Once you separated he came into the room and put the arrangement on the desk before pulling you in for a proper hug.

“Missed you.”

“It’s been two hours.”

“I still missed you.” He pouted at his words and you kissed it away before filling him in on Zak and Andreas’ words. Anger started to fill his face but he took a breath and squeezed your hand.

“Do people really think that I’m forcing you? Seriously?”

“No. And we both know that this is completely consensual. Anyone with eyes knows that. But we also know that until after the last race there was that power imbalance. They were right to check in, just not the way they did it.” He calmed at your words, pulling you close and kissing the top of your forehead.

“I’m going to Red Bull tomorrow to sign my contract and flying back to Monaco the day after. Will you come with me? I know you can’t be in any of the photos or anything but I want you to be there. Mum and Dad will be.”

You took a deep breath. It’d be more than just your secret or even your colleagues in McLaren knowing then. It’d be known immediately around the paddock and as soon as you arrived in Bahrain for the first race next year everyone would know you were Danny’s girlfriend. But you wanted it. You wanted to be there to support him in whatever way you could.

“Is signing this the best thing for you to do?” It was a simple question and he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“I’m not ok right now. I…I’m burnt out. I’m miserable. Driving these cars isn’t fun anymore, I’m half afraid when I do it. It’s become something I’ve started to dread and if I don’t have full confidence I can’t do it. They’re giving me sim time to help with racing lines, a chance to help develop the car for next year and beyond, and I can be at whatever races I want. Plus it’s Christian. Even when I was leaving and he didn’t want me to go he supported me. He always has. It’s nowhere near a guaranteed seat but it’s a chance to try love the sport again with people who believe in me and want me to succeed.” He looked like he was about to say more but you cut in.

“Then I would be honoured to be there to watch my boyfriend sign his contract. You deserve the world, Danny. You deserve everyone to know that you’re a good driver, that you’re successful and easily able to battle anyone on the track. I want to see that happen.”

The kiss you shared with him was filled with meaning and hope. Even after your lips separated you stayed with your arms wrapped around each other.

“I should have kissed you last year. I nearly did at Monza. Remember the after party?”

You never could have forgotten it, delaying your flight to stay and celebrate the 1-2 finish. You’d been standing at the bar ordering a drink when Daniel appeared beside you and handed over his card to pay for your drink instead. When you’d thanked him he just grinned and pulled you in for a hug to cement the friendship you already had. It made you think that anything romantic could never happen.

“I’d have kissed you back.”

“We were fools.”

Dinner that night was bright and happy, the knowledge that the contract was being signed tomorrow and Daniel was happy helping everyone. He’d been invited to Seb’s goodbye party and had stuck around for a few minutes before leaving. It was Seb’s night, he didn’t want to bring the mood down and instead said he wanted to spend the night with his family. The walk from your room to his suite was about a minute, everyone standing there and greeting you both with hugs and kisses on your cheek. Michael shook his head at the way Danny wouldn’t keep his hands off you, making you smile shyly at the knowledge.

Once the pizzas arrived they were opened and spread over the table, people handing slices through as wine was poured. The kids had juice and were clinking glasses with everyone between each sip. When they chose you to clink with you couldn’t help the grin spreading over your face. Dan’s arm was around your shoulder as you all sat at the table. It was a nearly perfect night.

People started slipping away as the night went on. Hugs goodbye were given and you were surprised to be included in them. Finally it was just you and Dan left in the room and he pulled you to them, arms holding you close.

“Stay the night?” You smiled up at him and reached for a kiss, sealing exactly where you were staying.

When you woke up in his arms you were pleasantly sore with a warm hand rubbing a circle into your hip.

“Good morning,” you murmured as you turned over to see him there.

“Morning.”

Getting ready would have been a lot quicker if he hadn’t dragged you into the shower with him, heated kisses between the two of you making it take much longer in the warm water than you truly needed. Once Dan was dressed he went down to your room for clean clothes, returning with a navy shirt and jeans. You raised an eyebrow.

“Look, there’s no logos. But you can’t wear orange today.” Your laughter pealed through the room before grabby fingers ticked you. You made him stop so the two of you could meet his parents and get there on time.

The Red Bull motorhome had always been somewhere you’d wanted to visit and learn from. Their set up was effortless and when you had a few minutes you enjoyed watching how they worked together, wanting to see if you could steal some of their efficiency for McLaren. Today though there was no paddock passes and turnstiles, just you and Danny arriving hand in hand with Grace and Joe behind the two of you. His fingers fit perfectly between yours as you walked beside him. There were looks from your team breaking down the McLaren motorhome but you just smiled and continued on to the far end of the paddock. Once you reached Red Bull Daniel looked down at you.

“Ready?” He asked and you squeezed his fingers.

“As long as you’re ready.”

It was mostly boring while you watched him sign away what felt like his life with multiple signatures. You stood at the back of the conference room with Grace and Joe while mostly Daniel and Christian spoke and you felt completely out of place. Finally it was done, the two men standing up and shaking hands before pulling each other into a hug. Christian greeted Grace and Joe but Daniel reached over to take your hand and pull you forward.

“Christian, you know my girlfriend from the paddock, right? She does the McLaren setup and travel planning. Meet Christian Horner. He’s nicer than he seems to most people, I swear.” You smiled and held your hand out, Dan holding onto your waist.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself and Christian shook your hand.

“I’m well aware of who you are. You turned down Ferrari last year, didn’t you?” Your cheeks heated at his words. The job offer they’d given you had been kept hush hush, but it would have been highly paid. You didn’t want to leave McLaren at the time so you turned it down. You didn’t think that anyone except you and Binotto even know that there was a firm offer on the table.

“I did. I wanted to stick where I was.”

“And if I offered you a job here?”

You took a beat but shook your head. “I’d appreciate it, but my answer is still no. I want my reputation to stand on its own. I don’t want people thinking I’m just following my boyfriend around the paddock to his new team. Ask me in another year and I might consider it.”

Horner laughed, clapping your shoulder. “I should have guessed that would be your answer. Binotto still wants you there, so I’d prepare for that job offer if things settle down in Maranello. Now we’ve got photos to do outside. Not that I want to face the sun after last night, Sebastian got the Jaegermeister out and it was a mistake.”

There were photographers snapping as the two went outside, Grace and Joe slightly behind and you following at a distance. Danny slid the navy polo shirt on and you had to admit it really did suit him. They sat at a table and signed the last page before taking questions and filming content. It was so clear to you just how happy this made your boyfriend. He was relaxed and grinning, smiling and joking even when Christian grabbed his chest. You laughed at the scene, taking your own photos of them. Once it was done Daniel came back to you with his fingers grabbing yours and holding tightly.

“Do you want lunch?” Christian asked, Daniel shaking his head.

“I can’t be here when afternoon practice starts. I need to get a clean break, and I’m back in Monaco tomorrow. I’m in Milton Keynes in two weeks?”

“We want you at the parade. Will you both be there?” The second part was aimed at you.

“I won’t be,” you replied. “I still have my own job to do, so I’ll be supporting at a distance and outside of work.”

“We’ll see you around.”

The drivers were starting to come in for the practices, Lando hugging the two of you briefly and Oscar looking nervous to see you there. Daniel squeezed your hand before going to speak to him for a moment, the two separating looking brighter. It was nods to everyone else you saw before getting in the car and Dan leaning his head back.

“I’m going to Monaco in the morning, do you want to come with me? I want to spend time with you away from the tracks. Eat food, spend time together, get our shit together. What do you think?”

You grinned at him, leaning over to nuzzle your head to his chest.

“That sounds like one of the best ideas you’ve ever had. I want to spend time with you and get to know you properly, Daniel Ricciardo. Plus, I think I’ve made friends with your family.”

“I think they’d pick you over me.”

It was a lie, but a sweet one. You smiled and agreed, pulling up your travel app and cancelling the flight to London. You could book the Nice flight later on that evening. The afternoon ahead beckoned with laying out at the pool to enjoy the October sun, jumping in and splashing the family that had quickly welcomed you as a member. Dinner that night was another family dinner in the restaurant but out in the main area rather than a private room. Anyone could see all of you together but you weren’t worried. The almost out of clean clothes situation did worry you slightly, but it was manageable as you pulled an outfit together. Dan had done some magic to move your belongings to his hotel room, your toiletries mingling with his in the bathroom. The way they just fit together didn’t go unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t take the Ferrari job?”

Dan had just finished clasping your necklace when he asked, pressing a kiss to where the chain hit your neck.

“I didn’t want it.” You turned around and looked up at him, a small smile on your lips. “Carlos put my name in for it when it came up. He told Binotto that I’d be perfect for it and Binotto agreed. I didn’t even need to interview. But I told you, I’m awful at goodbyes.”

“You stayed because of me?” You’d have been lying if you said he wasn’t part of your decision, the friendship you’d shared meant so much.

“Not just you. But I was loyal to McLaren. Now though I’m loyal to you.”

Photos from the dinner ended up online, shared on instagram and TikTok. You really liked one of them that had you and Dan with a child on each of your laps. It was taken from far enough away that nobody’s face was truly visible so you took that opportunity to lock down your instagram account before anybody could work out it was definitely you. Even though you’d appeared on his photography account in a work context you wanted to keep what little privacy you could for a while.

It lasted all the way on the hour or so drive to Dubai International for the direct flight to Nice. While not as busy as Abu Dhabi would have been the airport was still filled with people who’d been in the UAE for the race. Thanks to your lack of non work clothes Dan had given you one of his tees to wear - laughing at how it was essentially a dress - and you were clearly together as he checked you both in and whisked you into the lounge after saying goodbye to his family. People stopped and stared at him but only a few asked for photos which let you relax a little. It was a little bit scary and definitely unusual, and you didn’t know quite what this relationship would involve but you were determined. This wasn’t going to end in a goodbye, even with the what could be of next season.

Just before you boarded both of your phones dinged, Lando creating a group chat with you. You opened it up to a link to an instagram post putting the dinner photos together with the times you’d been caught on camera and the one and only time Ted Kravitz had spoken to you, naming you as Dan’s girlfriend.

Just saw this, thought you should know. For the record you look adorable.

Dan squeezed your hand before the two of you handed over your passports to the gate agent, holding on as you walked down the jet bridge. Once you were settled into the plush first class seat - and you’d have a conversation with him about paying for it later - you looked at him, catching his gaze. He seemed slightly worried but you smiled.

“Fuck ‘em all?” You asked, his eyes lighting up at the familiar words.

“Fuck ‘em all. We know what we’ve got.”

Dan took your hand as you listened to the pre flight information. You took a photo of the hands linked, Dan’s rose tattoo showing clearly. You sent it to him, watching as he smiled and picked up exactly what you were thinking. Less than a minute later he nudged you to open instagram. When you opened the app his latest post was the first on your feed. The caption made you grin.

Honey Badger’s being tamed. FEA, babe.

You kept the smile on your face as you sat back and put your feet up, waiting for the six hour flight to begin. Whatever the media wanted to throw at the two of you could suck it. This was the best non goodbye you could ever receive.

Tagging: @vroomvroommbtch

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine

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fizzyxcustard · 8 months

Text

Broken

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x Original Female Character (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Torture mention, flashbacks, PTSD, nightmares

Word count: 3767

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas' colleague, working for MI5 as an analyst. She sees Lucas experiencing intense flashbacks out in the rain, and takes him back to her flat to comfort him.

Comments/Notes: This fic is partially based on an episode of Spooks (season 7, I believe) where we see Lucas having flashbacks when in the rain.

Special thanks to all my mutuals who participate in writing sessions with me over on our Discord server. And, as always, @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady who is the biggest Lucas and Amy fan I know.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Flashes of the place Lucas had been confined to for eight years. Grimy tiles, pain, despair. Oleg Darshavin’s face.

Lucas closed his eyes hard, and the flashes became more intense. He stumbled back, almost falling over his own feet. His heartbeat was thundering, and his adrenaline was coursing fast through his veins.

Amy walked quickly, crossing over a main road, and then slipped up a quiet backstreet. The rain had become a heavy drizzle, thick in the air. From head to foot and she felt sodden with water. But she continued on, splashing through the odd puddle.

She heard a groan. Her eyes darted to her right quickly and she saw her colleague standing slumped against the wall. “Lucas?” she asked. “Are you alright? Has someone hurt you?”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile weakly as Amy showed nothing but concern for him. “I’ll be alright,” he replied.

Another drop fell from a balcony above and splashed down Lucas’ face. He tensed, gasped, and fell back again.

“You’re far from alright,” Amy said, and grabbed his arm, holding him against her. “Come on, my flat is only a street away. Are you okay to walk a bit further?”

Lucas smiled again. “I haven’t lost my ability to walk, love. I’m fine.”

The two of them walked to the end of the small backstreet, and then turned right, out onto another main strip. Amy kept Lucas’ arm tight in hers. She knew full well the reasons that he had reacted the way he had. No one on Earth would be able to withstand a literal hell like Lushanka without coming home with mental scars.

Amy’s flat was a ground floor maisonette, which was situated next door to a small supermarket and a pub, which was extremely convenient. She let herself and Lucas in.

Warmth immediately wrapped around Lucas, a huge contrast from the chilled atmosphere outside.

Amy was a couple of steps behind him. She switched on the light, which illuminated a small kitchen. “I’ll pop the kettle on for a drink. Do you want anything to eat?”

That smile again. He couldn’t help it. “If you’re eating, then I’ll have something, but don’t put yourself out.”

“Give me your coat and I’ll put it up in the airing cupboard to dry off.”

Amy disappeared out of the room for a minute or so, and when she returned, she was holding a bath towel. “Here, if you want to dry your hair off. You can have a bath, too, if you like.”

“Love, I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss.”

“Lucas, I know what happened outside. So stop trying to shrug everything off and act like you’re fine.”

Lucas pursed his lips and then averted his gaze to the carpet. Her words seemed to hit a nerve inside him, which would normally beckon a defence mechanism. But he bit his tongue, holding on to the realisation that she was being kind when she needn’t be. Amy could have quite easily walked on past him, or just said goodnight and not bothered to try and help.

The kettle boiled and Amy prepared two mugs of tea, and then began sorting through her freezer for a large pizza. “This should take about twenty minutes or so to cook. Do you want to come into the living room?”

Lucas followed Amy through into her living room, which wasn’t much bigger than the tiny kitchen. There was a television in the corner and then one small sofa. Against the wall next to a window was a book case filled with ornaments and trinkets. Amy began to speak. “My roommate moved out a week ago, so I’m looking for someone to move in with me, otherwise it’ll be me moving. You know how high rent is in London. No way can I live here on my own. My mum and dad, who live up in Coventry, live in a house that they paid half the price that this would go for, and it’s got three bedrooms.”

“How come you moved down to London then?” Lucas asked, taking a sip of his tea.

“To be with my ex. But when we split up, I’d already got a job here and didn’t want to move back and be a burden on my parents, so I stayed.”

Lucas realised that even though he’d worked with Amy for almost a year now, since she started at Section D as an analyst, he didn’t know that much about her. They spoke most days in passing, and had even sat together at lunch in the canteen once or twice, but their conversation had never been below surface level chit chat.

Amy could feel her nerves taking over; her mind analysed everything that was coming out of her mouth, making sure that it passed the test to be spoken. That overanalytical mind came in handy for her job, but when in social situations, it held her back. She’d always had a crush on Lucas, but knew he was very much out of her league. Everyone in the office knew that he had been involved with a CIA agent, Sarah Caulfield, who was pretty, petite, blonde. The typical woman most men would want. Amy was far from that. Short, curvy stature, a dark, shaggy pixie-type cut and not a lot of confidence. Amy was very aware that Lucas North would never go for the likes of her.

“I’ll go and check on the pizza,” Amy said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Lucas surveyed the room, seeing all the Disney ornaments opposite on the bookcase. They made him think of her fancy Dumbo mug that she had on her desk at work, and the Lilo and Stitch notebook she kept handy.

The warmth had him suspended now and he felt calm, having forgotten all the memories of turmoil from earlier that evening.

“Not long to go, I don’t think,” Amy said, offering a smile.

Lucas returned the smile, noticing how pretty her eyes were. They were green. And when she smiled, it made a twinkle shine in her eyes. And as she sat down, he caught a faint whiff of her perfume; sweet and feminine. Why was he suddenly noticing all of these things now?

“Are you sure you don’t want a bath? I can start one for you.” Amy asked again.

“Maybe once we’ve eaten. So what made you join MI5?”

Amy tucked her leg up under herself on the sofa and looked at Lucas who was only a foot or so away. “I saw the advert when looking for another job. I used to work at the JobCentre as a work coach, but it become too stressful.”

“So you came to work for us?” Lucas chuckled.

“It can be stressful, but not in the same way. My old manager was always breathing down our necks for targets as we had to try and get as many people into jobs as we could, and if we didn’t manage a certain quota then we were put on performance reviews. If I wanted any time off, I had to book about a month in advance. I just couldn’t keep putting up with it, and somehow I got through the selection process for MI5. You can talk to me, you know? I know we don’t know each other that well, but you can talk to me. I know what you went through in Russia. So you don’t have to try and make the conversation all about me to avoid talking about it.”

Lucas sighed, gripping the mug tighter in his hands. “It’s not really something I want to re-live, Amy. And I appreciate your kindness more than you know, but I want to take my mind away from it. I have enough dreams and sometimes, like earlier, I’m taken back completely out of my control. I’d rather talk about you.”

She smiled sadly, knowing that Lucas would talk to her when he felt the time was right for him. “There isn’t much to tell about me really. I’m boring.”

“Come on, you’re far from boring. Tariq is always saying how great you are, and I suppose I’ve just not had chance to get to see any of that yet. And, maybe you already know, as it’s public knowledge on the grid, but Tariq does have a crush on you.”

Amy choked on her tea. “Oh, no. I feel sorry for him. If that’s true, I honestly had no idea.”

“You’re telling me that you never noticed?” Lucas laughed. “Amy, come on! He’s always getting you things, whether drinks or food from the vending machine. He watches you sometimes from across the room. He is so obvious.”

“I’m going to check the pizza,” Amy replied.

Lucas noticed that her face was straight, void of any kind of emotion. It made him feel ashamed for bringing the topic up. Had he embarrassed her?

In the kitchen and Amy opened the oven and took out the pizza which was on a metal tray.

“Amy? I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Lucas said softly.

“No, no, it’s okay.”

Lucas stepped closer, and apologised again.

Amy looked up. “Please, can we just leave it?”

Suddenly, the tray that the pizza was on slipped from Amy’s hand, which was covered in an oven mitt, and hit her opposite forearm. The pain was immediate and Amy dropped the tray onto the table and cried out.

“Aim!” Lucas exclaimed. He rushed to her and ushered her to the sink, turning on the cold tap. He held her arm under the tap.

Amy sighed as the cold water hit the burn, but couldn’t help look up at Lucas. He was so handsome; so much so that it made her sadness rise again.

Lucas locked his gaze with Amy’s for a couple of seconds, with him still holding her arm under the cold water. Her skin was smooth, and she had plump cheeks. Her lips looked moist, and for a brief second, he wanted to kiss them.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said.

“What are you apologising for? It was my fault that you got distracted and this happened. Come and sit down, and I’ll finish plating up. Here, take a cloth and wrap it around your arm.” Lucas grabbed a tea towel from the counter and wet it under the tap, and then wrapped it around Amy’s arm. “I’ll get the food.”

Amy sat down in the living room, waiting for Lucas. She kept the tea towel on her arm, but now her mind was racing with other thoughts, which dulled the pain.

Act natural, Aim. Act fucking natural.

Lucas brought the pizza in and placed the two plates down on the coffee table which was in front of the sofa. He’d sliced the pizza into quarters, giving them both two large slices each. “Can I still have that bath?”

“Of course you can.”

After they had eaten, Amy started a bath for Lucas and poured in some lavender bubble bath. Since they had eaten, the rain had started coming down heavy once more.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Amy asked. “It’s tipping it down again, and I couldn’t see you walk home in it, especially after what happened earlier. Please stay over. There’s still a bed in the spare room. You can have some of my blankets.”

“On one condition.”

“Okay.”

“You let me take you out for breakfast in the morning. It’s the least I can do,” Lucas said. He was lingering in the doorway as Amy kept an eye on the rising bath water. Slowly and he began removing his blue shirt, leaving him in his black vest.

Amy could see his tattoos and felt a blush rise in her cheeks. This man was just too bloody attractive, and no doubt he knew it, too. She turned off the water and quickly slipped past Lucas out of the door.

“Hey,” Lucas said, catching her hand.

Amy looked up at him and felt her breath catch in her chest as he smiled...yet again.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

While Lucas was in the bath, relaxing, Amy remained in the living room with another mug of tea. She was watching an episode of Doctor Who with David Tennant and Billie Piper. Most of the words coming from the television set seemed to shoot in one ear and then slip out the other, without any comprehension taking place in between.

A vivid red line was now present on Amy’s left forearm, and the sharp edge was still present in the pain. The dull thumping, however, had stopped.

Thoughts of Lucas swirled around her mind, and she tried not to imagine him naked underneath all the bubbles in the bath. The harder she tried and the more intense the daydream became, until she was imaging herself undressing slowly in the bathroom doorway, with him watching eagerly in delight.

“I haven’t watched Doctor Who in years.”

“Shit!” Amy cursed, almost dropping her mug of tea across her lap.

Lucas stepped into the room, wearing only his jeans and black vest. “Haven’t you burned yourself enough tonight, Aim?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sneak in and actually try to make me jump,” Amy hissed back.

“I wasn’t trying to make you jump at all,” Lucas continued, sitting down beside Amy. There was a defensiveness in her words and actions that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was as though she was trying to keep him at arm’s length, somehow scared of him getting too close. “You just seem on edge and jumpy with me. I’ll go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s not that you make me uncomfortable. Please don’t think that at all. I’m just…” she shrugged, trying to think of her next words. “Ummm. I’m crap getting to know people, that’s all. I never know how to make small talk. It doesn’t come natural to me. I prefer to have big philosophical conversations, rather than talk about the weather or the latest episodes of reality television.”

Lucas smirked. “So talk about something deep then. Whatever you like.”

“I’m going to have a shower now.” Amy got up from the sofa, taking her mug of tea with her. “I’ll grab some blankets from my room while I get my pyjamas ready.”

As Amy disappeared out of the room, Lucas sighed. Why was she closed down? Had he offended her? It felt as if the longer he spent with her, the higher her walls became. For a couple of minutes, he let his gaze lock on the television and follow the Doctor and Rose on the screen.

Once Amy was showered and dried, she made her way back to the living room, where she saw Lucas still sat on the sofa. He looked up at her and smiled. “I’ve put some blankets and pillows out for you on the bed, so you don’t have to stay out here with me if you want to go to bed,” Amy told him.

“I’m fine for a bit longer, love,” Lucas said, stretching his arms up behind his head. “I don’t normally sleep until late anyway.”

“I really fancy some chocolate. Do you want some?”

“Sure, if you’ve got enough.”

A minute later and Amy came back with a large block of Dairy Milk. “Here, help yourself. I could quite easily eat a whole block sometimes, but I have to control myself.”

Lucas broke a few squares off the block and began to eat, enjoying the sweet taste. “I don’t think you can get much better than Cadbury’s.” As he spoke, Lucas had a mouthful of chocolate.

Amy giggled at his lack of airs and graces. For once he was showing himself to be less than perfect, as Amy had always imagined him to be.

“What?” he asked, mouth still full.

“Just you. I never thought you’d be the kind of man to talk with your mouth full. You’ve always come across to me as though you’re very proper.”

“Me? Proper? You must be joking,” Lucas laughed.

For the next couple of hours, Amy and Lucas continued to share the block of Dairy Milk, while old episodes of Doctor Who played in the background. Their conversation began with work, discussing an ongoing operation. But then Amy mentioned her ex again, which gave Lucas the perfect way in.

“How come you split up?”

“He just said he didn’t love me anymore,” Amy said sadly, her gaze dropping to the carpet again. “I don’t really think he ever did, to be honest.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s embarrassing and quite shameful, so I don’t particularly want to share it.”

“Why would he make you feel ashamed?”

Amy looked up at Lucas, her eyes wide. “Please, can we just not? You have a past you’d rather not talk about, and so do I.”

The air between them turned quiet, until Amy got up. “I’m going to head to bed now. If you want to stay out here and watch the telly, then by all means do. You know where everything is in the kitchen.”

Lucas looked up at her, feeling his heart sink in sadness at her response to him. “O…okay, love. Remember, breakfast in the morning. If I shouldn’t be awake when you get up, just wake me.”

“Alright. Have a good night,” Amy said, and left the room.

For a good hour, Amy lay in bed, her mind twisting and turning with the conversations of the evening. She was not prepared to lay out her deepest insecurity to Lucas. A gorgeous man who could easily have any woman – surely Amy would just be something he could mock if he really knew her.

Why do I constantly put myself out for other people? And it’s always for people who wouldn’t do the same for me. Lucas would happily turn his back on me and forget tonight, and walk off into the sunset with a beautiful woman. All of it just shows how weak and stupid I am.

Suddenly, Amy was pulled out of her sleep by shouting. For a split second she forgot that Lucas was in the flat with her, and terror gripped her tight. But then the realisation that it was Lucas filtered through, and she jumped out of her bed, fumbling through the dark.

In the living room, she flicked on the lamp which was beside the television. Light erupted and filled the small room. Lucas was still shouting; his words were incomprehensible, being a mixture of half screams and words.

Amy looked to see him trashing on the sofa, his hands in tight fists. “Lucas?” she called. She got on her knees next to the sofa and put her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him. “Lucas?” she said louder. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Come on, wake up.” She then shook him.

Lucas’ eyes shot open and he gasped, staring at Amy for a second, no recognition present on his face.

“It’s Amy. You’re safe in my flat. It’s okay.”

Amy’s voice beckoned Lucas back to reality and he began to focus, recognising her. The light from the lamp created a halo around her head. He couldn’t help but sigh and drop back onto the sofa. “Oh, Aim, I’m sorry,” he groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“No, you’re not,” she said, giving a smile. “Do you want a drink?”

“Please. Anything will do.”

Lucas followed Amy through into the kitchen where she picked up a bottle of Dr Pepper and poured two glasses full. He couldn’t help but smile at her mismatched pyjamas; a Dumbo T-shirt and a pair of red and black plaid bottoms.

Both of them took a huge gulp from their glasses and remained silent for a few seconds, before Lucas spoke.

“The dreams never stop,” he said.

Amy looked at him and thought he looked beaten down in those moments, as though the weight of the world were upon his shoulders.

“Lushanka was…”

“Shh, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. I want you to understand, Amy. I want you to understand me and know why I reacted the way I did in that backstreet. The torture would come when I least expected it; night or day. Beatings and water. Somehow the water was worse. I couldn’t breathe; every second felt like it was my last. And even now…I…I feel water on my face or head and it brings everything back. I can’t stop it.”

Amy saw Lucas’ hands shake as he spoke. She grabbed them and held them, warming them in her own.

She wanted love and comfort. He felt that so deeply with him. It was as though she built up these walls, but her actions would contradict that as she grappled for some hint of warmth and affection.

“My…um…ex-boyfriend, he…” Tears welled in Amy’s eyes. She looked up at the ceiling and then back down at Lucas’ hands. “I know he didn’t love me because he never made time for me. I’ve never had someone make time for me because they want me; it’s only ever what I can give them. I know my place now, so I stay there.”

“One man doesn’t speak for everyone, Aim.”

“Maybe what I’m trying to say is, if he couldn’t love me, then who else could? I’m sorry. I’m making this about me now, and you’re the one…”

“No, I want to listen,” Lucas said.

“Maybe we should just leave it and go to bed.” Amy dropped Lucas’ hands and began to turn, but was shocked when she felt him grab her hand.

His steel blue eyes were locked on her. “You were there for me tonight when I needed someone. Twice, I might add. When it was raining and just now when I woke. You were like an angel, calling me to safety. And I want to be that safety for you.”

Amy took a large exhale and found that she couldn’t unlock her gaze from his. It was mesmerising.

Slowly, Lucas moved forward and placed a gentle kiss against her lips. His hand curled around her cheek, and his fingers brushed up into her hair. The kiss began to grow more heated, their tongues seeking each other.

Amy pulled from the kiss, her breath hitched and she looked up at him. “I…I can’t do this, Lucas. You want something casual, and I’m not like that.”

“Where did you get the idea from that I wanted something casual?”

***

(I may write a sequel to this, depending on how this is received)

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#Lucas North #Spooks #MI5 #Lucas North x Original Female Character #Lucas North x OFC

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anyon-else · 11 months

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Will You Remember Me As I Am Now? (The Red Room pt.10) | For the first time in your life, you understand what true happiness feels like, and it's both exciting and terrifying. You know now that you have to hold onto it before it's ripped away. (Marvel AU) – spotify playlist | read on ao3

Pairings | Kakashi Hatake x Black Widow!Reader + Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Orochimaru, Kabuto Yakushi

Warnings | female!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, abuse, violence, guns, manipulation, nightmares

Word count | 9.3k

(previous chapter) | (next chapter) | (series masterlist)

Life was pleasant.

You hadn't realized that a feeling like this existed. For as long as you could remember, your existence was contained within a small echo-chamber where you learned only about the world's cruelties. On a good day, you didn't add another scar to your seemingly never-ending collection. On a bad day, someone died at your hands. The bad days were often more frequent than the good ones.

But now, it seemed that the Red Room and all of the pain associated with it was just a distant memory. Even your nightmares had slowly faded away, only reappearing between long periods of restful nights.

The dizzying change wasn't necessarily hard to accept. Especially when you were becoming so attached to what your life had become.

Tonight, you'd been invited to Sakura's first movie night since she'd gotten back.

Kakashi was on your right side, tired eyes straining to focus on the movie. Naruto sat at his feet, leaning back on his legs and nodding off every few minutes. Sakura was pressed against your left side, leaning in your shoulder with a small, content smile. Sasuke was on the floor next to her, leaning just slightly on her legs and watching the screen with interest.

According to Sakura, movie night was a fairly normal activity for the four of them. Before she was taken, they'd had one at least once a week. However, when Kakashi had asked you to join them, he told you that this was their first time continuing the tradition since Sakura was taken. He could never bring himself to suggest it without Sakura being there, and Naruto and Sasuke never brought it up either.

So, while Sakura probably saw this as her reintegration of a continuous and simple tradition, you noticed the way that Kakashi glanced over the three kids fondly. Every now and then, you'd catch him looking at each of them as if taking a head count, just to make sure he had all of them there.

You couldn't remember what the name of the movie they'd chosen was. In all honestly, you were barely paying attention. From the moment Kakashi had sat down at your side, close enough that his arm was pressed against yours, you'd felt your heartbeat spike. Frustratingly, it refused to lower despite your best efforts to focus on the movie instead of the proximity.

This had been happening more and more recently. It frustrated you that you had little control over the way you reacted to his presence, and even more infuriating was that you didn't know why.

And you couldn't ask him. The thought alone made you want to crawl into a hole. But it was also becoming troublesome; it was getting harder and harder to sleep in the same bed as him when your heart was beating out of your chest. Some nights you worried he'd hear it, but he seemed perfectly normal.

So normal that it aggravated you.

Why were you so effected by his presence, yet he seemed perfectly fine? He slept peacefully. He rarely got flustered. He was acting the same as always, and while you were grateful that he wasn't confronting you about any odd behavior, it didn't seem fair that this mysterious nervousness was only effecting you.

However, now wasn't the time to ponder on the reasons. It was all you could do to keep your heart from racing. It was unfamiliar and unpleasant enough that you wished your body would just calm itself down without your intervention.

You were disappointed in yourself. Could you really not control anything about your body, from your actions to your feelings?

Sakura glanced at you when you shifted, trying to adjust and put as much space between you and Kakashi that you could. If it was the physical contact that made you so nervous, you knew that you should've just told him that you didn't want him touching you, but this felt different from the unpleasantness that you generally associated with touch. You were so confused, and it infuriated you.

Sakura was giving you continuous and frustratingly obvious glances whenever Kakashi shifted. You knew that she felt your heart-rate pick up, and this new tangle of emotions was not made any less frustrating by her knowing looks.

At one point during the movie—which you'd discovered through short intervals of attention was about a friendship between a fox and a dog—you noticed Sasuke's subtle nudge against Sakura's leg. It would've been easily mistakable as a shift in position, but the small glance that he shot her was painfully obvious to your well-trained eyes.

For a moment, neither Sasuke nor Sakura moved, and you felt it acceptable to let your guard down and shift your attention back to the movie. However, the moment you lifted your head, Sakura leaned closer to you and pressed herself into your side. She sighed happily as she pushed much more than her full weight on you, and while it wasn't necessarily strange that Sakura clung to you like this, her movements ended up crowding you against Kakashi's side. You were practically hip-to-hip now, though Kakashi didn't look anywhere near as startled as you felt by the change. In fact, he smoothly and nonchalantly pulled his arm from between your hips and laid it over the back of the couch behind your head. Your eyes widened, and your heartbeat picked up again despite his arm being a few inches from your neck. Sakura looked at the new position, and you wanted to shove her off the couch when a smug smile spread across her lips.

Kakashi, much to your chagrin, didn't look the least bit phased. He and Naruto were completely engrossed in the movie, oblivious to the silent war that you'd decided to start against Sakura and Sasuke.

"Psst," Sakura whispered, loud enough to pull Kakashi's attention away from the screen, "you're heart's beating pretty fast. Are you feeling okay?"

You heard the false concern in her voice, and you met her forced frown with a glare, pointedly facing her rather than Kakashi when he raised a brow at you and Sakura.

"I'm fine," you grit, closing your eyes when Kakashi's hand fell to your back to feel your racing heart for himself. He you'd become far more comfortable with his touch over the past few weeks, but now it was beginning to have the opposite effect that you wanted. You thought your heart might burst from your chest if this went on any longer.

"It is beating fast," Kakashi muttered, misguided concern in his voice. He probably thought you were having a panic attack, "you don't have to stay. Do you want to go back to our room?"

Our room. Damn him. Sakura covered her mouth to hide a snicker and Sasuke was grinning like a cheshire cat. Damn them too. Damn it all.

"Yeah," you said hoarsely, clearing your throat and stepping away from his touch, "that'd be good, I think."

You left the room quickly, steps echoing in the vast space of the lounge. The movie continued playing, and you released a heavy sigh when you entered Kakashi's room.

This was a fairly recent phenomenon. Your nervousness hadn't been this bad last week, and the week before you'd been perfectly content in Kakashi's presence. You'd still been able to sleep somewhat soundly, though you'd recently started facing away from him at night. It was hard to tell whether that was a result of growing trust or increased nervousness.

God, you were losing it. You were a spy. A former Black Widow. You were better than childish crushes, though you were really doing your best to convince yourself that there was something else going on. Unfortunately, that was the only explanation that you could come up with.

You couldn't really be blamed for it, though. Not when you got to see his face night after night, mask discarded like he was completely comfortable being so vulnerable around you.

It made you overthink to an infuriating extent.

You sat on the bed, thinking hard enough on this revelation that you'd slowly come to over the past week that you barely heard the door opening behind you. The fleeting hope that it was Sakura coming to check on you vanished when Kakashi's familiar weight sank into the bed.

"Sakura said I should come check on you," he said, and you closed your eyes. She really had it all planned out.

"I'm fine," you told him, careful not to let any emotion into your voice. What that translated as was a cold and closed-off response, which was likely not going to make him feel reassured by your answer.

"It's okay if you're not, you know."

Everything was becoming irritating. Kakashi. His unending patience. His warmth. How secure you felt around him. It was too good—too...safe. It was completely different from anything you'd ever experienced.

"I am," you sighed, deflating at his gentle tone. He nodded, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the ceiling.

A few months ago, the idea of adjusting to a place like this would've made you laugh. It hadn't been safety that you wanted, it had been routine. Order. Even if it was enforced by pain. In fact, that was something you were so used to that you would've welcomed it with open arms.

But even though the person you'd become was a far cry from who you were, you found yourself becoming more and more comfortable with yourself as each day passed. Each time Sakura laughed at your joked, or Sasuke asked to spar with you, or Naruto asked if you wanted to have ramen with him, you wondered what you had done to make them willing to spend time with you.

You wondered what you had done to make Kakashi feel safe in your presence. You wondered and wondered, but even when no answers came, you felt content.

You woke later that night frozen on your side of Kakashi's bed, gripping the sheets and trying to force yourself to breath. Tears rolled silently down your cheeks and dampened the pillow below you, but you were paralyzed, unable to move to wipe them away.

Kakashi hadn't stirred. It gave you the chance to collect your thoughts, though that was easier said than done. It had been a few weeks since your last nightmare, but your reaction to them kept increasing in intensity. You had grown too used to a pleasant night's sleep. Now your nightmares seemed even more daunting than before, and the idea of sleeping without Kakashi was equally as terrifying.

It took a few minutes to get your stiff limbs to begin moving. Eventually, you stood from the bed and shuffled towards the door to Kakashi's small balcony. The air was crisp, and you took in a deep breath once you'd closed the door behind you.

Your gut was churning.

Things had been quiet at the compound since you and Kakashi finished the mission. Your wounds had fully healed, and with less prominent marks than many of your other scars thanks to Kakashi and Sakura's superior medical care.

Everything was fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and HYDRA didn't seem to be a threat to you now. Your previous suspicious that Sakura was still in danger despite Kakashi's reassurances were disappearing with each day that passed, as was the fear that you were losing your mind. Adjusting was becoming easier and easier, and it seemed that way for Sasuke and Naruto as well. You were fitting into their little family with more ease than before.

But looking out at the calm, clear night sky, you felt a familiar, unpleasant feeling in your stomach. It was probably the Widow whispering in your ear, convincing you that all of this was too good to be true, but you felt that there was something else. Something that was giving you this gut feeling.

"Maa," Kakashi muttered behind you. You listened to each of his footsteps as he walked to your side; now, with your lingering sense of dread, it was harder to focus on your nervousness. You studied the surrounding area carefully, looking for a threat that had likely never been there in the first place, "aren't you cold?"

Right. It was the middle of winter, and the middle of the night, but you'd neglected to wear a jacket. In all honestly, you'd barely noticed your poor clothing choice, too caught up in your panic to think of anything but the endearing pull of fresh air.

"A bit," you shrugged, "I just wanted to come out for a second. I'll come back in soon."

Kakashi shrugged, but before you could stop him, he had disappeared inside and returned with a jacket. You'd seen him wearing it when he left the compound for missions, and he generally kept it hung over his desk chair. You felt your nervousness returning when he draped it over your shoulders.

His hands brushed against your arms as they pulled away, and you closed your eyes to try and stop yourself from visibly shivering. Every time he did that, you wanted to grab his hand and keep him close, just to stay in his peaceful presence a little bit longer. The foreign urge made you want to scream; a few months ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of feelings like this. They made people weak and soft.

But now you understood the appeal to a frustrating extent. You still heard Orochimaru's voice like a devil on your shoulder whispering in your ear, telling you that this was why so many Widows died before their time. Their feelings—their humanity—were their downfall. And you'd always looked down on them, just like all the others.

How had you become your own worst fear in so little time?

Was this the person you'd hoped to become? Had you ever hoped to become anything?

You stood with him in silence, listening to the wind rustle the trees and scanning between the trunks, triple checking that there was nothing lurking just out of view.

"What's bothering you?"

It was only logical to tell him about this foreboding feelings, but you also didn't want to raise any alarms if you were just getting worked up over a gut feeling. You had no desire to send Kakashi on another goose chase—not now that things had actually calmed down enough for him to relax.

"Nothing."

He accepted your answer with a nod and further silence. It sent a rush of gratitude through you, and you turned to face him before you could think better of it. You ignored the Widow's voice and Orochimaru's reprimands in your head telling you that acting on childish feelings would only create weakened resolve and depleted strength.

But you felt powerful when you were with Kakashi. Orochimaru's teachings had far too many holes for them to have the same grasp on you as they did before. Especially now that you understood more accurately what humanity entailed.

It felt like freedom.

Kakashi met your gaze, elbows still resting on the railing, but he shot up when you lunged at him. He was frozen in place as you wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping him locked in a tight hug. You were unsure of yourself, and you worried when he didn't respond to your gesture that you'd done something wrong—were hugs meant to be this tight? Should you have given him some sort of warning? Sakura had never minded hugs like this, but that was different. Hugging Sakura never made you feel like your heart was going to burst from your chest, or that your stomach was turning itself over again and again.

It took Kakashi a few seconds to recover, and you thought that he'd stopped breathing in that time, but when he regained his senses he was quick to reciprocate. You let out a sigh when he wrapped an arm around your waist and brought the other to the back of your head, pressing it firmly into his chest and letting out a deep, relieved breath. You felt it against your cheek, a comforting warmth in the cold night air.

You weren't sure what possessed you to do this; it was both brave and, from what Kakashi had seen, completely out of character. But it was something you were desperate for. Just one touch that provided comfort—one reassurance that you were allowed to be someone new. That you were allowed to choose who you wanted to become, and feel these new emotions that had always been forbidden before.

I'll teach you how to be human.

Kakashi's words echoed in your mind, and you thought about how much he had already done. About the progress you'd made in so little time. You were proud of yourself. For the first time in your life, you felt that you'd accomplished something for your own sake rather than someone else's.

Kakashi pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hands still pressed against your back to keep you close.

Maybe, just for this moment, it was okay to ignore your worry. Things were so good, and if this forboding feeling would go away you'd be able to relax. Maybe this kind of gesture wouldn't feel so significant. Maybe, after enough time, it would become normal to hug Kakashi. To hug Sakura, and even Sasuke and Naruto. To be part of a family. To have a home.

"Is this okay?" you croaked, swallowing against your dry throat. "Can I do this?"

"Yes," he whispered back.

You'd never been held before. Not like this.

Everything about your life now was so precious. You were becoming more and more desperate to keep it safe.

You also noticed through the contented haze of your thoughts that Kakashi's heart was beating just as fast as your own.

The next morning, you woke up alone.

Muffled voices slipped under the door, and you could make out Kakashi's voice directing the three kids as they cooked breakfast. You could smell something sweet all the way in the closed bedroom, and it lured you from the warmth of Kakashi's blankets. You trudged into the kitchen groggily, following the sounds of Naruto's shout of surprise and Sasuke's angry groan.

The kitchen was a disaster. The flour that Naruto had supposedly just spilled was spread over the counter and the floor, and some of it had somehow ended up on Sasuke and Kakashi. Sakura had sidestepped the mess and spotted you before the others.

"Ah!" she smacked Kakashi's shoulder, eyes wide in surprise, "Good morning! You're up early, huh?"

"I always get up early," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the frozen group, "what's going on?"

"Uh..." Naruto looked around, dusting flour off of the counter and running his hands over it frantically until he found a small, cylindrical object, "happy birthday!"

Confetti shot out of the small tube, and you watched it flutter to the ground to reveal a still-grinning Naruto. You blinked at him, completely bewildered. Birthday? Whose birthday was it?

"What's all this?" you asked, approaching the mess on the counter. From the looks of it, they were in the middle of making pancakes. There was a stack of them on a plate and a mixture of ingredients in a bowl in Sasuke's hands for more batter, which was presumably where the flour mishap had happened.

"Duh. I just told you! It's for your birthday!"

"It's...not my birthday."

"Huh?" Naruto turned towards Kakashi, "but you said...Kakashi-sensei! Did you get the day wrong?"

How would Kakashi know your birthday? You didn't even know your birthday. The concept of birthdays was practically nonexistent in the Red Room; you'd never really given a second thought to yours. When you discovered that people celebrated theirs every year, you thought it was a useless, time-wasting tradition.

"I saw it in your file at the bunker," Kakashi explained when he saw your puzzled expression. You looked at him, but you had to quickly avert your eyes from his soft smile, showing itself in his eyes above his mask.

Oh. So he...remembered your birthday? And went to all this trouble just for a day that was fairly insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Huh.

You felt your heart skip a beat as you stared at the man, eyes wide and mouth agape. You probably looked comical, and the grin on Sakura's face told you that you weren't being very subtle about your conflicted feelings.

"We made you breakfast!" Naruto said happily. He slid the full plate of pancakes across the table at you, then gave you a wide assortment of syrups and fruits. You approached the table carefully, still reeling from the fact that today was your birthday, and that the others had decided to do something for you to celebrate.

"Eat," Sakura smiled, softer than her previous one. She seemed to understand your confusion, even though she hadn't experienced it herself. Being in the Red Room since birth creates a detachment from one's identity that was hard for you to reconcile now that you were out, independent of Orochimaru's will, "we made it for you."

"Thank you," you muttered, chest warming as you looked at the small buffet that they'd created. Naruto kept pulling toppings out of the fridge—first whipped cream, then chocolate syrup, then strawberries.

"Eat! We're making more, so don't worry about leaving any for us."

It was the first time you'd ever tried pancakes, a fact that you informed the four of as you ate your fill. Naruto looked horrified, mouth open wide before he began shouting about how sad it must've been for you. You didn't attempt to remind him that you'd never exactly been worried about the lack of pancakes in your life.

"Try this one!" Sakura grinned as she pushed a large, spotted pancake towards you, "it's chocolate chip and it's amazing."

"Is not," Sasuke grumbled, ducking away from Sakura's attempt to shove him to the side. "What? They're too sweet."

"Mm," you hummed around your first bite, smiling at the two, "'s good."

"Tch. You all have bad taste."

Sakura glared at Sasuke and caught sight of his plate despite his best efforts to hide it.

"Ew, are you putting raisins in yours, weirdo?"

Kakashi reached over Sakura for the spatula that she was waving at Sasuke and flipped the remaining pancakes on the griddle. When he'd finished, he slid it back into her hand and watched her smack Sasuke's with it.

"Don't insult our pancakes when yours looks like they came out of a retirement home."

Naruto giggled, and you smiled to yourself as they bickered. Kakashi continued making the pancakes with each of the kids' chosen toppings, unfazed by the escalating argument that Naruto had become involved in after an insult to his own topping choice.

"Shut up, Naruto! You add an ungodly amount of chocolate to yours, so you have no room to talk!"

"You shut up! Chocolate is the best topping, believe it!"

Kakashi shook his head at their bickering, and you could see his eyes scrunching as he smiled behind his mask. You were glad that Sakura was enthralled with her argument, too distracted to see your cheeks turning red as you watched Kakashi's emotions through his eyes.

You pictured his face under the mask, smile small but still so full of joy. He really was beautiful.

You choked as the thought crossed your mind. Kakashi glanced up when you practically inhaled the bit of pancake you'd been chewing hit your chest to try and dislodge it from your windpipe.

Beautiful? You had never really been interested in those kinds of observations before. Sure, you could acknowledge things that were beautiful versus not, and you knew what features people generally found attractive, but this was an entirely new feeling.

Every day you added to the list of things that were new about your life. It was exhausting.

But it was also exciting. That was another new feeling. You constantly felt excited about this new life you'd been given.

"Don't choke," Kakashi griped after you'd finished coughing.

"Helpful," you grumbled, avoiding his curious gaze and looking instead at where the kids were still arguing. Sakura had Sasuke in a chokehold, grinning at him as she held him up by the throat. The boy looked like he was starting to go blue in the face; he was tapping Sakura's arm in an attempt to alleviate the pressure, but she just tightened her hold. Naruto had gone silent, argument forgotten as he grabbed Sakura's shoulder with a nervous smile.

"Uh, Sakura? I think he's had enough..."

Sakura looked up, and you finally got a clear look at the smile on her face. Rather than the playful, slightly guilty one that you'd expected, it was a familiar smirk that greeted you.

"Kakashi," you barked, but the man had already realized what was going on and taken action. He jumped at Sakura and freed Sasuke from her hold. You heard the boy coughing and taking in gasps of air before you lunged for Sakura, ignoring the part of your mind that was begging for this to be a dream, focusing instead on the problem right in front of you.

Save her, a part of you screamed. It was the part that she had helped you unlock. It was the one that had been growing since you escaped. It was one that you wanted to hold on to.

Stop her, another voice said, old and familiar like a long-forgotten friend. It was the Widow's voice, reaching out to you again after her long silence. Her phantom hands pressed against your back and pushed you towards Sakura—towards the threat—before she could reach Naruto. The boy had taken a defensive position, but he looked considerably more hesitant to engage with his friend than you felt. Before Sakura had a chance to lunge at him, you wrapped your arms around her waist and threw yourself back so that she landed on top of you.

"Sakura!" you shouted at her, wrapping your legs around her waist at the same time that Naruto and Kakashi grabbed each of her arms and pinned them to the ground. You could still hear Sasuke catching his breath a few feet away, and you tried not to focus on how pained his breathing sounded or how hard Sakura must have tried to kill him.

Not Sakura, you reminded yourself, Orochimaru.

"Sakura, you're stronger than he is," you grunted. Sakura growled, the sound almost animalistic, and Kakashi grabbed the back of her head before she could launch it back into your nose. She snarled again, baring her teeth at him and continuing her vicious fight against the three of you, "Sakura, please! If you can hear me, then fight!"

Her struggle continued, and you tightened your hold on her when her movements became more sporadic.

"Orochimaru," Kakashi said over Sakura, voice carrying across the room and leaving an echo in its wake. Sakura had gone silent in an instant, full attention on Kakashi, "interesting. So you can hear us and see us through her eyes?"

Sakura's eyes were blank, as if her body had been left vacant for a split second. Then she was blinking, and though her body had gone still in your arms, her lips split into a smirk.

"Sakura–" you croaked, tears burning in your eyes as the girl craned her neck as best she could to look at you. When she saw your broken expression, her smirk split into a grin and she let out a laugh.

"My Widow," Sakura whispered, studying your scar as if to confirm your identity, "I hope you enjoyed this phase of rebellion, but I've come to collect what you owe me."

"She doesn't owe you anything!"

"Quiet," Sakura hissed, whipping her head towards Naruto and silencing him with a single, scathing glare, "she owes me everything. She owes me her life. And that is what I've come to collect."

You could feel yourself beginning to shut down. These words were so familiar, and it had been far too long since you'd been reminded of your place. It was a shock to be thrown back into the mind of the Widow, but Orochimaru's were enough of a catalyst. Your head was spinning, and you fought to regain control over your senses despite feeling waves of nausea crashing into you.

"I want to kill you more than anything," Orochimaru said, and the words felt like daggers coming from Sakura's mouth.

This feeling of complete and utter helplessness was what you'd been battling against all this time. It was what you thought you'd overcome, but you were the same as before. You hadn't changed at all, and this was proof. One word from Orochimaru, and you were falling back into your bad habits like they were old friends welcoming you home.

It was as comforting as it was painful.

"It's an ironic kind of punishment for both of us that you're what I need to go back."

"You're more delusional than I expected."

Sakura turned towards Kakashi this time, blank expression focused on him. She studied him carefully, looking between his eyes for any hint of emotion other than forced indifference. He didn't blink.

"Hatake," she finally said with another grin.

"It's good to finally meet you, snake," Kakashi said patiently, still holding Sakura's arm despite her lack of struggle, "I hope you know that this is technically trespassing on SHIELD property."

"You stole something from me," Sakura shot back, "and I've come to collect it."

"You haven't come to collect anything," Kakashi shook his head, leaning closer to Sakura and looking into her eyes. Into the eyes that Orochimaru was watching him through, "you're nothing more than a coward. Not even brave enough to confront me face-to-face."

"You?" Sakura cackled. It sounded wrong coming from her, "I have no interest in you, or any confrontation. What I want is very simple. And I'm willing to offer a trade."

"We don't want anything from you–"

"Freedom," Sakura interrupted Naruto sharply, glaring at him intensely. Naruto flinched at the unfamiliar expression on Sakura's face and turned away, "for Sakura. That is what I'm offering. All I'm asking in return is for my Widow back."

That's it?

It seemed like an easy trade-off. Sakura's freedom? You were willing to give anything for that. Giving yourself up was always an option you'd considered, and now you had the opportunity to save her. She could finally live without fear, and without Orochimaru's control looming over her like puppet strings.

Freedom was the only thing you wanted for her. It was never something you expected for yourself, even if you'd momentarily deluded yourself into thinking it was a possibility.

Trying to be human had proven too difficult for you. Orochimaru was calling you, and you would answer with a promise of loyalty. For Sakura, you would give yourself back to him in a heartbeat.

"No."

You froze, limbs seizing at Kakashi's declaration. You stared wide-eyed at the ground, hearing only your quiet breaths as they began to quicken.

Then, like a switch flipping within you, anger crashed into you in waves.

"It'll only be a matter of time until we figure out how you're controlling her," Kakashi was saying, though you could barely hear him through the ringing in your ears and the heaviness of your breathing, "and then you'll have no power over us anymore."

A hypocrite. That's all Kakashi was. For all his talk about not wanting to be Orochimaru and about giving you back control of your own life, he was standing in front of you—not even looking at you—and deciding with no hesitation that you couldn't save Sakura.

No, that new, happier voice said. She could barely be heard over the Widow's ferocious anger, but she clawed her way to the surface and fought desperately to speak, don't do this. That's Orochimaru's voice in your head. That is exactly what he wants you to believe.

The Widow fought against this new voice, but she dug her fingers into your mind and refused to let go.

If you tell yourself that Kakashi is the enemy, you'll alienate yourself from the only people who have ever seen you as an individual. That's exactly what Orochimaru wants. Kakashi is just trying to–

"Wha...what's going on?"

Sakura's voice had changed again. It sounded terrified, and you realized that you were still immobilizing her in a vice-like grip. Despite your previous anger, you glanced at Kakashi almost involuntarily for confirmation that Orochimaru had let go of his hold on her.

"M-my head," she whispered, pressing her palms against her forehead and letting out a panicked, broken sob, "it hurts. Ah–Kakashi-sensei, it...it feels like I'm dying."

"Sakura," Kakashi yelled when the girl began to fall to the side, slumping into Kakashi arms and letting out sporadic, wheezing exhales, "Sakura, does anything else hurt?"

"I'm dying," Sakura choked, curling into herself on Kakashi lap and holding the back of her head against her chest, "it hurts so bad. I think...am I going to die?"

"No, Sakura, you're–"

"I don't wanna die. I can't...I just came back. I just came home. Please, just don't let me die."

"Orochimaru is still controlling her," you muttered, kneeling next to Sakura and placing a hand against her forehead. Her temperature was normal, "he's making her feel like this. He wants us to see it so we'll break."

And it was working.

Kakashi's indifferent mask had broken into something pained and terrified. Naruto was rambling to Sakura, telling her that everything was going to be okay. Sasuke was standing behind Kakashi, throat bruised with her handprint and fists clenched tight at his sides. He stared at Sakura with a pain in his eyes that you had never seen before.

You could stop this. It was such an easy problem to solve that it was almost laughable.

"Stop," you muttered, pulling Sakura's shoulder so that she was facing you. Your throat tightened at the sight of her face, streaked with tears and twisted in pain, "stop this. You can have me, so stop hurting her."

It took a moment, but you saw the shift that took place on Sakura's face. The pain fell away, and then that emptiness was back. You almost preferred the pain to this—she looked like a corpse.

"Think this through," Kakashi said next to you, voice shaky as he stared down at Sakura's limp body, "we can figure something else out."

"There is no other option, Kakashi," you muttered, anger forgotten. You were too tired for anger. You had already made up your mind. "You have your family. They can all be safe again."

Kakashi stared at you, eyebrows pinched together and still just as pained as they were before. You wanted to run a hand over his forehead and smooth out the frustrated wrinkles in his skin. You wanted to tell him that this was okay with you. That this was what you wanted. To protect Sakura. To protect him and Naruto and Sasuke. To give them back their lives.

They had a chance to be a safe. You weren't going to let them give that up.

Sakura began to move slowly. Her movements were robotic enough that Kakashi and Naruto allowed her to stand, though they stayed close to her side and followed her to the kitchen. She picked up a spare napkin from breakfast and swiped away your empty plate with little regard to it shattering on the floor.

"Pen."

It wasn't Orochimaru's voice, but it wasn't Sakura's voice either. It was like an empty void had taken hold of her, expending only the energy necessary to complete its task.

Sasuke placed a blunt marker into her waiting hand, though she didn't seem bothered by the divergence from her instructions. Instead, she scribbled something on the napkin, then handed it to you with empty eyes. She was looking right through you, recognizing you only as the recipient of the note that she'd written. On it was an address.

"This is your house," you muttered, glancing at Kakashi with wide eyes.

"Meet there," Sakura commanded monotonously. Then, with no warning, she crumpled to the ground.

For as long as you had known her, Sakura had been fascinated by mythology.

She would tell you stories when the darkness of a cell became suffocating for both of you. She would whisper the words with so much excitement, wanting to share the stories that you'd never had the opportunity to hear. She'd tell you about Helen and Artemis and the magnificent creatures that lurked in forests and within caves. She transported you into a world wholly different from your own, where you could imagine yourself sailing the Aegean Sea in the open air, part of an equal collective of heroes whose responsibilities matched your own. Where you could swim with mermaids and face Charybdis' crashing waves and the monstrous form of Scylla. Where pain was simply a part of adventure rather than a means of control.

When you were free, she gave you the book of Greek myths that Kakashi had read to her as a child. She said that you always seemed interested in what you had to say, and you kept it by your bedside in Kakashi's room and reread the stories that Sakura had once told you. You told her every time she asked what you thought that you preferred the way she told them.

You remembered reading about the HYDRA. That was one story that Sakura never told when you were both in the Red Room. You had stared at the detailed painting of its long, snaking heads and the sharp points of its teeth and wondered if this was how Orochimaru saw himself. As one of those terrifying creatures, looming over the world like a god and multiplying each time he raised a girl to become a killer.

The Hydra had poisonous blood so virulent that even its scent was deadly. The Hydra possessed many heads and had regenerative power: for every head chopped off, the Hydra would regrow two in its place.

Orochimaru had left Kakashi's door hanging open in invitation. Kakashi's hands were wrapped tight around the steering wheel, though you were doing your best not to look at him. You almost couldn't stand the tension in the car or the silence that had persisted since Sakura passed out. She was sitting in between Naruto and Sasuke in the back seat, slumped on Sasuke's shoulder and supported by Naruto's arms around her waist, holding her steady. She hadn't stirred since she collapsed.

Kabuto was waiting for you in the doorway. You felt a chill race down your spine at the sight of him, and you could already feel yourself beginning to shut down. You could practically feel the intensity of his gaze, and you wondered if the slight ache in your cheek was a phantom pain that originated from your many memories of his fists hitting you again and again, insisting that pain was the only way to make you stronger.

You had become so weak. You hadn't realized it before, but you'd been too relaxed while you were with Kakashi and the others. You'd let your guard down for too long, and now you were paying for it.

Kakashi didn't move when you opened the car door. You glanced back at Naruto and Sasuke with a silent but firm order: do not come out of the car.

Kabuto didn't move when you began approaching him. His face remained expressionless, though you could see the tension in his body. His hands were balled into fists, and when you finally stopped a few feet away from him, his eyes narrowed just slightly.

Kakashi opened his door at the same time that Kabuto took a single step forward and slapped you across the cheek. The strength of it left your face stinging, and you felt your lip beginning to bleed where a ring had caught on the skin. It was far too familiar to be surprising.

"You have no idea how much you've destroyed," Kabuto said, and you only began to understand just how angry he was when you heard his voice. It was low and dangerous; the man was usually more composed than anyone you'd ever met. This level of anger from him was new territory. "If we didn't need you, I'd kill you where you stand."

You kept your lips sealed shut, ignoring Kakashi standing at your back. You saw Kabuto's eyes shift to meet his and waited with shallow breaths for one of them to move. You certainly wouldn't be the first.

"I see you've found another master," Kabuto sneered, glaring at you once again when he'd finished studying the indifferent expression on Kakashi's face. Kabuto grabbed your shirt and jerked you forward, his movements sudden and sporadic. You reached back and caught Kakashi's arm just as he began to move it. This wasn't the time to hinder Kabuto or Orochimaru from doing what they wanted. Not with Sakura's life on the line.

Kakashi's arm was tense in your grip. You tightened your fingers around his wrist just slightly, hoping that your silent reassurance would be conveyed in the gesture.

You knew it would only do so much. Time and time again, Sakura was being ripped away from him. He had to be sick of seeing her in pain.

And one cause of that pain was standing right in front of him.

Kabuto pulled you close enough that his lips were next to your ear. You felt warm breath on your skin and closed your eyes, fighting not to shrink away.

"You're nothing," he hissed. "Don't forget that just because you're needed."

You knew what you were. You had always known—you had just forgotten. For the briefest moment, you'd deluded yourself into thinking that you could mean something. That you could become someone.

A pipe dream. That was all it would ever be.

The creature was so poisonous that it killed men with its breath, and if anyone passed by when it was sleeping, they breathed its tracks and died in the greatest torment. Even the smallest contact with the Hydra’s blood could be fatal.

Orochimaru was waiting for you on Kakashi's couch. He didn't seem bothered by Kakashi's presence at your side; he must've been confident in the threat that he was holding over you both. He knew after Kakashi's many attempts to get Sakura back that he wouldn't risk her. Not for you.

Kabuto had said it himself. You were nothing.

When you saw Orochimaru for the first time after so long, it felt like you'd never left his side. You mind went blank, and you froze where you stood. You barely noticed Kakashi's pack scattered around the room, all motionless but still visibly breathing.

You were at attention, though you made sure that you weren't looking directly at Orochimaru. He didn't tolerate eye contact with his Widows. He claimed that it made them seem too human—too emotional. He wanted complete detachment from any kind of personal connection with you. To the Widows, Orochimaru wanted to be a god—untouchable and all-powerful.

You couldn't move. Your body wasn't responding to any of your brain's commands. You just stood, waiting for your fate like a deer waiting patiently for headlights to meet it. Orochimaru stood from the couch in silence, calm and collected and appearing as if he was in complete control of his emotions.

You tried to embody that same control, but found that panic mounted within you each time he took a step in your direction. By the time he had stopped in front of you, you'd stopped breathing altogether in an effort to hide your fear. To hide how terrified you were at the idea of going back to him. Any residual longing you'd felt for the familiarity of the Red Room disappeared as you stared at the wall next to him, eyes and lungs burning. With Orochimaru so close for the first time in months, you wondered how you had ever wanted to be near someone who's entire being screamed danger.

Orochimaru didn't move for a long moment. When he did, you felt the pressure of his cold fingers gripping your chin. He moved your face until you were forced to meet his gaze.

Terror seized your body when you finally looked into Orochimaru's cold, snake-like eyes. He was looking at you like he could see into the very depths of your soul, and you finally exhaled in a choked, broken whimper. There was the slightest upward twitch of Orochimaru's lips.

"You've made things very difficult for me," he said, the words slithering from his mouth like a snake escaping a cage. You felt them coiling around your throat with the familiar intent to kill. Despite how calm he may have looked, you had been studying him for signs of anger your whole life. His fury was practically dripping from the corners of his mouth as his lips shifted up into a smirk, "but even so, I've decided that you still have a place as a Widow."

Orochimaru's fingers had tightened on your chin, and his smile had widened into something crazed.

"You want that, don't you?"

Speaking seemed like an impossible task, but you forced your lips to part and felt the expected answer forming in your throat.

"Yes," you croaked, though it was hardly convincing. Orochimaru laughed and turned you around to face Kakashi and Kabuto where they stood in the doorway. Orochimaru's fingers fell to the back of your neck, and you recognized the warning in his tight grip.

"Then why don't you tell that to Hatake before he does something he'll regret."

You took a moment to clear the fog from your mind and look at Kakashi. The indifferent mask had fallen from his face, and Orochimaru seemed to see how desperate he was to stop the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Kabuto was keeping him far enough from you that he wouldn't interfere, but his shoulders were rising and falling too quickly to be from anything but panic. He looked ready to lunge towards you the second he found an opening.

His eyes met yours immediately when you turned around, searching for anything other than the desperate terror and resigned acceptance that he saw.

You wished you felt brave enough to speak. To reassure him and stop him from panicking when he didn't need to.

Don't move. Don't let him hurt her. It's okay. This was always going to happen.

"Tell him," Orochimaru ordered, "where it is that you belong."

His hand on the back of your neck felt like a shock to your system, waking you to the reality of what was happening. You were back in Orochimaru's cruel hands, waiting with bated breath for his next move. But through your hazy panic, one thought fought through and left your lips before you could even consider stopping it.

"Not until you fix her."

Kabuto froze at your words. He knew that as well as you did that ignoring Orochimaru's orders almost always ended in death.

"You offered a trade," you croaked. You voice sounded weak, and you almost felt ashamed that Kakashi was seeing you at such a low point, "so hold up your end of the bargain."

"Look at you," Orochimaru said with another laugh, condescension dripping from the words, "I almost want to be proud, but you and I both know that you weren't raised to speak out against me."

You wished you had never left. You wished you had just given Sakura to Kakashi the day that he came for her and gone back inside. You wished that he had left you there.

"You forgot your place, and now you've made it my job to remind you," Orochimaru hissed in your ear. "Now tell him where you belong."

"No," you whispered, the word so faint that you weren't even sure if you'd said it. But the tightening of Orochimaru's fingers around your neck was evidence enough that he'd heard you. Kakashi took a step forward, but froze when Kabuto raised a gun and pointed it at his chest. His wide eyes were still studying you, watching every minute reaction to Orochimaru's torment.

The man that he'd been itching to get his hands on was right here in front of him. He was close enough that he could take one leap forward and close his hands around the man's throat. He could fix this. He could stop you from giving yourself back to him.

"Kakashi-sensei!"

Naruto's voice was high and panicked on the opposite side of the door. He was keeping his distance, and it was clear that he didn't see you or Orochimaru standing in the center of the room, but Orochimaru still held tight to your neck to keep you from moving towards the boy. You closed your eyes and fought against the urge to follow Naruto's distressed cry.

Kakashi's reaction was instantaneous. He had turned around in a heartbeat, ignoring Kabuto's weapon and taking a step out of the house to face Naruto.

"Sakura's seizing!"

Kakashi's body went taut at the same time that all of the fight drained from your body. This was it. This was Orochimaru's trump card; the one thing that he could hold over your head that would make you do anything he asked.

He could kill Sakura. He didn't even have to be in the same room as her to make her heart stop.

"That's enough," you croaked, attempting to face Orochimaru but stopping when he thumb pressed deep into the junction of your neck, "I understand. I belong in the Red Room. I-I belong to you."

You heaved against the panic that still swirled in your stomach. Nausea was crashing in waves inside of you, and you thought you would've collapsed had it not been for Orochimaru holding you up by your throat.

"She stopped!" Sasuke shouted, voice farther from the house than Naruto's. Kakashi visibly relaxed and ordered Naruto to go back to the car and watch over Sakura. Naruto didn't protest.

Kabuto looked satisfied by your compliance, but Orochimaru was still tight. There was a long pause after your words, and you wondered if it was too late to give him the answer he wanted. Maybe you'd already dug your grave deep enough to lay in.

I belong to you.

You tried to change. You tried to escape. You tried to become human.

It just wasn't what fate had in store for you.

"Good."

Orochimaru's grip slackened, and he let you fall past his fingers until your knees hit the floor with a hard thump. You stared down at the wood with wide eyes, wondering how everything had changed so fast. Just this morning you'd discovered that today was your birthday, and Kakashi was making you pancakes with the kids. And not even two hours had passed.

Kakashi knelt in front of you with little concern about Kabuto or Orochimaru. You couldn't bare to look at him—not after he'd seen what Orochimaru could do to you. At how quickly you'd let him erase months of progress.

You felt hesitant, careful fingers brushing against your cheeks, and when you didn't react to the touch, Kakashi pressed his hands on either side of your face and lifted it so that you were forced to meet his eyes. It was a much gentler way of meeting your eyes, and you felt a deep sense of longing for it.

"I'm sorry," you croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, brushing his thumb under your eye to keep a tear from falling. He was close enough that you knew Kabuto and Orochimaru wouldn't be able to see the movement, but neither were paying attention to the scene. Kabuto was waiting impatiently for Orochimaru to become bored with the emotional display, but Orochimaru was silently standing a few steps from you, barely paying attention to what the scene.

"Don't do this," Kakashi whispered. You wondered if you could trap the sound of his voice in your mind and hold on to it while you rotted away in the depths of the Red Room, "we can protect her."

"I know we can," you said back with a slight smile. You pressed a hand against his and closed your eyes, wondering why you hadn't accepted this kindness from him earlier. Maybe you would've gotten more of it before it was ripped away. Enough that it would take longer to forget the feeling of how warm his hand felt against your skin. But you knew that the feeling would slip away before you were ready to let it go, "just make sure she doesn't blame herself for this."

"I can protect you both," he pleaded. Your breath hitched, though it sounded more like a broken sob. Kakashi's face fell even further.

No one had ever protected you. No one had ever been given the chance. And no matter how much you wished it, Kakashi wouldn't be able to either.

"Take care of them."

Some ancient writers tried to come up with a rational explanation for the myth of the Hydra. Heraclitus, for example, suggested that the Hydra really had only one head, but was accompanied by its numerous brood—that is, the Hydra was really many snakes rather than a single many-headed snake.

"One of your doctors is a Widow," Orochimaru told Kakashi from the doorway, "her name is Shizune. She's the reason that Sakura's examinations weren't conclusive. You'll be able to get answers from her after six months have passed. In those six months, I won't have any use for Sakura, so unless you come looking for me or my Widows, she won't be in danger."

"Absolutely not. That's not what we agreed–"

"You have no bargaining power," Orochimaru snapped, looking down on Kakashi like the man was an ant that he wanted to crush. You shrunk away from him and back towards Orochimaru to avoid any further retaliation against either of you. Kakashi's hands fell from your face as you leaned away, and you tried not to feel like you were ripping yourself away from the only chance you'd ever had at happiness.

"Forget the Red Room and any connection you and Sakura have to it, and you won't ever have to see it again."

You were hesitant to look at Kakashi again, but the fury on his face when you did left you paralyzed.

Was that anger for Sakura?

Was it for you?

"Understand one thing," Kakashi said lowly, eyes alight with an unfamiliar rage, "I'll never forget this. And one way or another, I'll see you again."

"If that days comes," Orochimaru said with a dark smile, lips split like an open wound, "it'll be your last moments alive."

A sharp sting in your neck finally made you look away from Kakashi. His eyes widened when your body went slack and you fell to the side. He reached forward and caught your head before it could hit the floor, but his hand quickly disappeared when you were lifted into less gentle arms. You recognized the grip as Kabuto's, and despite your best efforts to stay conscious enough to be aware of your surroundings, darkness quickly swallowed your vision.

The Hydra's one immortal head was cut off with a golden sword given to Heracles by Athena. Heracles placed the head—still alive and writhing—under a great rock on the sacred way between Lerna and Elaius, and dipped his arrows in the Hydra's poisonous blood.

The last thing you saw was Kakashi, out of focus and still kneeling on the ground with his hands resting on the floor in front of him. Darkness prevailed, and freedom slipped through your fingers.

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Author's note | i'm sorry this chapter took me so long. i rewrote the end after i had it basically finished because i didn't love how it turned out, but i think i'm happy with how it ended up. it also ended up being very long oops. please let me know what you think!

also if you're interested please check out the spotify playlist linked with the summary. i'm lowkey obsessed with it.

title is from "Timefighter" by Lucy Dacus

#kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake imagine #naruto #trr #emwrites

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